Lavender Lady

Belgrave House www.belgravehouse.com Copyright ©1983 by Carola Dunn NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

LAVENDER LADY Carola Dunn

Chapter 1 "Hester! Hester! Come quick! There's been a dreadful accident!" Accustomed to her youngest brother's wild exaggerations, Miss Godric dusted the flour off her hands on her blue gingham apron in a leisurely way. The small boy burst into the kitchen. His white face and the panic in his voice galvanised her to action. "It was Skip,” cried Robbie. “He got out somehow and went for Mr. Borden's terrier just as a curricle came round the corner. The driver was thrown right into the road, and he's unconscious and there's blood everywhere. Do you think he's dead, Hester?" "Surely not,” soothed his sister in an anxious voice as she hurried after him. “The road is so muddy after all this rain that he must had quite a soft landing. Where are Jamie and Geoff?" "Jamie went for the doctor already, and Geoff is calming the horses. There wasn't a groom." "Well, at least I have a family with common sense,” declared Hester. Picking up her skirts, she ran down the front steps and out of the white wicket gate into the street. For once she did not stop to admire Geoffrey's magnificent display of snapdragons, marigolds, cosmos, and delphiniums. The warm summer air was full of the scent of lavender as she knelt in the mud beside the injured stranger. Geoffrey already had the pair of chestnuts under control, so Hester was able to turn all her attention to the man before her. He was lying quite still, and his left leg was at an odd angle, which convinced her that it was broken. His face was very pale, and there was indeed, as Rob had reported, a good deal of blood liberally splashed on his once-white neckcloth and soaking into the dirt around his head. With tentative fingers, she brushed back his fair hair and found the wound—a long gash that was still bleeding but did not seem very deep. She looked at her muddy petticoat, at her grubby brothers, and with a sigh sent Robbie into the house. "Find Alice,” she instructed, “and tell her to bring some clean linen to bind this cut. Quickly, Rob; it is still bleeding. Geoff, you had best take the curricle round into the yard and unharness the horses. Then come back; I'll need your help." A few minutes later, her eldest brother appeared from the direction of the town centre, running and panting in a way he would normally have stigmatised as highly undignified. "Jamie, give me your cravat,” Hester greeted him. “Is Dr. Price coming?" "Yes,” gasped the youth, wrestling with his neckcloth. “I met him just down the road but going in the other direction. He had to turn the gig, so I came back at once without waiting for him. Is he badly hurt?” He handed his sister the crumpled but clean cloth, and she pressed it firmly to the cut on the stranger's forehead. "As far as I can see, he is not likely to die,” reassured Hester. “However, I am sure his leg is broken, and I have no idea what to do about it. I hope Dr. Price will hurry." "Here he comes already,” cried Robbie, reappearing in the doorway. “Dr. Price, Dr. Price, can I hold Bo'sun?" "Indeed to goodness, Mr. Midshipman,” answered the stout, white-haired Welshman with a twinkle in his eye, clambering down from his seat with Jamie's assistance. He handed over the reins of the placid nag, who was standing stock-still. “Do not let the old rascal stray, my boy."

'Aye, aye, sir!” responded Robbie joyfully. "So! What have we here?” queried Dr. Price in his lilting voice, casting a comprehensive glance over his sprawling patient. “Broken leg; looks nasty. What of his head, Miss Godric?" Hester gingerly removed the cloth from the wound. It seemed to have stopped bleeding. Breathing heavily, the old physician bent down to have a closer look. “That'll not make him slip his anchor. Better bind it while I look at that leg." "Robbie, where is Alice? Did I not send you for her?" "Oh, she is having hysterics,” said the boy scornfully. And Susan just started praying, so I told Ivy. She made Susan go with her to get some cloths, so I expect she'll be out in a minute." "As if Ivy did not have enough work!” objected James. “I'll give Alice a piece of my mind, see if I don't." "Oh, Jamie, it is very trying, but you know your sister's excessive sensibilities,” calmed Hester. “We have enough trouble here without you picking a quarrel with her. See, here is Susan." A girl of about twelve came through the gate, a basket over her arm. "Here is the linen, Hester,” she announced. “May I help you succour the sick? The Lord says—" "Bother the Lord,” exclaimed Geoffrey, appearing round the corner of the house. “Don't be so sanctimonious, you little brat." "I shall pray for you, dear brother,” she responded with hauteur. “Hester, may I help?" "Indeed, dearest, it would be of the greatest assistance if you would go to Alice and try to stop her working herself into a frenzy. Dr. Price, should I not wash his head before I bind it?" The doctor was now on his knees in the mud, feeling the stranger's leg. "Put on a temporary bandach, Miss Hester,” he instructed. “You can chanche it when we have the unfortunate chentleman indoors, look you. James, Cheoffrey, I shall need some wood for splints and some sort of stretcher to carry him.” He paused as a thought struck him. “I suppose you can find a bed for him, can you not? He should not be moved so far as the Bull." "Of course we can. He shall have Jamie's room and Jamie will sleep with Geoff and Robbie. After all, it is in some degree our fault that he is hurt.” Hester explained about the dog fight. Her brothers returned with armfuls of planks and staves, and a hurdle, which they piled beside the doctor. "Skipper took off across the fields with Patches as soon as the damage was done,” reported Geoffrey. “He'd dug under the fence again." Dr. Price put a makeshift splint on the broken leg, and James and Geoffrey lifted the injured man carefully onto the hurdle. He moaned as the doctor manipulated his leg, but showed no other sign of returning consciousness. "A mild concussion,” diagnosed the physician. “Let us get him into bed as soon as possible, and I shall set the fracture properly. There is more than one break, Miss Hester. I fear you may have him on your hands for some time.''

"No matter,” Hester assured him. Half an hour later, the stranger was tucked up, clean and well bandaged, in Jamie's bed. A faint colour had returned to his cheeks. "I expect he will come round soon,” Dr. Price told Hester. “Make him drink this if there is much pain. If he is not conscious in a couple of hours, you may send for me. He must not move. I fear he may find himself with a limp when all's healed." Hester thanked him for his services, and he departed. After a brief consultation with James, she left him to manage Alice and the children, handed over the dinner preparations to the servant, Ivy, and sat down in the rocking chair by her patient's bedside. She felt uncharacteristically fatigued. Her day had been busy, but no busier than usual. It must have been the. emotional disturbance, she decided. The golden light of an August evening came through the open window, with the song of a blackbird. She studied the face on the pillow beside her. A strong face, she thought, even in relaxation. The bandage on his brow gave him a slightly rakish look. He was a big man—tall and broad-shouldered, though slim— and her brothers had had a difficult time carrying him up the narrow staircase. Even unconscious, he seemed to fill the small room, crowded as it was with Jamie's books and papers. She wondered who he was. They had found an empty card case in his pocket, and a few sovereigns, but no hint of his identity either there or in the one bag with which he had been travelling. His clothes, now exchanged for a voluminous nightshirt grudgingly given up by Grandpa Stevens, were of excellent quality, and his coat of blue superfine had fit so tightly that it had been a struggle to divest him of it. One of his glossy but mud-spattered boots had had to be cut off the injured leg and was ruined. Hester hoped he would not be too annoyed. Those boots must have cost him a pretty penny. Her gaze returned to his face. The sun lit up his thick, wavy blond hair. Thinking of her own straight, mousy crop, she sighed. It seemed unfair that a man should have hair like that. It was hard to tell with the bandage in the way, but she rather suspected that the stranger might be excessively good-looking. She would have to keep an eye on the susceptible Alice. Of course, the man might be equally susceptible, and Alice's beauty had already broken more hearts than one. Pondering the problems involved in finding a suitable husband for her sister, Hester did not at once notice when the stranger opened his eyes. He contemplated her in silence for a few moments, seeing a young woman in her early twenties with a faraway look in her grey eyes. The evening sun brought out golden highlights in the soft coils of light brown hair that crowned her head and lent dignity to her thin oval face. Who was she? He frowned in puzzlement, and the pain caused by the movement made him groan involuntarily. The grey eyes met his blue ones, and now they conveyed a smiling mixture of relief, worry, and, he thought, apology. "You are awake!” she said in a low, gentle voice. “How do you feel?" "I hardly know,” he replied. “My head hurts a little. Am I dreaming?" Hester laughed. "I fear not, sir. You had an accident and have been unconscious for an hour or more. Unfortunately, your head is the least of our worries. You have broken your leg, and that badly, according to the doctor."

"The devil!” he exclaimed. “Yes, I feel it now. I remember—I was driving into Henley when the horses took fright at something. A dog fight, was it? And you are...?" "My name is Hester Godric. I'm afraid it was my brothers’ dog that caused the upset. I cannot blame them, for he dug under the fence, but I must offer you the most sincere apologies." Seeing the anxiety on her face, he managed a smile. "Doubtless the dog was at fault. However, my team are over high-strung, and I had been thinking of disposing of them. Were they injured, by the way?" "I think not. Geoffrey would surely have mentioned it.” She noted his grimace as he tried to shift his position, suppressing a groan. “Are you very uncomfortable, sir? The doctor left a draught lest you should waken in great pain." "Truth to tell, my leg begins to feel as if it were on fire, Miss Godric. I shall be glad to try your doctor's prescription." Hester stood up and moved to the desk, where she had left the bottle of medicine and a glass. He saw that she was of medium height, perhaps a little too slender, and that she moved with a quiet grace which made her seem taller. Her dress was a simple round gown of dove grey, elegantly cut but showing signs of wear. Wondering about her condition, he realised he had not yet introduced himself. On a sudden whim, he decided he would not mention his title. It might prove amusing to see how these people, unaware of his identity, would react to him. "Miss Godric,” he said, as Hester approached the bed carrying a glass with an inch or so of vile-looking green liquid, “I find I have been remiss in not giving you my name. I am David Fairfax." She smiled at him in a motherly way. "Well, Mr. Fairfax, I trust you are not going to make as much fuss over swallowing this potion as my brothers and sisters generally do when I must physic them. Come, let me help you sit up a little." With the aid of her surprisingly strong arm, David George Homer Fairfax, Earl of Alton, raised himself to drink his medicine. "Ugh!” he exclaimed, sinking back on his pillows. “Had you not warned me, I'd have behaved just like your siblings. Have you many?" "Five,'’ replied Hester. Hoping to distract him from his pain, she elaborated. “There's Alice; she's eighteen and quite the most beautiful girl you ever saw. Then Jamie, who is seventeen. He's very bookish, and we hope he will go up to Oxford next year. This is his room. Geoffrey is fifteen and an excellent gardener. He grows all our vegetables and fruit, which helps a great deal, as you may imagine. Then there's Susan—only she wishes her name were Theresa. She is just twelve and wants to be a nun at the moment. Last winter she wanted to be an actress, so I am not overly concerned, but she does annoy the others with her sermons. Robbie is my baby. He's eight and is quite determined to be a sailor. I do not think he will change, as he has been of the same mind since he first went on the river in a rowboat at the age of four." "And your parents?” enquired Mr. Fairfax sleepily. "We have only Grandfather Stevens. He is an old dear, and you are wearing his nightshirt. Now go to sleep. You may ring this bell if you need anything, and I shall come up later to see how you do. Sweet dreams, Mr. Fairfax."

As the drug he had swallowed took effect, Lord Alton watched her draw the curtains across the window. A last gleam of sun lit her hair like a halo. An angel of mercy, he muttered thickly to himself. Before she reached the door, his heavy eyelids dropped and he slept. Hester descended the stairs and entered the drawing room, where she found the whole family assembled. Even Grandfather Stevens—an independent old man who had a separate cottage at the bottom of the garden—had condescended to join them to hear the news about the stranger who was wearing his nightshirt. They were a handsome lot, thought Hester lovingly. The children were all dark-haired and dark-eyed, Alice with a voluptuousness that belied her age, Jamie tall and thin, Geoffrey strong and sturdy, the little ones healthy and happy. Old Mr. Stevens was a veritable patriarch, with snow white hair and a flowing beard to match. His eyes twinkled beneath bushy eyebrows. "Well, granddaughter, and how be your unexpected guest?” he asked. That was the first of a flood of questions that came so fast she was quite unable to answer them all. "Hush, my dears,” she cried, laughing. “Here is Ivy to say dinner has been spoiling this half hour and more. I will tell you all I know while we eat." She knew little enough, in fact, and was forced to leave their curiosity unsatisfied. "I daresay Mr. Fairfax will feel more the thing tomorrow,” pointed out Jamie, “and he is bound to reveal more of himself. Stop bothering Hester now, Susan, or you'll not have time for some apple pie." "Ivy made it; it won't be as good as Hester's,” pouted Susan. "Thank you for the compliment, love, but I hope you will not say such a thing in Ivy's hearing,” reproved Hester gently. “She is not hired as a cook, and it is very good of her to help out." "I'll not deny that Mistress Ivy roasts a fine leg o’ mutton after me own heart,” said Mr. Stevens, helping himself to a third slice. “None of they fancy French sauces as Hester dresses up good plain English food with." "Now, Grandpapa, you must confess that you adore Hester's tarragon chicken.” Alice had quite recovered her spirits now that the emergency was over. She looked at Mr. Stevens teasingly. "Don't you Grandpa me, Miss Impidence,” he growled. “I bain't no grandpa o’ yourn. Nor want to be.” He beamed at her. Well into his seventies, he still had an eye for a pretty girl, and, dearly though he loved Hester, he had to admit that Alice outshone her in looks. "You said you'd be our grandpa, too!” accused Robbie. “It's not fair if only Hester has a grandpa." "He's only teasing,” explained Susan scornfully. “Aren't you, Grandfather? ‘Sides, you know Hester's mama died when she was born, Rob, so she never had a proper mama and that's not fair either." "Hush, children. I shared your mama, and you share my Grandpapa, so all is perfectly fair.” Hester quickly changed the subject. “Jamie, in the morning you had best remove your books from your bedroom. You may use my desk for your studying as long as Mr. Fairfax is with us." "Thank you. I'll not disturb your accounts.” He hesitated. “I suppose you could not tell from his conversation whether Mr. Fairfax is a university man? I do not wish to. sound conceited, but I rather think I know as much Greek as the vicar, and I should welcome assistance from someone who has

studied somewhat more recently." Since the Reverend Smythe had not seen the inside of a college in fifty years, not opened a Greek volume in near as long until he offered to coach Jamie, Hester considered this a reasonable request. "You must ask him,” she proposed. “Be tactful, though. You will not wish him to feel mortified should he be unable to help. Even if he was at Oxford or Cambridge, I daresay it is nine or ten years since. I am sure he must be thirty. Geoff, are you able to manage the horses, or shall you see if they will put them up at one of the inns?" "Jarvis would take ‘em at the Catherine Wheel, but we have room enough for them,” replied Geoffrey, “and I can take care of them. I'll have to buy fodder, though, unless Jarvis will give me a bale or two. Of course, I shall get the manure for the garden, so—" "Geoffrey! Must you discuss such things at the dinner table, you horrid creature?” objected Alice in disgust. “Really, you grow more like a farmer every day, I do declare." "And why not?” queried her brother indignantly. “I should like nothing better than to be a farmer. And I notice you do not despise the fruits of my labours, all grown in good aged cow manure." Alice dropped the peach she had been about to bite into. "Hester!” she wailed. “Stop him, or I shall never be able to touch another morsel!" "And a good thing, too,” said Geoff maliciously. “You are growing positively fat, Allie." "You are both at fault,” reproved Hester. “Geoff, it is not at all the thing to speak of such matters at table. Indeed, you almost put me off my food. There is no harm in being a farmer, but there is no reason you should not be a gentleman, too. And Alice, you are by far too old to indulge in squabbles like this. If your aunt invites you to London, she will think I have made a sad failure of teaching you to behave as a lady ought." "Oh, Hester, I am very sorry. It is not your teaching that is at fault. I daresay my aunt will not invite me anyway. I do not think she remembers our existence." "We do very well without her,” growled Jamie. “She did not offer to help when Papa died, not even when we had to sell Hilltop Manor." "Lady Bardry is not particularly well-to-do, and I don't expect any help in that direction, James. However, if I pay all expenses, I can see no reason why she should not introduce Alice to the Fashionable World and give her a proper season. She moves in the highest circles, as Papa did, you know. I was not going to tell you, lest nothing should come of it, but I have written to her suggesting just such an arrangement." "The expense must come out of the estate, Hester,” protested Jamie hotly. “It is outside of enough that your fortune provides the greater part of our living. I cannot let you pay for Alice's come-out." Grandfather Stevens took an unexpected hand in the discussion. “When I settled twenty thousand pounds on Hester at her birth,” he declared pedantically, “I niver thought her papa would get through my Muriel's dowry so fast, nor that Hester'd be taking on the bringing up o’ you lot. But being as how she's done it, I taught her how to reckon, and she've got it all figured out jist fine, and all ye've to do is what she says." So fiercely did the old man pronounce this last that all James could do was stammer meekly, “Yes, sir, of

course we will." Once again, Hester thought it prudent to change the subject, though she could see that all the children were bursting with questions. "Grandfather,” she said pacifically, “I believe Alice finished your new shirt today. I shall iron it in the morning, and you'll have it by noon." "May I press it, please?” begged Susan. “I have been practising on Robbie's shirts, and indeed I think I can do it well enough even for Grandpapa." "To be sure, you may. It will be a great help to me if you can do a good job. No one could ask for a more helpful family,” said Hester, looking round the table with a contented sigh. “Susan and Rob, if you please, clear the dishes for Ivy. I must go up and see how Mr. Fairfax does. I will join you all later." "I'd like a word wi’ ye, child, afore ye goes up,” requested Mr. Stevens. "Come into the study, Grandpapa.” Hester led the way into the tiny back room where she kept her papers. “I must thank you for saving me from an argument with Jamie. The dear boy feels it sadly that he cannot provide for his brothers and sisters. I wish you would allow me to tell him how much help you give us. I am sure he suspects that we could not manage on my fortune alone." "Nay, lass, let be. I've enough for me needs and a bit over, I thank God. And I owe their mother summat that she brought you up a lady. ‘Tis not every stepmama'd've done it." "She was always very kind to me, and Papa was the dearest man, only not practical. I still regret that Hilltop Manor had to be sold, though I believe Geoffrey feels the loss more than James. However, enough of repining. What did you wish to say to me, Grandpapa?" "Think ye this clutch-fisted aunt o’ theirn will take Alice?" "I tried to word my letter in such a way that she will find it difficult to refuse,” replied Hester dryly. “The family never actually broke off all correspondence, you know, in spite of their disapproval of the ‘ shopkeeper and his brat.’” "If that's what they call us, I suppose there's no chance as Lady Bardry'd take you into Society along o’ Alice.” The old man sighed heavily as he abandoned his last hope of seeing his granddaughter well established. "Oh no, Grandfather, I'd not expect such condescension, nor want it. Whatever would the children do if I were to start gadding about to grand parties? Come, do not fall into the mopes. I've no pretensions to beauty and never desired to buy a husband with my fortune, so I'm happy to be able to use it for the good of the dear children. Such plans as I have for them!" In all Hester's plans, there was no room for thoughts of marriage for herself. Used to regarding herself as a nondescript dab of a girl, she was oblivious to the improvements in her appearance wrought by maturity. She was aware that, in spite of her mother's birth, a dowry of twenty thousand pounds might have brought her eligible suitors a-plenty. However, by the time Susan was of an age to be wed and Robbie to become a midshipman, her fortune would be much diminished, and at twenty-eight or -nine she would be firmly on the shelf. By that time, she had decided a little sadly, she would be so used to ruling the roost that doubtless the idea of submitting to a husband would be abhorrent to her anyway. She had every expectation of dwindling into a maiden aunt. Busy from dawn to dusk—running the household, cooking, teaching the children—she had no time for

regrets. Her slight figure belied a resilient strength, and, serene in the knowledge that she was doing her best, she seldom lost the gentle assurance that guided her family through good times and bad. Now she kissed her grandfather goodnight and watched him trudge through the twilight garden to his cosy cottage. On the threshold he turned to wave to her, and she waved back. Then she went upstairs to see to her patient. Mr. Fairfax was still sleeping, though far from peacefully. He moved restlessly as if trying to find a comfortable position, prevented by his leg. Hester laid a hand on the small area of his forehead that was not obscured by the bandage; he seemed somewhat feverish. She fetched lavender water and began bathing his brow. He soon grew still. The moaning and muttering ceased, and after a minute or two his eyes opened. They had a glazed look, which she attributed to the drug he had taken, and he seemed unable to focus on her face. "Dreaming,” he mumbled. “No more lau ... lau'num.” Then clearly: “Lavender lady!" His eyes closed, and he seemed to sleep again. Now he lay peacefully, Hester was relieved to note. There was a slight smile on his face. Suspecting he had been having nightmares before, she wondered what he was dreaming of now and resolved to give him no more medicine without first consulting Dr. Price. She knew some people had unpleasant reactions to laudanum. She sat by his bedside for another half hour. He continued to sleep quietly, so she lit a fresh candle, took hers, and went to join her family.

Chapter 2 Hester awoke in the middle of the night. The evening had been so warm that she had left her curtains open, and a huge harvest moon was floating in the midnight sky, looking near enough to pluck like a ripe apple, bathing woods and meadows in its glow. An errant ray had fallen across her face and roused her. Since she did not feel drowsy, Hester decided to check on Mr. Fairfax. She put a wrap around her shoulders and slipped along the hallway, carefully avoiding the board that always creaked. Mr. Fairfax was awake, and by the light of the guttering candle she could see that he was alert. There was no sign of fever or drug haze in the smiling face he turned toward her. "Let me light a new candle,” she proposed. “It must be later than I thought if this one is nearly done." "I hope you did not rise solely for my sake. I shall do very well until morning." "How is your leg, sir?" "It hurts like the devil,” he answered frankly, “but no more of that medicine, I beg of you. I had rather suffer the pain than the nightmares. Though, to tell the truth, I am rather sharp-set by pangs of hunger than by my injuries. I missed my dinner last night. Of course your cook must be abed, but do you suppose you might find me a piece of bread to keep me alive until breakfast?" "I am the cook,” said Hester, flushing a little as he raised his eyebrows. “You see, we have but one maidservant and I had rather cook than clean,” she added hurriedly, then wondered whether that made it worse. Annoyed with herself for a sensitivity she did not normally feel, she spoke in an abrupt tone. “I can get you bread and cold meat, or perhaps an omelette." Mr. Fairfax unexpectedly seized her hand and kissed it before she could pull it away. "I have offended you!” he exclaimed in mock despair. “And I am entirely at your mercy.” Still holding her hand, he studied it. “I was under the impression that cooks had huge, rough, red hands, and yours are small and soft and white.” He raised his eyebrows again, in enquiry this time. "One of the things I make in my kitchen is a lotion for the skin,” explained Hester, and added, with candour, “Besides, Ivy washes the dishes. Come, give me back my incongruous hand and I will make you an omelette." "Bread and meat will be more than adequate, Miss Godric,” he said meekly, but with a teasing twinkle in his eye. She wondered if he knew how charming he was, but suspected that he was quite aware of it. "You'll eat what you're given,” she told him tartly, and departed. While she was gone, Lord Alton lay and thought about her. Her speech was that of a lady, yet the little information he had gleaned from their brief conversations placed her firmly in the lower middle class. A gentlewoman come down in the world, perhaps. No matter. Her reactions were delightfully unexpected, and he decided it might be amusing to further his acquaintance with her while he was confined to his bed. He would need amusement, he suspected, shifting painfully. At this point in his musings, she reentered the room, bearing a tray from which arose mouth-watering aromas. She smiled at him as she set it down. The familiar actions involved in producing a meal had completely restored her composure. She had no reason to be concerned for his opinion of her. He was simply another chick to be taken under her wing until he could fly by himself. It was seven years since her

stepmother had succumbed to a putrid sore throat, and mothering was the role that came easiest to her by now. "I have made you a ham omelette,” she announced as she helped him sit up and propped pillows behind his back. “A Hamlet, as Robbie still calls it. I trust it has not suffered on its journey from the kitchen. I thought you had best eat something light, as you will be lying down again soon." The Hamlet, he found, was accompanied by a large slice of apple pie and a tankard of ale. Suddenly thirsty, he took a long drink. 'Home-brewed,” he commented, “and excellent. Surely you do not..." "Oh no, that is Brakspear's. We do not consume much ale. Jamie likes it occasionally, and Geoff after he has been digging. I prefer cider myself." "I dare swear you know how to brew, though." "It is not at all difficult. My father used always to have ale made at the manor." "An omelette is difficult, however. I have rarely tasted such a light and flavourful one. My compliments, Miss Godric. Do you keep hens and pigs?" "I am sorry to disappoint you. Geoffrey would like to do so, but our space is limited, and I confess to a strong dislike of the inevitable odours and noise. "You do disappoint me. Now you will tell me that you do not make all the family's clothes and teach Jamie his Latin into the bargain." "Alice is our seamstress, and an excellent one. I have as little taste for stitchery as for hog-keeping, I fear. Nor do I profess to know any Latin, though I do teach the girls and Rob. Indeed, I have no elegant accomplishments, for though I was studying music and sketching, since my stepmother died I have had no time for such things." "You mentioned your father..." "Ralph Godric, Esquire, of Hilltop Manor, Henley-on-Thames, in the County of Oxford,” she quoted at him. "I believe I must have met him, in town. Was he not married to a Hawthorpe?" "Yes, Alicia, my stepmother. Do you know the family?" "My sister is acquainted with Henrietta Bardry, I believe,” he replied cautiously. "So you do have a family, then! I was beginning to think you had none since you did not mention anyone. Surely I had better notify your sister of your whereabouts before she begins to worry?" "Ariadne is not in the least likely to wonder where I am. She is a good deal older than I, and we avoid each other as much as possible. I can think of no one who need be informed.” Ruthlessly, he dismissed from his mind an entire household of servants who would doubtless be frantically wondering what had become of their master. It would not be the first time he had disappeared for a couple of weeks without notice, so let them think he was off enjoying himself with some high-flying bit of muslin. Hester was looking distressed.

"She is your only relative? What an unhappy position to be in!" Lord Alton's hopeful heir, a quartet of other nephews and nieces, and a variety of more distant relations followed his servants into limbo as he basked in Hester's sympathy. "Yes,” he said mournfully, “like you I am an orphan. I am alone in the world." To his surprise, she laughed. "As I am not,” she pointed out. “And judging by the cheerful tone in which you spoke of your estrangement from your sister, you are by no means distressed by your solitary situation. At any rate, for the next few weeks you will have family a-plenty, unless you mean to bar the door or to remove to the White Hart or the Bull. The children are bursting with curiosity, and I am sure I cannot guarantee your peace and quiet. I beg you will tell them to leave when they try your patience." "It will be a novel experience,” he assured her sincerely. “I have never dealt with children in my life." "As to that, only Rob and Susan are really children. The older three are shockingly offended if I refer to them in that way." "I will remember,” he promised. “I look forward to meeting them." The conversation was distracting his attention from the pain in his leg, but he bethought himself that while he would spend the morrow enjoying his enforced leisure, his nurse would doubtless have numerous tasks to accomplish. "Had you not better retire, Miss Godric?” he suggested with the consideration that was part of his charm. “I am sure you have a busy day ahead of you." "Perhaps I should. Shall you sleep, do you think?” Testing for fever, she laid her cool hand, quite unselfconsciously, on his forehead. He realised that she had, with an equal lack of embarrassment, spent half an hour in a man's bedchamber in the middle of the night, and in her nightgown. "No fever,” Hester announced. “Are you sure you will not take a little more medicine? I own I think it best that you should not, but I can see that your leg is very painful." "And I thought I was bravely concealing my agony! No more laudanum, I thank you. If you can spare me another candle, I shall occupy myself with one of Jamie's less abstruse tomes. Or has he none?" "He does run to philosophy and logic. However, I have some volumes of travellers’ tales that might amuse you. I'll not offer you Alice's romantic novels!" Hester took the tray and left. She returned presently with a bundle of candles and another of books. "Do you not wish to lie down?” she asked, as she placed them near him. "Should I decide to do so, I am sure I can manage if you do not object to having your pillows thrown upon the floor. I am very wakeful at present. Thank you, Miss Godric, for your books, your cooking, and your company." "You must ring the bell if you need me. I shall hear, and it is not likely to rouse the others. I hope you will get some sleep, Mr. Fairfax." "Goodnight, and happy dreams."

She went out and pulled the door to, then popped her head round it. "Oh, I do have one elegant accomplishment,” she said mischievously. “I speak French. Bonne nuit, monsieur, et dormez bien!" Much to his surprise, Mr. Fairfax did fall asleep before dawn, and did not awake until near midday. When he opened his eyes, he found himself being subjected to a severe scrutiny by a large and regal grey-and-white cat, which was seated on his windowsill. "Good morning,” said Mr. Fairfax, after a few moments of mutual inspection. “I don't believe I have your name?" The cat merely blinked its great yellow eyes, but from the corridor outside the chamber came a double thud, the sound of running footsteps, and a youthful voice crying: "Hester, Hester, he's awake! Hester, Mr. Fairfax is awake! I heard him talking. Jamie, can I help you get your books? Hester, can I...?” The sound died away. Hester was alarmed to hear that her patient had apparently been talking to himself. He had seemed quite compos mentis in the night, but maybe he had relapsed and was delirious. Shushing Robbie and hurrying up the stairs, she knocked on his door. "Come in,” said a cheerful voice. The first thing she saw on entering was the cat, which was now washing himself in a dignified. way. "Oh!” she exclaimed in relief, “you were talking to Gumby. When Robbie told me he heard you speak, I was afraid you were wandering." "My wits may wander, but I'll not go far with this leg,” grimaced Mr. Fairfax. “Good morning, Miss Godric." "Good morning, sir. Is your leg very bad?" "In general it has subsided to a mere throbbing ache. However, when I try to move it is ... considerably more painful, shall we say." "And your head?" "Truth to tell, I had forgot it,” he admitted, raising his hand to touch the bandages. “It is a little tender, but I have no headache." "Good. In spite of the appalling amount of blood, I did not think it a serious injury." "And did you not swoon at the sight of the bleeding corpse at your door?" "I should not be of much use to the children if I were such a ninnyhammer,” answered Hester, amused. “Robbie is forever falling off things, and only last month Geoff stepped on a rake in the garden. That was far worse than a mere cut forehead." "Spare me the gory details,” shuddered Mr. Fairfax. “You are a remarkable woman, Miss Godric." "Oh no!” she said in surprise. “I only do what any mother does for her children." He refrained from pointing out that they were not her children, and thought of his own mother who had

rarely seen him, let alone comforted his hurts. He changed the subject. "You have mentioned Geoff and Robbie this morning,” he said, “but I have the impression that last night you told me of several more. I fear I do not remember the details." "Three more. You were half-asleep when I told you. I'll not confuse you now, for I daresay you will meet them all today. Now, Mr. Fairfax, do you care for some breakfast, or would you prefer luncheon?" "Is it so late? My midnight Hamlet has faded to a dim memory. I will devour anything you have available." "You are easy to please, sir. Let me help you sit up, and then I shall see what I can produce." As she bent over him, he was very conscious of the fresh scent of lavender. He raised himself on his elbows, and her arm went round his shoulders. Once again he was astonished at the strength in her slim body as she helped him lift himself and tucked pillows behind his back. He could not suppress a groan as the movement disturbed his leg, and Hester looked at him in concern. "It's all right,” he reassured hastily. “Just a momentary twinge." For a moment she dubiously regarded his pale face, then accepted his assurance. "Are you comfortable?” He nodded. “Then I'll return shortly." The tap on the door, some fifteen minutes later, heralded not Hester but a dark-haired vision of beauty followed by a small and slightly grubby boy with a laden tray. "Here's your breakfast, sir,” announced the latter proudly. “I carried it all the way upstairs and didn't spill a drop." Mr. Fairfax managed to tear his eyes away from the vision. "Thank you,” he answered. “You must be Robbie, I think?" "Robbie, mind your manners,” reproved the vision. “I'm Alice Godric, sir, and this is my youngest brother.” She seemed quite unconscious of the effect she had produced. "How do you do, sir,” said Robbie, “and I can't bow, Alice, ‘cos I'm holding this tray, so there." "Set it on the table by the bed, you gudgeon, so that Mr. Fairfax can reach it." "Don't call me a gudgeon,” Rob objected pugnaciously. “Hester said you're not to.” He carefully deposited the tray, then turned and bowed. “There! Can I stay and talk to you while you eat, sir? Alice says I'm not to, but Hester said I might if I asked politely and you did not mind." Alice heaved a sigh, which did wonderful things to her figure. “Please excuse him, sir,” she begged. “He's only little." Warned of the coming explosion by the stormy look on Robbie's face, Mr. Fairfax hastily intervened. "I shall be happy to have company,” he assured Alice. “Please thank Miss Godric on my behalf. She seems to have provided enough to feed an army." "Hester is a wonderful cook. Are you sure you want Rob to stay? Very well, but toss him out if he bothers you.” Alice left before Robbie could retort.

"They all pick on me because I'm youngest,” he explained bitterly. “I won't bother you, and I'm not little, am I, sir?" "How old are you?” queried Mr. Fairfax around a mouthful of cold beef. “Eight? I have a nephew of that age, and I would say you are a head taller at least.” Too late, he remembered that he had denied any family other than his sister. At least Robbie seemed pleased with his answer. "What's his name?” he asked eagerly. “Does he like ships? Has he ever been boating? Can he row? I can. Does he live by the sea? If he does, I should like to know him." "His name is Frederick, I believe. He does not live by the sea, and I fear I do not know his interests. Am I right in thinking you want to be a sailor?" "Oh yes! I have wanted to forever, and Hester says I may become a midshipman when I am old enough. But let's talk about that later. I have an important question I have to ask you. Pray do not answer if it mortifies you!” he added anxiously. "Whatever do you want to know?” asked Mr. Fairfax, somewhat startled. "Well, I do not see why you should be mortified, but Hester said you might. Were you ever at a university?" "Why, yes, I was at Oxford. I suppose the question might conceivably have embarrassed me if I had not. However, I cannot imagine of what interest it can be to you, Robbie. Sailors do not customarily go in for studies of that sort." "It's not for me. Jamie wants to go to Oxford, and the vicar has not opened a Greek book for a century, and he hoped you could help him." "And why did Master James not ask me himself?" "He would have, only he was dreading it in case you were offended or did not wish to teach him. Should you wish to?" "I don't see why not, since I am to be confined to bed. It will help to pass the time." "Good. I'll tell him to stop worrying. You will not tell Hester I asked for him, will you? She says he must strive to overcome his shyness." "No, I'll not tell. And may I ask what it is that you must strive to overcome?" "I must mind my manners, and Geoff must mind his tongue, and Alice has excessive sensibilities, and Susan is ... sancti-something. It means she prays all the time." "I see,” said Mr. Fairfax gravely. “It seems Miss Godric has an amazingly difficult family to manage." "Oh no, she says we are helpful and commonsensical and...” He noticed the twinkle in Mr. Fairfax's eye. “You are bamming me,” he declared with severity. “Are you finished eating? I'll take the tray and go and tell Jamie not to worry. Good-bye, sir. I'll come and see you again later." "Thank you, Robbie. Tell James I am at his service.” With much manoeuvring, Rob managed to get himself and the tray out of the room and shut the door. Gazing out of the window at a herd of brown and white cows that were peacefully grazing the hillside beyond the Oxford road, Mr. Fairfax pondered the unexpected delights of conversation with a small boy.

He had never taken the slightest interest in his sister's children, with the occasional exception of his heir, George, but he rather doubted that their company would be equally stimulating. Ariadne had brought them up to be seen and not heard, and as a result they had nothing whatever of interest to say. He looked forward to discussing the navy with Robbie, to feasting his eyes on Alice, and even, though with some misgivings, to coaching Jamie.

Chapter 3 By the time Mr. Fairfax's next visitors arrived, he was tired of watching the cows and was about to turn to a book. He had heard wheels passing frequently in the busy post road below, and this time the sound stopped close by. A few minutes later, he heard someone call: “Hester, it's Dr. Price." After a short interval, there were heavy footsteps in the passage, and his door was opened without ceremony. "And how are we today, young man?” enquired the doctor. He was followed by a lad of some fifteen summers whom Mr. Fairfax guessed to be Geoffrey. His surmise was confirmed by Dr. Price. "I brought young Cheoffrey with me, look you,” he explained, “to help turn and lift you. Miss Godric wished to come, but I succeeded in persuading her that her presence would embarrass you." "Thank you, sir,” said Mr. Fairfax gratefully, and smiled at Geoff, who bowed and grinned. He appeared to be minding his tongue very thoroughly, as he said not a word throughout the examination that followed. It proved painful, but the Welshman was satisfied with the results. "You can remove the bandach on your head tomorrow,” he declared. “That leg will keep you confined these three months and more if you'll take my advice. Indeed to goodness, and if you should not, ye'll be limping the rest of your life." "I cannot stay here so long,” protested Mr. Fairfax. “Miss Godric has enough on her hands without a helpless stranger to nurse. Surely I may travel sooner?" "Well, it is your leg...” began the doctor, when Geoffrey interrupted him. "Hester would not dream of letting you leave before you should,” he insisted, “and we shall all help with the extra work. It would be foolish beyond permission to risk a limp for no reason ... I beg your pardon, sir; I should not have said that.” He looked absurdly guilty, and Mr. Fairfax, remembering Robbie's words, had trouble keeping a straight face. "Unpardonably foolish,” he agreed solemnly. Turning to the physician, he thanked him for his care, and Dr. Price left, saying he would return in a week or so unless summoned sooner. Geoffrey stayed behind to assure the patient that his horses were well cared for. “They're a bang-up bit of blood and bone, sir,” he enthused. "Only a trifle skittish where dogs are concerned,” pointed out Mr. Fairfax wryly. “I shall sell them when I return to London. You say they have no blemishes?" A wide-ranging discussion of horseflesh followed. During this exchange, Geoff unintentionally let slip that on his father's death, some two years previously, a stable of a score of animals had had to be disposed of, along with the manor, and that presently they owned no horses. "Fancy and Checkmate were not bred up as saddle horses,” mused Mr. Fairfax, “but they will need exercising and you might try riding them. Can you obtain tack?" "I do not wish you to think I am complaining,” said Geoff belligerently. “I know it was necessary that everything should be sold, and even so Hester pays most of the bills out of her own pocket." Does she indeed! thought Mr. Fairfax. Aloud, he spoke soothingly. “Did I accuse you of complaining?

You did not do so, nor is it my place to reprove you if you did. Tell me, can you beg, borrow, or steal a saddle to exercise my horses?" "Yes, I will.” Geoffrey rose from his chair and paced restlessly up and down the narrow chamber. “Curse my tongue!” he muttered. “Jamie will say I should not have mentioned private family matters to a stranger, and he is right, as usual. You will not tell him?” he added pleadingly. "Of course not.” Mr. Fairfax thought with amusement that this was the second secret he was expected to keep. He hoped he would remember what had to be kept from whom. Geoffrey quickly recovered his youthful buoyancy. "There's not much to do in the garden at this season,” he said. “I'll go right away and borrow some stuff from Jarvis. Thank you, sir!" Opening the door, he came face to face with his eldest brother, who had been about to knock. "Here's Jamie,” he announced, and ran off. "May I come in, sir?” asked Jamie stiffly. "Pray do." "I'm James Godric. How do you do, sir? I am very sorry that our dog caused your accident." "How do you do, Mr. Godric. I assure you that my team was quite as much at fault as your dog." "It's good of you to say so, sir.” He hesitated, then flushed. “Robbie told me ... that is." "I understand that you are a Greek scholar. I shall be happy to lend you what aid I can. I can claim no expertise, but my experience is somewhat more recent than that of your tutor. A century, I believe, was the period mentioned by your brother." "I hope Rob was not rude.” He flushed again. “He was only trying to help me, you know." "Not realising that it would pain you far more to have your, er, diffidence exposed. I found him delightful, and Geoffrey also." "I suppose they are not bad as brothers go,” Jamie observed dispassionately. “Most of the time,” he amended. Mr. Fairfax grinned. "I have quite lost count of your family,” he declared. “How many have I still to meet?" "I think you saw Alice this morning? Then there is just Susan. And Grandfather Stevens, of course, though he is not strictly my family." "No?" "He is Hester's grandfather, though we all look on him as our own." "Ah, yes. I have a vague memory of Miss Godric mentioning a stepmother. She is your half sister, then?" "Yes, and the best sister in the world.” said Jamie fervently, losing his self-consciousness for a moment.

"That I can believe,” responded Mr. Fairfax. “Well, Mr. Godric, did you want a Greek lesson this afternoon?" "Hester says you must rest for a day or two, sir. I came to collect my books." "I appreciate the loan of your chamber. Are you sharing with your brothers? That must make it difficult to concentrate on philosophy and Latin." "I am using Hester's study, where she does the accounts.” As he spoke, James piled books from the shelves onto the floor. "If Miss Godric forbids my teaching today, perhaps you will leave me a Greek text or two so that I may brush up. Is that Aristophanes? Sufficiently light reading for an invalid, I think. Thank you. And before you go, would you be so kind as to help me to lie down? I am a little fatigued." He found the necessity of asking for assistance most disagreeable. A gentleman of independent spirit, Lord Alton permitted his valet to shave him, but was in the habit of brushing his own hair, tying his own cravat, and even putting on his coat without aid. To be obliged to depend for the most personal and intimate services on a pair of schoolboys was odious, and only bearable, he felt, because they seemed to take helping him as a matter of course. Lying back, he listened to the drowsy humming bees and considered his situation. He decided that fate had not dealt him too harsh a blow. His leg ached but was excessively painful only when he moved, and his head was just slightly tender to the touch. According to Dr. Price, with luck he would not be left with a limp. He had been fortunate enough to fall in with a delightful family who appeared to be willing to care for him indefinitely. He might look to Miss Godric to provide food for the body, to Jamie for food for the mind, and to Alice for a veritable feast for the eyes. He rather hoped the latter might be persuaded to indulge in a mild flirtation. The thought of an affaire crossed his mind, to be instantly dismissed. A fine return that would be for the hospitality so freely offered, and besides, it was not his habit to seduce innocence nor to press his attentions where they were not wanted, unlike some acquaintances he could name. David Fairfax, Lord Alton, had actually rarely found a woman who resisted his advances. A happy blend of title, money, good looks, and charm opened every door to him and many a heart. A frivolous mother, of whom he caught fleeting glimpses as she flew from party to modiste to lover, had early made him cynical where females were concerned. Nothing he had experienced since had given him cause to change his mind, and at the age of thirty he was the despair of matchmaking mamas with whose eligible daughters he would flirt elegantly before passing on to the next. His mistresses were legion, and legend, both among the demimonde and the ranks of society matrons and widows. Always generous, he prided himself on the fact that no woman suffered through him. His taste ran toward well-seasoned beauties who knew what they were about. In fact, Alice Godric was not at all his type, he realised. True, she was an outstanding beauty, but she had none of the worldly sophistication that distinguished even his innocent flirts among the marriageable damsels regularly paraded for his edification. Even a simple flirtation would have to be carefully managed so as not to give rise to unwarranted hopes in the girl's mind, or her sister's. Altogether it sounded like a lot of work for small reward, but then he had little else to occupy him. And she was a veritable Aphrodite, he thought as he turned to Aristophanes. He was halfway through The Clouds, and feeling smugly pleased with his returning fluency, when there was a knock at the door of his chamber.

"Come in!” he called, and waited in anticipation to see which of his new friends would appear. It was Hester, bearing a pot of tea and followed by a small girl with a plate of cakes. "Miss Godric!” He smiled at her. “A cup of tea is just what I need to wash down this dry Greek." "We generally have tea about this time. My father refused to keep country hours and we still dine late. What are you reading? The Clouds? I would not describe that as dry." "You know it? You are truly a remarkable woman!" "I have not read it in the original, only in Mr. Owen's translation, but I found it most entertaining. My stepmother believed that a woman should always know what the gentlemen are talking about." "A dangerous doctrine,” he remarked with a grin. “You will leave us no secrets. This must be Susan, is it not?" Susan curtsied and offered the cakes. "I have been praying for your swift recovery, sir,” she announced gravely. "The sight of your pretty face will do me more good than any number of prayers, Miss Susan." "Alice is the beauty of the family,” the child answered austerely. “I consider inward beauty to be more important." Mr. Fairfax met Hester's eye and was hard put to keep a straight face. “I am sure you are right,” he said with irreproachable solemnity, “but inward beauty needs feeding. Will you share my cakes?" "Oh yes, please, sir!” Eyes sparkled as the gourmande overcame the saint. “May I, Hester? Do you particularly like cream puffs, sir?” she asked anxiously. "I am particularly fond of gingerbread. You had best eat the cream puff, Miss Susan, for it will not do to return anything to the kitchen. I must not offend your sister.” His laughing eyes met Hester's over Susan's bent head. “Miss Godric, will you not join us for a cup of tea?" "Do, Hester,” seconded her sister. “We will have a proper tea party. I'll fetch you a cup, but pray do not eat my cream puff!” She whirled out of the room. Hester settled in the rocker with a tiny sigh, which did not go unnoticed. "I think you have found the irresistible temptation,” she congratulated. “Do not the nuns in convents live upon porridge and fish? Susan cannot abide either. I daresay it is wicked to wish that she were less pious, but it is very trying, and she does so annoy the others with her preaching. Could you, do you suppose, persuade her that she would like to be a pastrycook when she grows up?" "A popular occupation, and one which would ease your labours. I shall try. I am afraid my presence gives you a deal of extra work." "Indeed no, you must not think so! To cook for seven instead of six is no great difference. I am a little tired from doing my monthly accounts. I fear I am no mathematician for all Grandpapa's coaching. But they come out right in the end, and after the struggle baking is positively restful. Hence the gingerbread." "Which is gloriously treacle-and-spicy. I've not had any so good since I was a child."

"You are a sad flatterer, Mr. Fairfax. You will turn my head." "No flattery. I am simply assuring myself of an adequate supply of gingerbread in the weeks to come. Miss Godric, my pockets are not quite to let. I can well afford to pay for—" "Here is Susan with my cup,” Hester interrupted him. “Thank you, dear. Will you pour me some tea?" There was a brief silence while Susan carefully poured out milk and tea. Hester was thinking fondly and proudly how well she managed it. Mr. Fairfax, unaware of the niceties of elegant tea service—though he would have noticed their lack—was remembering Geoffrey's unintentional revelation that Hester paid the bills. Apparently she was sensitive on the subject. He resolved to find a way to reimburse her without embarrassing her. The family's way of life made it obvious that there were no funds available to be thrown away on strangers. Lord Alton had had the merest nodding acquaintance with the late Mr. Ralph Godric, whose passion had been the gambling table. He himself belonged to a younger generation, and to a set of Corinthians who preferred to stake their wealth on their own ability to excel at a variety of strenuous and frequently dangerous pastimes. It seemed Mr. Godric had not been lucky at dice or cards, and if his eldest daughter held the purse-strings, her fortune must have come from her mother's family. Mr. Fairfax had a sudden desire to meet Grandfather Stevens. "Now I have met the whole family,” he declared, “except for your grandfather, Miss Godric. I should like to thank him for the loan of his nightshirt." "Grandpa Stevens cannot climb the stairs,” explained Susan. “His back hurts. He says it is from too many years behind the counter of his shops." Mr. Fairfax glanced at Hester. She was slightly flushed, but made no move to hush her sister. "My grandfather is anxious to meet you, sir,” she said. “However, you will have to wait at least a month, according to Dr. Price, before it will be safe to take you below stairs. I hope you will not find the confinement unbearably tedious." "Judging by today,” he replied, “I shall have visitors enough to pass the time most pleasantly. I begin to think I have passed a great deal of my life in unrecognised tedium." "I daresay you will soon wish for peace and quiet. I find myself doing so not infrequently, dearly as I love the children. Well, I must be on my way if we are to dine this evening. If you have finished your cake, Susan, you may carry the things down for me." "I still have a bite left, Hester. I pushed all the cream down to the end, and I've been saving it for last.” She looked guilty. “Oh dear, I'm not supposed to do that, am I? I'll bring everything down in a minute." Hester shook her head in mock despair and went out. Susan gloatingly licked the last blob of cream from her fingers and heaved a sigh of satisfaction. "What an excellent cook your sister is,” commented Mr. Fairfax. “I daresay she is teaching you the art? It must be delightful to be able to make pastries for yourself." "No, she only teaches me things like geography and history, and Alices teaches me sewing: It would be of all things great to know how to bake cakes. Only imagine, I could lick all the bowls myself, instead of sharing with Robbie! I'll ask Hester to show me. Do you not think it would be more fun than ironing shirts?"

"I daresay, but I hope you will not neglect your brothers’ shirts. I have always been impressed by the way a skillful wielder of the smoothing iron can transform a wrinkled rag into a garment fit to wear to the Regent's dinner parties,” lied Mr. Fairfax shamelessly. "Have you been to his parties? They must be very magnificent.” Susan's attention was momentarily caught, but she returned at once to the main point. “I pressed a new shirt for Grandpa Stevens this morning and he said he had never seen one so neat. And Hester said I was a great help and she did not know how she should go on without me. I'd like to help her cook, too. I'll go right now and ask her to teach me." Mr. Fairfax lay back with a self-satisfied smirk. He hoped that by next day the volatile child would not have decided she wanted to be a stagecoach driver.

Chapter 4 The next morning a blustery west wind brought rain in driving sheets, hiding the far side of the valley and turning the busy Oxford road, which had begun to dry out, into a sticky morass again. Mr. Fairfax had been more fatigued by the pain of his injuries than he had realised, but after a peaceful night he awoke refreshed. He was joined before breakfast by Robbie, who had somehow already both muddied and bloodied his bare knees. He responded to an interested enquiry with the news that he had gone down to the river when the rain stopped for a moment. "That's the best time to catch frogs,” he explained. “They come out of the river when it rains, ‘specially early in the morning. I caught a middling green one, only I had to kneel down to get it and there was a sharp stone in the way, so I scraped my knee and got a bit dirty. I wiped my feet and washed my hands,” he added anxiously, displaying the latter. "Should you not wash the dirt from that scratch?" "I'll do it after breakfast. I'm ravenous. D'you want to see my frog?” The unfortunate amphibian was hauled from his pocket and placed on the edge of the bed, where it sat in astounded indignation, blinking, with its throat palpitating. “Jimmy Barnes nabbed a bigger one,” Robbie went on, “but it wouldn't fit in his pocket, so he had to let it go. You should have seen it heading for the river. It jumped about a mile in one jump." The frog on the bed took the hint. With a flying leap, it landed on the bookcase, and thence dove under the bed, where it set up a belligerent croaking. When Hester brought in his breakfast tray a few minutes later, the invalid was lying back helpless with laughter while from beneath his bed a pair of grubby legs waved at her. "Robbie!” she exclaimed, setting down the tray, “whatever are you doing?" A muffled voice emerged. "I'm just getting my frog. It's dusty in here.” A huge sneeze followed. "Come out at once,” she ordered, raising her eyes to heaven. “Mr. Fairfax, I do assure you that we do not customarily have frogs running loose in the bedchambers, and if you do not stop laughing you will shake up your leg." "I already did,” he gasped. “Very painful but well worth it. It reminds me of the time I put a mouse in my sister's chest-of-drawers." "Hush, do not encourage him. Robbie, go fetch a broom and we will see if we cannot chase it out. You'll never find it under there." Robbie, filthy now from top to toe, ran off, and Hester sat down with a despairing sigh. The frog, dejected and dust-covered, promptly crawled out by her foot. Instead of screaming and jumping up, as Mr. Fairfax expected, Hester bent down and picked it up. It sat in her hand, looking at her with bright, reproachful eyes. "Poor thing,” she murmured. “Children are so thoughtless. But I don't believe you are hurt. Robbie shall put you in the garden and you may be useful eating the insects that plague Geoff so."

On his return, Rob was sent to liberate his captive, change his clothes, and wash. "And tell Ivy about this mess,” added Hester, “with your apologies." Shortly after breakfast, Mr. Fairfax was privileged to meet Mistress Ivy Hewitt. There was a knock, and a dour middle-aged face crowned with an inappropriately frilly cap appeared round the door. "I'm to clean,” it announced gloomily. “If yer doesn't mind, sir." "Come in. Master Robbie left some traces of his presence, I'm afraid." Ivy entered, bearing pails, mops, and dusters. "Young imp o’ Satan. But there, boys will be boys.” She sniffed. “So, yer broke yer leg is what I hear." "That's right.'' "Well, I'm sure I hopes yer recovers. Me husband's brother's nephew by marriage, young Ned that be, he bust his leg nigh three year agone and's limping yet. Then old Molly, she'd be me da's sister's husband's auntie, she niver stood agin. Bin in her grave fifteen year come October, her has. Hurt yer head then, too, did yer, sir?" "Yes, I did.” Mr. Fairfax waited in horrified fascination for the next revelation. "Ah, well. Mr. Trimbull's cousin's boy as lives over to Sonning Common, Willy's his name, fell offn a cow when he were six, hit his head on a fence post and ain't bin right since. His mind wanders,” Ivy explained with grim satisfaction. "Fell off a cow?" queried Mr. Fairfax, aghast. "Wot's it matter wot he fell off of? Not but wot he din't ought ter've bin a-riding of it. Proper licking his da gave him. Still and all, I dessay yer head ain't that bad,” she offered like a sudden ray of sunshine, though in a thoroughly depressed tone. “Miss Hester says ye c'n have the bandage off terday. Every cloud has a silver lining. Well, I better give yer room the once-over. Master Jamie don't like me ter come in here. Don't mind me." With this advice she set to work, and in a remarkably short time the chamber was spotless. Mr. Fairfax had never before been constrained to watch a housemaid at work, but considering the vast staff his butler found necessary even for his relatively modest house in London, he doubted that many were such paragons of efficiency. When she finished, he impulsively held out his hand. "Thank you, Mistress Ivy,” he said. “I am happy to have made your acquaintance, and I hope we shall have another chat soon." She examined his outstretched hand with suspicion, then shook it gingerly. "If yer lives,” she answered with unabated pessimism. “Don't count yer chickens afore they be hatched." A few minutes after Ivy left, Hester reappeared to see if he needed anything. He regaled her with the sad histories of young Ned, old Molly, and Mr. Trimbull's cousin's boy Willy. "Oh dear,” she laughed. “I really should have warned you. Ivy is not the most cheerful of souls at the best of times, and when it rains she becomes positively Friday-faced. She has been with the family for ever, and one grows accustomed to her ways. I fear you have had an exhausting morning. You shall not be disturbed again before luncheon, I promise."

"I shall seize the time to continue to brushing up my Greek. It would be too humiliating if James were to find me as rusty as the vicar." "You are not to be feeling obliged to coach him,” Hester told him anxiously. “Perhaps I was wrong to allow him to ask you so soon after your accident. I should never forgive myself were you to overtax your strength." Mindful not to reveal that Robbie, rather than James, had made the approach, Mr. Fairfax reassured her. However, she was still uneasy when she left him. **** Two weeks later, Hester was once again haunted by a feeling of disquiet, though it was no longer prompted by concern over Jamie's tutoring. For the most part, all was going well. Mr. Fairfax was proving an ideal guest and a perfect patient. He was never crotchety or complaining, though his injured leg often pained him. Unfailingly courteous, he always had a compliment for her cooking, and he frequently expressed a slightly surprised pleasure in the company of her brothers and sisters. Jamie’ s Greek lessons had quickly become a regular routine. Mr. Fairfax was by no means a classical scholar, but he knew where to look for answers, and Jamie found the dullest of syntax problems becoming voyages of exploration as the two of them pored over volume after volume in search of explanations and examples. Robbie found in Mr. Fairfax a source of a different kind of exploration. It did not take him many days to discover that in his far-distant youth (before Robbie was born!), Mr. Fairfax had sailed not only to the West Indies and the Americas, but also to India, and even to the Slave Coast of Africa. The indulgent gentleman submitted to hours of interrogation, and if the tales of adventure retold nightly at the dinner table seemed somewhat fantastical, Hester was not one to cavil. Geoffrey enjoyed exercising Fancy and Checkmate, and in exchange for his help with rescuing hay and harvest from the foul weather, one of the local farmers was providing fodder. Susan's efforts in the kitchen were bearing fruit to the extent that she had to be dragged away from a gooseberry fool to dress for church one Sunday. The first thing she learned to make was gingerbread, and she made sure that there was a constant supply, in spite of Mr. Fairfax's protests that he would grow fat. It was where Alice was concerned that Hester was disturbed. She noticed that Mr. Fairfax watched her sister constantly whenever she entered his room, and that he had difficulty in tearing his eyes away when addressed by someone else. Soon she was certain that he was in love with her and, suppressing pangs of unacknowledged jealousy, she pitied him. Alice showed no sign of returning his regard, seemed unaffected by the charm which Hester felt so strongly, and appeared totally unconscious of the emotions she aroused. Since the age of fifteen, Alice had fallen in love with monotonous regularity, but at the moment she displayed no preference for any of her admirers. Her suitors had for the past two years been a constant source of worry to Hester, and of alternate amusement and annoyance to her brothers. Presently they ranged from Mr. Green, the draper's assistant, to the Honourable Edwin Barstow, Esquire, heir to a baronetcy; in age they varied from the said Mr. Green, a stripling of seventeen summers, to the staid height of five and thirty, owned to by Nathaniel Pettigrew, the curate. The numbers changed, but there were rarely fewer than five beaux on hand, and as Hester could not always spare the time to chaperone Alice when they visited, she often delegated that duty to James or Geoffrey, to their mutual disgust. Alice was a tender-hearted young lady. In vain did Hester suggest that she might attempt to discourage

the undeniably unsuitable Mr. Green. Not that Hester considered any of them suitable—not even Mr. Fairfax, of whom, after all, she knew practically nothing. Only Edwin Barstow qualified in terms of his situation in life, and he was a singularly foolish young man whose thoughts ran as often on the cut of a waistcoat or the set of a cravat as on the object of his affections. Moreover, his parents disapproved of the Godrics, according Hester no more than the merest nod when they met in St. Mary's church on a Sunday. Hester was ready to acknowledge that Alice's upbringing had not been ideal. She had done her best, but she was not conversant with the quirks of behaviour of the highest society, and she knew her sister had little hope of obtaining an entrée into county circles. In London, she hoped, it might be different. No one there would know of Alice's background, so her exceptional looks and sweet nature would certainly attract attention, if only her aunt could be persuaded to sponsor her. And once some wealthy, titled, and attractive gentleman had fallen in love with her, as was inevitable, surely he would not be put off by her lack of fortune or her plebeian sister. Her own birth could cause no objections. And Hester herself intended to be as inconspicuous as possible so as not to spoil her sister's chances. Naturally, the news that a fine London gentleman was staying at the Godrics’ soon made the rounds of the town and eventually reached the ears of Alice's followers. Mr. Barstow was much too far set up in his own conceit to be worried. Mr. Green made a few sulky, half-mumbled comments about “well-breeched toffee-nose swells” as he sold Alice a yard and a half of cheesecloth. It was left to Mr. Pettigrew to take the offensive. Mindful of his weak chest, the curate waited till the first fine day to press his attack. His questioning of Alice elicited the fact that she felt uncomfortable in Mr. Fairfax's presence. Not waiting to be told that this was because of her inability to understand what he was talking about, Mr. Pettigrew stormed up the stairs, his usually pallid face an interesting shade of purple. He left Alice in tears and Jamie, who had been playing chaperone, horrified. It promised to be just the sort of embarrassing situation he dreaded. He buried his head in his book. It took Mr. Pettigrew several tries to find the door behind which lurked the seducer of innocence he had come to chastise, and the search noticeably cooled his ardour. He knocked, and on Mr. Fairfax's invitation he entered. "There is a matter I wish to discuss with you,” he announced with more pomposity than pugnacity. "I don't believe I know you,” responded Mr. Fairfax, and the curate had a distinct feeling of being studied through a quizzing glass, though no such adjunct of fashion was in evidence. "I am the curate,” he said with decreased assurance. "A man of God? I do not remember requesting your presence, Mr...." "Pettigrew, Nathaniel Pettigrew. I must speak to you about Miss Alice." "About Miss Alice? Surely it is with Miss Godric you should speak. You are mistaken if you believe I have any authority over Miss Alice." "I must warn you, sir, that Miss Alice has friends, and if any attempt is made at seduction, they will know what to do!" "Most commendable, but I fail to see what the subject has to do with me.” Mr. Fairfax spoke languidly, but there was a glint in his eye.

"You'll not cozen me with your sneaking London ways!” Mr. Pettigrew burst out. “I tell you, if you lay a hand on her—" "My good man, you go too far.” The quiet tone of steely hauteur quelled the curate instantly. “Miss Alice has the face and figure of a goddess, but she is a widgeon. She is not of the slightest interest to me, though I cannot imagine why I should condescend to tell you so. You may leave, and on the way I suggest you apologise to Mr. Godric for insulting a guest beneath his roof." "Y-yes, sir,” stammered the unfortunate curate, and scurried from the room. Mr. Fairfax, feeling very much Lord Alton, leant back against his pillows and hoped that Miss Godric had not heard the altercation. He did not want her worried. What he had told Mr. Pettigrew was quite true. He not only had no though of seducing Alice, but had even given up trying to flirt with her. His most artful compliments drew only a blank gaze, and he had begun to wonder if she was not merely feather-headed but actually half-witted. The possibility in no way interfered with his enjoyment of the sight of her. A man confined for weeks to a small room was entitled to some pleasures other than the intellectual. Only the thought that the constant rain must have curtailed his activities to some extent in any event had made three weeks in bed endurable. Now that the sun was shining and he could once again count the cows on the slopes opposite his window, he was seized with restlessness. The prospect of being carried downstairs to a couch in the drawing room was irresistible, but Dr. Price had insisted on another week of immobility. For the first time since his arrival in Henley, he wondered if he ought to let someone know where he was. Three weeks was longer than any of his previous unannounced disappearances, and he did not want his staff sending the Bow Street Runners after him. He pondered on the best way to notify them without giving away his alias and was glad he had at least used his own name. Briefly, he considered admitting to his rank but quickly dismissed the idea. He did not analyse his reasons. In fact, he was afraid that the Godrics’ attitude toward him would change inexorably, that their delightfully open friendship would become the sort of toad-eating he so often met with. He had never before felt any real distaste for such sycophantic behaviour; it was too commonplace. Now the possibility was so distressing that he would not even examine it. He decided to write to his lawyer, who could inform his two households of his safety. Mr. Barnabas Rugby, of Rugby, Rugby, Jones, and Rugby, Solicitors, in the City of London, was an old friend of Lord Alton. He had been with him at Harrow, and they had gone on together to Balliol. Upon his accession to the title, David Fairfax had put his business unreservedly into Mr. Rugby's hands to the displeasure of Messrs. Hancock, Fitch, and Bradbury, who had handled the affairs of the earls of Alton for generations and made a good thing of it. The present earl was composing a discreet letter in his head when there was a knock on his door and a shamefaced Jamie entered. "Sir,” he began, “I must apologise for Mr. Pettigrew's conduct. Alice swears she gave him no cause to think ... to think..." "And where were you when I needed protection?” demanded Mr. Fairfax, a twinkle in his eye. Jamie flushed. “I thought you would not wish me to interfere,” he muttered hurriedly, gazing at his shoes. Then he looked up. “No, that is not true. I ... I could not face the scene, so I avoided it, in the most cowardly way. I beg your pardon, sir."

"Pray do not. You are not a coward, James, and I would not have you think it. Grown men of proven courage have been known to sneak away from scenes fraught with less embarrassment. I remember all too clearly the day I went to visit my current ... ahem, a lady of whom I was fond. Her butler admitted me and advised me that she was in the salon at the rear of the house. I paused outside the door to flick some dust from my sleeve and heard within the voices of the lady and of a gentleman from whom I won a great deal of money the previous day. She was consoling him for his losses and offering to sell a necklace I had given her to pay his debts. Believe me, Jamie, instead of confronting her with her perfidy, I not only cravenly crept away, but I never could face the cheating jade again." "Have you had many mistresses, sir?” enquired Jamie with shy curiosity. "Dash it, I did not mean to broach such a subject with you. My tongue grows as careless as Geoff's! Your sister will be accusing me of corrupting your morals." "I'll not tell her. But have you, sir?" "Well, if you insist,” sighed Mr. Fairfax, “yes, I have. I've no intention of adding Alice to their number, I assure you." "I never thought such a thing. That fool Pettigrew..." "Fools are not worth wasting words over. Jamie, would you be so good as to bring me pen, ink, paper, and sealing wax? I must write a letter." "Of course. Thank you, sir. I wish you were my father.” Jamie turned bright red and fled. Before Mr. Fairfax could recover from this astounding assertion, Robbie arrived with writing materials. "Jamie said to bring you these,” he announced. “And Susan has made her first-ever éclairs, and she says would you like one. I had three and they're good.” A mixture of cream and chocolate lingering on his chin lent support to his words. "Thank you, Robbie. You may tell Susan that I should love an éclair with my tea. If there are any left." "I'll make sure she saves you one. Who are you writing to?" "A friend of mine,” answered Mr. Fairfax, amused at the forthright question. “I decided I had better ask him to send me some clothes so that your grandfather may have his nightshirts back." "Oh, he has plenty. What's your friend's name? Is he a sailor?'' "His name is Mr. Barnabas Rugby, and I am afraid he is a lawyer." "Does he wear a wig, like everyone used in the olden days? Hester says lawyers still wear them. Does he know any highwaymen? If I wasn't going to be a sailor, I should like to be a highwayman." "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but Barney neither wears a wig nor hobnobs with gentlemen of the road." "Poor man, it must be very dull,” commiserated Robbie. "It is not what I should choose,” admitted his lordship. “How fortunate that people differ in their choice of occupation, or I daresay we should have nothing but highwaymen." "Then they would have no one to rob. What do you do, sir?"

"Well, I—er—you might say I support a large staff, among other things. Now off you go, Rob, or I shan't get this letter written." Robbie departed, perfectly satisfied with a vision in which Mr. Fairfax stood beside Atlas, one holding up the world, the other a vast piece of wood. Frightfully boring, he thought, but there was no knowing what grown-ups would take it into their heads to do, and he had said he did other things, too. Mr. Fairfax was left mentally kicking himself. Today he seemed unable to enter into a conversation that did not lead onto treacherous ground. He resolved to take excessive care with his letter to Barney.

Chapter 5 Mr. Fairfax's clothes arrived, in a cheap and unrevealing valise, by carrier the following Saturday. An accompanying note cursed him for a secretive wretch and promised to preserve him from his anxious servants. His letter had arrived barely in time to prevent a search being organised. Mr. Fairfax would now be able to appear below stairs decently clad. Dr. Price had set the great day for Monday and he was looking forward with all his heart to seeing something other than the four walls of Jamie's tiny room and the cows on the hillside. After much discussion it was decided, at his earnest plea, that he was sufficiently one of the family to be carried into the back room, a comfortable, shabby apartment where the Godrics spent most of their time. The front room, furnished with the best pieces saved from the sale of Hilltop Manor, was generally reserved for visitors of rank. Sunday dawned bright and fair, and by mid-morning a heat haze danced over the hills, as so often happens in early September. The midday roast was already in the oven, and Hester, hot and harried, decided to go to evensong with the boys. She sent Alice and Susan to the morning service, largely to get Susan out of the kitchen. After church, Alice was detained in conversation by Mr. Pettigrew, who had recovered his normal stolid demeanour. Susan noticed a small crowd by the lych-gate and wandered over to see what was going on. A pale young woman in a tattered dress leaned wearily against the churchyard fence, clasping a wailing infant. The vociferous group around her were arguing. "The poor creatur’ better go on the parish,” proposed one kindly soul. "We got no room for other folks's beggars,” complained another. "'Sright. Send her on her way." "And no wedding band on her finger, see?" "Tell her to move on, Mr. Smart. We don't need the likes o’ she." "She don't look well,” pointed out Mr. Smart, the beadle, a small, thin, worried man. “Would'n’ want her dying on the road now, would yer? Seems ter me we better take the pore thing to the workhouse." Susan waited for no more. Racing back to Alice, she plucked at her sleeve to get her attention. "Alice, Alice, there's a poor woman out there with a baby, and she's ill. We must take her home with us." "Oh, Susan, do you really think...” Alice looked at the noisy crowd and blenched. "Quite unnecessary, Miss Susan,” interjected the curate. “You need not bother your head about her. I shall see that she is taken to the workhouse." "Allie, you cannot let them take her there!” Susan was almost in tears. “Remember what happened to Nan Becket when old John died? She was quite young, and she died too, after just a few weeks in that place. It is our Christian duty to take her in. You know Hester would." "But I cannot..." "And the little baby, Allie! You could not be so cruel!"

Alice made up her mind. Gathering courage she did not know she possessed, she marched toward the lych-gate, followed by a protesting Mr. Pettigrew and an encouraging Susan. The crowd parted before her. The Godrics were generally looked up to in the town, though there were those who thought they held themselves too high, “considering.” They hushed each other to hear what Miss Alice would say. The girl had sunk to a crouch, her head resting against the railing. She looked to be no older than Alice herself, terribly thin with huge eyes in a white, pinched face where traces of prettiness lingered like the last light in the evening sky. "She's coming home with us,” announced Alice in a voice that startled her with its loudness and firmness. She bent over the mother and child and asked anxiously, “Can you walk? It is not far. I shall carry the baby, and Susan will go ahead to tell the others. What is your name?" "Grace,” murmured the young woman. "Come, Grace, let me help you rise." A dozen willing hands reached out to assist, now that the problem was no longer theirs. Alice thanked them all and asked Mr. Pettigrew to give his arm to her protégée. which he did with a bad grace. He continued to mutter remonstrances as they walked past the White Hart and the Catherine Wheel and turned into Bell Street. Alice was happy to see James and Geoffrey running in their direction before they had gone far. Mr. Pettigrew gave up his post with pleasure and hurried away. "What is going on, Allie?” demanded Jamie as he and his brother lent their support to the stranger's wavering steps. “Susan was practically unintelligible, but we gathered we were needed in a hurry." "She said Pettigrew was an odious beast. We thought we'd have to rescue you from him,” added Geoff disappointedly. Her need for resolution past, Alice wanted to sit down and burst into tears. With the baby in her arms, she could not do so, so she pulled herself together again and gave her brothers a fairly coherent account of what had happened. They were full of admiration. In a very few minutes, Hester found herself with another invalid on her hands. With a whispered word of gratitude, the unknown girl collapsed into restless slumber. Geoff was sent for Dr. Price. The old Welshman was gloomy. "She'll not live long, look you. Starvation, exhaustion, exposure, and she not much past her confinement and feeding a babby to boot. Indeed to goodness, it's amazed I am the wee one is so healthy. This poor soul will take all the care you can give, Miss Hester, and then some. I fear ‘twill be in vain." While Hester and Dr. Price discussed how best to help the sick girl, Alice and Susan were clucking and cooing over the baby, and the boys had gone to tell Mr. Fairfax about it. "Does your sister never turn anyone away?” he enquired. "Oh no, sir,” answered Jamie. “Hester has the greatest horror of people who weep and pray over the evils of the world but will do nothing to remedy them. I suppose she has influenced us all, for Alice is generally very timid, and I am surprised she dared to face the crowd." "Alice did not help when I brought home the bird with the broken wing,” pointed out Robbie. “She

screamed and ran away. Hester put a splint on it and helped feed it till it was better. She didn't help catch insects for it,” he added in a reflective tone. His elders laughed. "That would be too much to expect,” declared Mr. Fairfax. “Well, I hope this Grace is not too ill to care for her baby. It seems to me that Miss Godric has more than enough to do already." "I think she is very sick,” said Geoffrey dubiously. “She could hardly walk, and she's thin as a stick. Alice and Susan have taken over the baby, though." "You should hear them talking nonsense to it.” Robbie's voice was full of scorn. “'Who's an itsy cuddly dinkum pudding plum?'” he demonstrated in a squeak. “How's the poor thing ever going to learn to talk?" "Alice carried on that way to you when you were a baby,” Jamie informed him, “and you talk altogether too much." At that moment Hester came in, looking grave. "I thought I should find you all here,” she said, smiling with an effort. “Your room has become the centre of the house, Mr. Fairfax." "How is the young woman?” he asked. "Grace is very ill. Dr. Price holds out little hope for her. I must sit with her, so I have asked Susan to prepare dinner, as Ivy is not here today. I am sure you will all help her as much as possible, my dears, and that Mr. Fairfax will excuse any shortcomings. Alice is taking care of the baby. Geoff, she wants you to tear up an old sheet for her. I'll find one for you. Off you go now, all of you." They boys went out, their faces solemn. Robbie's piercing whisper could be heard from the landing. "Jamie! Does that mean she'd going to die?" Mr. Fairfax looked at Hester's expression and said softly: “I can only offer you my sympathy, Miss Godric. If you can think of any way in which I might assist..." "No, no. I daresay it is grossly unfair of me, but I cannot feel kindly toward the male sex just at present. Excuse me, Mr. Fairfax." Even as he swallowed the affront, he recognised a certain justice in her feelings. He himself had never corrupted innocence, but was that true morality or simply a matter of taste? Certainly many of his fellows felt no qualms about it, though most, he thought, would look after any by-blows and their mothers. Sighing, he gave her the right and hoped fervently that the advent of Grace would not permanently turn her against him. Hester returned to Grace's bedside. The girl was awake, and she begged feverishly for her baby. "He shall come in for a few minutes,” Hester soothed, “but Dr. Price advised that you should not feed him. Alice has given him some goat's milk, which he seems to like very well." Alice brought little John in, gurgling happily in her arms. He was a bonny child. It seemed that all the mother's meagre nourishment had gone straight to him. She was unable to hold him for long, and she wept when she had to give him up, starting Alice weeping in sympathy. "You shall see him whenever you wish,” promised Hester. “Now you must try to eat a little and regain

your strength." "I'll take good care of him,” assured Alice through her tears. Grace swallowed scarce a mouthful of broth and then fell asleep again. Hester sat beside her all afternoon. Dr. Price dropped in later on, and between them he and Hester persuaded their patient to drink a glass of barley water and sip a little more broth. She seemed more alert and again asked for her baby. However, the doctor was not sanguine. "Sleep and food she needs, look you,” he explained to Hester outside the chamber, “but she is too weak already to eat properly. I'd not want to raise your hopes, my dear." Throughout the long night, Hester kept vigil, seeing little change. When Ivy arrived in the morning, already fully apprized by gossip of the Godrics’ latest turn, she took over for a few hours so that Hester could catch some sleep on the sofa in the front parlour. Ivy was not at all averse to watching by a prospective deathbed, but she woke Hester after only a couple of hours. "Her's awake, Miss Hester,” she announced. “Wants ter talk to yer. Pore soul, ‘minds me o’ me auntie's husband's son-in-law by his first. Got lost on the moors, down in Devon they lived, and when they found him he weren't nothing but a skellington. Thin as a rake and too feeble to eat. Din't last but three days, he din't. A rolling stone gathers no moss,” she added, to Hester's sleepy bewilderment. Rubbing her eyes, Hester dragged herself upstairs, where Grace anxiously awaited her. "Miss Godric,” she started in a weak but determined voice, “you have been so good to me that I want to tell you everything." "Hush, my dear. Do not waste your strength. It is not necessary. "Please, listen to me!” the girl pleaded. “I am dying, I know it, and I must tell someone." "I can call the vicar,” Hester suggested. “Mr. Smythe is a dear old man." "No! I'll have nothing to do with the Church!” was the firm and bitter response. “Only listen, and you will understand." Grace was growing agitated, so Hester gave in and sat down to hear the story she had much rather have avoided. "My father is a parson,” Grace began, “at Lavenham, in Suffolk, where I grew up. My brother also took the cloth and was given a parish in Somerset. Would that he had stayed closer to home! "The living at Lavenham is a good one, and I was brought up wanting for nothing except youthful company. My father is the sort of churchman who has more belief in damnation than in salvation, and from the age of ten I was not permitted to play with my contemporaries lest I be led astray. My brother is some years older than I, and the dearest person. I am sure that his religion is very different, though I have never heard him preach. "However, it was to my father's sermons that I was forced to conform, so I reached the age of nineteen without ever speaking to a young man, let alone having any admirers. Imagine my feelings, then, when walking in the fields near my home I was overtaken by a gentleman on horseback who enquired the way to Audley End and complimented my eyes. I was covered with confusion, and that devil incarnate swore my blushes made my eyes shine the brighter.

"He disclosed his name, Sir Hubert Rathwycke, and that he was staying at Audley End for several weeks. He asked, did I often walk that way? and I, foolish maiden, smiled and blushed again and nodded. "That was how it started. Daily he rode from Audley End to meet me in the meadows, and daily I went to find him there, telling myself I did but take my usual walk. How short a time it was before he professed undying love! Any female more worldly-wise than I must have been suspicious. I pressed him to call on my father. He threw my own words back at me: that my father waxed wrathful at the most innocent signs of passion. We must present my parents with a fait accompli. How romantic it would be to flee to Gretna Green together, whispered the tempter in my ear. "I fear I did not long resist. Rathwycke is a handsome man in a dark, satanic way. I thought myself in love with him, willing even to forego my parents’ blessing for the heaven of being his wife. I met him at midnight, not three weeks from our first acquaintance, and not until sunrise did I realise that the post chaise was rushing southward, that every mile which carried me away from my home carried me likewise further from any hope of marriage. "Sir Hubert owns an isolated house in the Hertfordshire countryside, near Hemel Hempstead. Thither he bore me, and them despite my struggles and entreaties, he encompassed my ruin. The very next day, already tired of his conquest, he set me on a horse behind his servant, whom he bade take me home. "I had left a letter for my parents telling them I was to be married, yet they were not surprised to see me return unwed. The appearance of rectitude being more important to them than its actuality, they had concealed my absence and now took me back, with many reproaches and penances. All too soon I discovered I was with child, which I hid from my parents as long as possible. About the end of the sixth month, I grew too big for concealment, and what I had suffered till then was nothing to the misery I now knew. They put it about that I had gone to visit relatives and shut me up in my chamber. I know not why they did not cast me off at once. But I surmise that they thought some accident of nature might still allow the preservation of appearances. "For three months, until the birth of my child, and for two months thereafter while I was too ill to walk, I saw only an old serving-woman. Not a word had I from my mother. I wrote to my dear brother, telling him all, but I suppose the letters were destroyed, for I had no answer, not even of condemnation. At last I was somewhat recovered, and the baby proving healthy and not like to die, my God-fearing parents thrust me out of the house just after dark one night. It was a fine night; I will allow them that. "Since then I have trudged the highroads, gradually selling my small bundle for food, aiming always for Somersetshire. Could I but reach my brother and show him my poor innocent child, I cannot believe he would not have compassion on us. "It's too late now for me. I beg of you that you will write to him, John Collingwood at the vicarage in Wiveliscombe, and ask him to take care of little John, his namesake. And oh, I pray to see his face before I die!" Exhausted by her long and impassioned recitation, eyes dry and burning in her wasted face, Grace fell back against the pillows. Hester, who had listened to her history with mounting horror and indignation, moved from the chair to the edge of the bed, clasped her in her arms, and kissed her forehead. No word of sympathy was adequate. All she could do was give her fervent promise to write at once to the Vicar of Wiveliscombe. The promise given, Grace fell into a deep sleep. Her face, which had grown flushed with emotion as she spoke, was again deathly pale. She did not stir as the long hot afternoon slowly passed, but she awoke at

sunset. Dr. Price shook his head gravely and said there was nothing more he could do. She was so weak she did not even attempt to hold her baby, though she begged to see his face one last time. She lay awake all evening, with Hester holding her icy hand. Toward midnight she whispered something, and Hester bent her head to hear. "Would your ... vicar ... come to me ... and not condemn?" "I will send my brother." Hester woke Jamie and sent him quickly to St. Mary's Vicarage. Twenty minutes later he returned with Reverend Smythe, who had a greatcoat flung on over his nightshirt, his feet clad in carpet slippers, and a chequered nightcap on his head. Hester met the old cleric at the door and hurriedly told Grace's story as she led him upstairs. She left them for a few minutes while she made a cup of tea. When she returned to the chamber, he was sitting in the chair clasping Grace's hand, and the dying girl had the faintest of smiles on her face. Her eyes were closed, but she opened them briefly to cast a look full of gratitude at Hester. She died in the earliest hours of the morning, as the grey false dawn paled the eastern sky. Mr. Smythe, who had nodded off, woke then and told Hester he would make all the necessary arrangements. Looking with concern at her drawn face, he made her go and lie down. Hester slept all day. In spite of the coming and going of beadle, coffin-maker, and old women, the house was hushed. Even Robbie was subdued, and the baby, cosseted by Alice, did not cry. Jamie woke his sister at dinnertime. Though she had eaten very little for three days, her appetite was small. After a quiet meal, she went to see Mr. Fairfax. "I'm afraid I have quite neglected my other patient,” she apologised, trying to smile. “It was yesterday that you were supposed to have ventured below stairs, sir." "My dear,” he said gravely, “you cannot think that I consider my claims so highly. You have borne a heavy burden these last days." "It was ... difficult. However, I have not forgot that I was excessively rude to you on Sunday. Pray forgive me. The situation was much as I supposed, yet even his evil doing pales before the conduct of her parents. To cast her out, ill and alone, with a newborn baby—their own grandchild! I cannot bear to think of it." For the first time in all the stressful hours, Hester felt tears welling up. Ashamed, she hid her face in her hands and voiced a muffled apology. “I do beg your pardon. I do not in general act like a watering-pot." Wordless, Mr. Fairfax laid his hand on her shoulder. As if his sympathy were the last straw, Hester broke down and wept. He felt his heart swell within him and longed desperately to take her in his arms and protect her, to take care of her and carry for her all the burdens he sensed were too great for her slender strength. And he was tied to his bed. Even had he been free, he realised, this was not the time to profess a newly discovered love. She was tired and overwrought; any confession on his part would simply be another burden to her. Already he was beginning to withdraw from his recognition of his own emotions. He had admired her strength, her serenity. Now that she had lost them, what more natural than that he should want to protect her? The urge was as instinctive as a mother's urge to feed her children.

He patted her back and gave her his handkerchief. "Thank you,” she sniffed, with a watery smile. “I am so very sorry. I have no right to bring my troubles to you, nor the intention. Only I could not cry before the children. I feel better now." "Yes, I have always heard that a good cry helps. Would that we men were permitted such an outlet." "I hope you do not feel like weeping, Mr. Fairfax! I promise you shall go down tomorrow, without fail. Are you quite determined to lie in the back room? You will have no peace or privacy, you know." "If I shall not be in your way. I daresay there may be days when I shall prefer the parlour. But tell me, do you think James and Geoffrey will be able to carry me down the stairs?" "They carried you up, so unless you have eaten too much gingerbread they should manage. The chief problem I foresee is persuading Robbie that he cannot help. He is most insistent that he can carry your head, or perhaps one foot. So Geoff told him that as they are not detachable he would only get in the way. Then Alice accused Geoffrey of being coarse, and Geoff protested that he had not advocated dismembering you. At that point I left the room." "What, you did not stay to ascertain that Robbie would not take it into his head to separate my parts? Fie, fie, Miss Godric! When I wake up headless tomorrow, I shall hold you to blame." "I daresay Dr. Pierce would also consider it careless of me. I must remind you of his directions. You are not, under any circumstances, to put any weight on your leg." ''Yes, ma'am." "If it should be a great deal more painful after you have been moved, you are to confess and return to your bed for another week." "Yes, ma'am." "You must lie on the sofa and not move to a chair for at least another two weeks." "Yes, ma'am." "I only wish my brothers were half so obedient,” sighed Hester. "But perhaps I am merely wheedling you,” suggested Mr. Fairfax wickedly.

Chapter 6 Grace was buried the next day in St. Mary's churchyard. Hester, James, and Geoffrey went to the simple, sparsely attended service, Alice being too tearful to join them. "Anyway, I have to mind the baby,” she said with dignity. Afterwards, Hester wrote to the Vicar of Wiveliscombe. She assumed that he had not received a letter from his sister and told him the whole story, explaining that Grace's last wish had been that he see to the upbringing of his nephew. Nevertheless, she assured him that she would give a home to the baby if he could not. Closing with a request for a prompt response, she sealed the letter, sent Robbie to the post with it, and turned to her next task. Mr. Fairfax was expecting her. Cheerfully, she asked him if he was ready for his great adventure. "Quite ready,” he replied, “though I shall perfectly understand if you wish to postpone it until tomorrow. It is not easy to shake off the distressing impressions of such a harrowing experience as you have just passed through." "It may seem heartless, but one cannot brood over such a happening; indeed one ought not. People who brood do not notice the next person in need who chances by. If I had been still in the mopes over your accident, I'd have been unable to help Grace. Now there is no more I can do for her, so I shall make up for my unconscionable neglect of you, I hope." "Miss Alice and the boys and Ivy have taken good care of me, never fear. And I beg you will not tell Mistress Ivy, but I vow Susan's cooking is quite as good as hers. Neither compares with yours, of course. What is for luncheon?" "You will see when you are below stairs. I fear the boys will not be able to manage your weight if you eat first." "Wretch! If I am grown fat, it is entirely your fault. Pray say that you do not think I shall have to wear corsets, like Prinny." "Does he really? You are bamming me, Mr. Fairfax. I had heard the rumour but could not credit it." "You should hear him creak every time he moves, and you'd believe." "You met him then? You moved in exalted circles, sir." "Oh, the Regent is not the least exclusive,” assured Lord Alton hurriedly. “Where are my bearers, Miss Godric? They shall find me halfway down the stairs if they do not hurry!" Hester went to the door and called. “James! Geoffrey! Mr. Fairfax threatens to carry himself below!" Robbie was persuaded to be satisfied with carrying a waterglass and some books, and very shortly Mr. Fairfax was ensconced on a comfortably overstuffed, faded chintz sofa. He looked somewhat green about the gills. "Are you in great pain?” asked Hester anxiously, shooing her brothers out. “You do not look at all the thing." "I confess I do not feel in prime twig,” admitted Mr. Fairfax with a crooked grin, “but I promise I am not

yet ready to stick my spoon in the wall. My leg is not so bad. To tell the truth, I felt a little faint." "Burnt feathers! Smelling salts! Lavender water! I shall fetch—" "No, pray do not. It is past already. I've no wish to make a cake of myself." His colour was indeed a little improved, but Hester insisted on bathing his forehead with lavender water. He lay half-dreaming after the unaccustomed exertion, basking in the warmth of the fire, for it was a chilly, damp day, the first of autumn. The fresh, delicate scent pervaded the air and stilled the dizziness in his head. "Do not let it worry you,” Hester said in her gentle voice. “Recollect that you have been confined to your bed for a whole month. The weakness will not last." Overwhelmed by a wave of gratitude, he took her hand and pressed a kiss on her fingers. "My angel of mercy,” he murmured, and fell asleep. Withdrawing her hand from his clasp, Hester felt tears rising to her eyes. She had a deplorable tendency to cry recently, she thought crossly. Well, she didn't know what it was this time, for sure. She was growing as vapourish as Alice, and she had a family to take care of. She went to make lunch, feeling inexplicably low. **** Mr. Fairfax slept scarce half an hour and woke in fine fettle, very ready for luncheon. They all ate with him in the back parlour, sitting at the scratched and ink-stained table, which more often saw lesson books than the platters of cold ham and beef and bowls of fruit that were now set upon it. Mr. Fairfax, feeling now entirely one of the family, could not imagine how he had endured the isolation of the bedchamber above. "For though you all visited me often,” he declared, “now I may take part in your daily activities. When it comes to lessons, Robbie shall see what a harsh taskmaster I can be, as James already knows." James mimed terror, as Hester protested, “I was going to move lessons into the dining room if you truly wish us to take meals here with you." "I'm not afraid of him,” said Robbie stoutly, “for we go on famously together, don't we, sir?" "Do you not think I should beat you with a cane?" "No, for you cannot get up, and besides Hester would not let you, would you, Hester?" "It's all a hum,” Susan told him scornfully. “Mr. Fairfax don't wish to teach a clothhead like you." "Nor will he wish to eat with any of us if this squabbling continues,” pointed out Hester. “Geoff, I think it is coming on to rain. You'll not be working outside this afternoon?" "No, I suppose not. If you have time, I should like to show you the cottage plans Barstow's bailiff gave me. There are one or two things I don't understand." "Oh dear, I am sure you know more about it than I do. Though I'll have a look if you feel I might be able to help,” Hester consented valiantly. "Now there I might be of assistance,” put in Mr. Fairfax. “I have some experience in the matter.”

Noticing Hester's surprised look, he hastily added, “A friend of mine with a large estate was building, new cottages a few years ago, and he asked my advice. I found the subject interesting and did considerable research into modern building methods." In fact, his father had not been in his grave a year before he had begun rehousing all his tenants. He was no absentee landlord wringing every penny from neglected land, though he did leave the day-to-day running of his estate to a steward. A steward who was elderly and slowing down and ought to be training a replacement, he thought, looking speculatively at Geoffrey. Unaware of the tentative plans being made for his future, Geoff was full of gratitude for the present offer of assistance. He even helped Rob and Susan clear the table in his haste to explain his difficulties to Mr. Fairfax and obtain his views on the excellence, or otherwise, of the plans. Mr. Fairfax, favourably impressed by Geoffrey's grasp of the subject, was able to solve the problems and make several useful suggestions. They were deep in a discussion of the ways in which the lot of the rural labourer might be improved when James came in with his Greek books. Acres of plans were removed from Mr. Fairfax's legs to the table, where Geoff continued to study them, and the Greek lesson commenced, interrupted by occasional queries about damp courses and flues. Hester, dismissing objections, had moved the children's lessons into the dining room. At about four o'clock, she went to make tea. Robbie accompanied her to the kitchen, where he cut himself a huge doorstep of bread and butter and then made his escape by the back door. It was no longer raining, though the sky was grey and a chill wind blew, so Hester let him go. Not that rain would have stopped him. While the kettle boiled, Hester cut some bread. On a day like this, it was pleasant to make toast at the fireside. It always had a special smoky flavour to it, even if it did burn a bit. Sending Susan to fetch Alice, who was sewing in the baby's room, she made the tea, set everything on a tray, and carried it across the hall. Alice, the baby in her arms, was just entering the parlour with Susan on her heels. Looking past her sisters, Hester saw a welcoming light spring into Mr. Fairfax's eyes. Her suspicions were confirmed; he loved Alice. Thrusting the tray into Susan's hands, she muttered, “Strawberry jam,” and hurried back to the kitchen, where she sank onto a stool and burst into tears. Even as she wept, she told herself that she was being very silly. At his age, she pointed out to herself, he must have been in love before, and disappointment had obviously not killed him. Alice might even learn to return his regard. And if she did not, but broke his heart, why should she, Hester, be weeping for him? Anyway, it was more than likely that the welcome had been for the tea tray; after an afternoon of architecture and ancient history, surely that was the most desirable sight a man could see. Hester splashed some cold water on her face and peered at herself in the tiny square mirror nailed above the scullery sink. Her eyes were red and slightly swollen. Hastily, she chopped and fried an onion, causing new tears, added a piece of mutton and some carrots and parsnips, a bunch of parsley and a pint of stock, and set it on the fire. Then she took a pot of strawberry jam and went back to the parlour, which was by now pleasantly redolent of singed toast. "Geoff!” she said gaily, carefully not looking at Mr. Fairfax, “I vow I don't know what you do with your onions! They are the hottest I have ever cut up and make me weep monstrously!" "You will not let me tell in public what I do with them,” answered Geoff indulgently.

Susan, noting Mr. Fairfax's puzzled look, leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Manure!" Alice disdainfully affected not to hear. Hester was soon provided with hot buttered toast and a cup of tea. She found she had interrupted a disquisition by Alice on the baby's finer points, of which he apparently had many. Mr. Fairfax had been heartily bored by the subject for several minutes, but seeing that Hester did not look well and seemed disinclined for conversation, he encouraged her sister. Hester read this as yet another confirmation of love. She was gazing despondently out of the French windows at Geoff's dismal, dripping garden when Robbie appeared with his coat in a dark-stained bundle in his arms and blood streaking down his legs. Hester jumped up and threw open the door. "Robbie!” she cried. “Are you badly hurt?" "It's not me,” he replied in a shaky voice. His face was smeared with mud where he had apparently rubbed his eyes. He thrust the bundle at his sister. “Look!" Hester cautiously unwrapped the ruined jacket as the others crowded round. She flinched. "Alice, Susan, don't look,” she said quickly. “Geoff, come with me into the kitchen, please. We'll do what we can, Rob dear.” She dropped a kiss on his wet head. "It's a rabbit,” he explained importantly, his sangfroid restored now that his sister had taken over. “I was down in Mr. Jenkins's field and I heard it crying.” He shivered with remembered horror. “It was right by the hedge and its foot was in one of those wire loops and I was trying to get it out, but it was scared and it kept pulling and the wire got tighter and tighter and I didn't know what to do. There was blood all over." Alice shrieked and fled, leaving baby John on Mr. Fairfax's lap, where she had put him to demonstrate how sweetly he behaved. "There still is blood all over,” pointed out James. “You'd better go change and wash, Rob. Well done, young ‘un." "I'll rinse your clothes out,” offered Susan. “Blood stains if you don't do it right away, Ivy says." "Beat you upstairs!” cried Robbie, and they dashed out. "James,” said Mr. Fairfax in an ominous voice, “would you kindly remove this infant, at once if not sooner. Though I rather fear it is too late." Little John's removal revealed a large damp patch. James shouted with laughter and the baby wailed, while Mr. Fairfax sighed in resignation. "You had best give the child to one sister and my shirt to another,” he suggested, “if you can restrain your mirth sufficiently. And I should like a clean shirt before the third sister returns. I do not think I am unreasonably demanding?" "N-no, sir,” spluttered Jamie. “I do beg your pardon; you must be most uncomfortable, only your face ... ! I'll go at once." Hester was the first to return. Her face was very pale, and in his concern Mr. Fairfax forgot to feel embarrassed at his dishabille. She did not seem to notice his lack of a shirt and smiled tiredly at him. “I

think the poor thing will survive. I daresay it should have gone in the pot, as Geoff proposed, but after Rob rescued it, what could I do? I'd have acted likewise if I'd been brave enough, though I suppose it was some unfortunate man's dinner." "Times are hard, and men must feed their families as they can,” he answered, “but those gin snares are horrible things, I agree. I think you are fagged to death, Miss Godric. Can you not lie down for a while?" "I believe I will,” she murmured gratefully. “Dinner is cooking, and there is nothing that must be done presently. Was Robbie still distressed when last you saw him?" "Right as a trivet. He is a lad to be proud of." "Indeed, I am proud of him.” Hester smiled warmly at him. “Would you please ask one of the children to call me at seven? I shall rest in the drawing room, as little John has driven me from my chamber." In the few minutes before Jamie arrived with a clean shirt, Mr. Fairfax treasured her smile. It transformed her face and gave her, he felt, a beauty transcending her sister's. If he could conjure it forth by praising her family, then he would be lavish with his praise, which would not be difficult. He wished that his own family had been like this one that had adopted him. The next day he was tired, though Hester seemed to have recovered her accustomed energy. He almost decided to stay in bed, but Mr. Stevens had sent a message that he would call that afternoon and hoped to meet his granddaughter's guest, and he did not want to offend the old man. He told Hester he would not get up until after lunch, being a little fatigued. "You certainly should go down,” she replied, “though you must not overdo it. You will not wish to remain an invalid for the rest of your life! However, perhaps Grandpapa had best come tomorrow." "I am anxious to make his acquaintance,” he told Hester. “Besides, if I want to conquer this weakness, I must exert myself. It is extraordinary how tiring it is to allow oneself to be carried." "Your leg is not painful, is it?" "No, never a twinge. It aches, but Dr. Price warned me that it would." "This damp weather is bad for such things. You have become a rheumaticky old man and can discuss your symptoms with my grandfather.” In spite of a resolve to keep a distance, Hester found herself treating him the same as always. He was so easy to talk to. He understood her teasing, did not take offence, and teased her in return. She suddenly realised that it was the first time she had had a relationship with someone she could treat as an equal, as a genuine friend, and made up her mind to enjoy it to the full for the short time he would be there. Unexpectedly light-hearted, she smiled at him and added, “I expect he will offer you some of his liniment, but I must warn you, it smells atrociously and if you accept it, you will be ostracised." "I shall avoid the subject assiduously. What others is your grandpapa interested in?” Mr. Fairfax found himself unaccountably nervous and anxious to make a good impression. "I expect he would like to hear about your travels. He used to have goods from every part of the world in his shops, and when I was a child he'd make up stories about different countries. I'm sure he would like to know what they are really like." "His imaginary world is probably more exciting by half."

"Not if I am to judge by the tales you have told Rob. They are just Grandpapa's style, I assure you. He dearly loves a tall tale." "Wretch! Has Robbie passed them all on then?" "I fear he will be sadly disappointed when he goes to see for himself." "No, for then he will be older and will be excited by different things. I did not find my journeyings dull." **** Today's excursion was merely down a pair of stairs, but when he was once more settled on the old sofa, he was glad the trip was over. He felt weak as a kitten. However, as he boasted to Hester, he was not dizzy this time. Grandfather Stevens joined the family for luncheon and was ceremoniously introduced to Mr. Fairfax. To Hester, anxious that they should like each other, they had the air of a couple of dogs, circling warily, trying to decide whether or not to fight. To her relief, they apparently resolved on a truce, and luncheon was an amicable meal, marred only by Robbie's ghoulish description to Grandpa of the rabbit's injuries. Alice was on the point of rushing out, handkerchief pressed to white lips, when he was stopped. "It's better now, Allie,” he protested indignantly, “so there's nothing to carry on about. It ate a whole carrot this morning." "A carefully washed, scraped, and sliced one,” Hester sighed. “I should have guessed where it disappeared to." As soon as the table was cleared, everyone quietly faded away, leaving the two men confronting each other. Perceiving a martial light in the old man's eye, Mr. Fairfax felt as if he had been led into a Roman arena and abandoned there to face the lion. Mr. Stevens, never one for roundaboutation, came straight to the point. "Dessay wi’ your looks ye're a bit of a ladies’ man?” he queried. "I've had my successes,” admitted Mr. Fairfax with cautious modesty. "Well ye'll just stay away from my granddaughters, ye hear me?” The old man was fierce. "I've no designs whatever on the Misses Godric, my good man.” It was Lord Alton who replied, with aristocratic hauteur for which he was immediately sorry. "No need to take offence, young fella,” said Mr. Stevens mildly, but with no sign of obsequiousness. “Jamie's a good lad, but there's no man in the house to watch out for the girls, and a poor sort o’ grandpa I'd be if I didn't keep me eye on ‘em." "Of course, you have every right and duty, sir,” apologised Mr. Fairfax. “I beg your pardon for getting on my high ropes. I am glad to know that someone other than the curate is concerned for them." "That mealy-mouthed Pettigrew? What's he got to say to the matter?" Mr. Fairfax described his interview with the unfortunate curate, and Mr. Stevens laughed heartily. "Put him in his place all right,” he chortled. “Alice deserves better nor he, and my Hester promised her ma she'd see her come out proper. She don't expect nothing like that for herself, though,” he added wistfully. “Only time I regret what I been. But there, if I hadn't done well in business, there'd be no

chance o’ gadding about, any road. Well, I've no call to bother ye wi’ such things. Rob tells ye've been a travelling man. Have ye been to Jamaica, lad?" Rapport once established, the conversation rambled comfortably this way and that. It was a couple of hours before Mr. Stevens pulled a huge gold turnip watch from his waistcoat pocket, opened it, and regarded it with a sigh. “Hester warned me not to tire you, and here I've been forgetting ye're an invalid. I'll be on my way, young man, but first ye'll kindly tell me who ye really be." "I ... I beg your pardon, sir?” Mr. Fairfax was completely taken aback. "My Hester's not had much experience wi’ high society, but I have, and ye'll not cozen me ye're nobbut a plain mister. Ye've aristocracy writ large all over, and I'd wager a month's take ye're accustomed to sit in the House o’ Lords. What's your game, young fella-me-lad?" "None, sir. It was a mere whim. A decision made on the spur of the moment when I had scarce spoken to Miss Godric." "And your name?" "Oh, my name is David Fairfax. I did not precisely lie. Only I happen to be the Earl of Alton. I expect you will not understand, but all my life people have treated me as a peer, or at least as heir to one, and I had a fancy to see if I could make my way incognito. Remember, too, that I had just received a blow to the head! I'd not have deceived Hester—Miss Godric—had I known her then as I do now, and now I do not know how to undo my deceit. Shall you tell her, sir?" Mr. Stevens pondered. “Nay, lad,” he answered at last. “'Twould serve no purpose as I can see, and ye'll not be here forever. But my girl trusts you, and I'll not have her hurt. Ye'll make mighty sure she'll not find out." "I will, Mr. Stevens. I am truly sorry for all the trouble I am causing." "I believe ye, I believe ye, though I'm danged if I know why! Good day to ye, m'lord. Take care o’ that leg, lad.” He went off shaking his head over the foibles of the aristocracy, or possibly those of the younger generation. Lord Alton, unmasked, lay back against his pillows with his eyes closed and breathed deeply. Who would have thought the old fellow would be so perspicacious? He'd be danged himself if he knew how he had given himself away. He found himself as reluctant as ever to have Hester know of his deception. Her grandfather was right; the discovery might hurt her, and that was not to be thought of. It crossed his mind that if Alice went to town for the season, she would inevitably be enlightened and would certainly pass on the news. However, he managed to persuade himself that after a few months back in his usual milieu he would be quite uninterested in the Godrics’ feelings, and anyway, she might not go. Robbie peeped round the door and saw Mr. Fairfax's eyes open at last. Purple with suppressed excitement, he burst in. "Sir! Sir!” he shouted, “there's a letter come from Aunt Bardry, and we're all to go to London!"

Chapter 7 Dear Niece, For the sake of my poor dear Sister, I shall be happy to receive you in Holles Street in the Spring. Your Cousin Sophie will also Come Out next Season so I shall be subject to Great Expence. I understand that a Connexion of your Papa's is able to defray the Cost of your Season, so that we may hope to rig you out in tolerable Style and contrive an Eligible Match. Henrietta Bardry. "You'll not go, Alice!” The usually restrained Jamie was scarlet with fury. “The dreadful woman to speak so of Hester! I don't care if she is Mama's sister; this is outside of enough!" "Oh, Jamie, I do not wish to go!” Alice's eyes filled with tears. “She sounds so cold, not welcoming at all. I could not bear to be alone in London in such a household, with all of you so far away." "Of course you shall go,” declared Hester firmly. “It was your mama's dearest wish that you should be introduced to polite society. I am sure Lady Bardry is not unkind. I expect she was embarrassed at having to write such a letter." "And so she should be! To write to Allie instead of to you and then to address it to ‘Miss Godric’ as though you did not exist!” Jamie, once roused, was not easily mollified. “I call it the height of discourtesy, and if that is an example of polite society, I am sure I cannot guess where it came by the name." "Pray do not make me go,” wept Alice. Jamie looked at her in disgust and stalked out to find Geoff and tell him the news. "My dear, I know you will enjoy it if you will only compose yourself. And I hope we will not be so very far from you. I have not mentioned it before, for it seemed like castles in Spain, but I have been asked to rent out this house for the spring and summer at the most exorbitant rate. Of course, it is Jamie's house and his decision, but if he should like it, we will all remove to London to be near you, and then go together to the seaside in July." Robbie and Susan, who had been interested spectators of the entire scene, jumped up and down and clapped their hands. "Can we go to Portsmouth, Hester, can we?” cried Robbie. “And see the navy and all the ships and go sailing on the real sea? Oh, please say we may!" "I need a new dress for London,” pointed out Susan, pastry-cook and saint both in abeyance. “Can we go to Vauxhall Gardens and see the fireworks?" "Hush, children, hush. Nothing is settled yet, so off you go and let me talk to Alice." While Robbie went to inform Mr. Fairfax of the great treat in store, Susan first told Ivy, before running down the garden to Grandpa Stevens's cottage. Soon the whole household was discussing Lady Bardry's letter. James, still in a rage, had given Geoffrey the details of the letter and finding his sentiments on the subject entered into exactly, he was able to calm down. "Of course Hester is right,” he admitted."Alice must go. She is such a wet-goose—dripping all over, in

fact—but it is the only chance she will have to find a creditable husband. Geoff, should you like to go to London for a few months?" "Me? You mean all of us? That would be above anything great, to see all the sights—the menagerie at the Tower and the theatres and ... oh, everything." "I should like to go to the theatres,” agreed Jamie, “and to the British Museum to see Lord Elgin's marbles. Only I cannot like the idea of renting out the house to strangers. However, it falls mighty apropos, and I know Hester would prefer to be near Allie. You wouldn't believe what they have offered. We should be able easily to afford a small house and a servant in London, and have some over to help with Allie's expenses." "That rankles, doesn't it? Having Hester pay for her season? You know she wants to do it, Jamie, and I daresay you could not stop her if you tried." "I know, I know. But it was damnable of Papa to leave me in such a situation. You do not know the half of it." "That we are living on Hester's fortune?" "And that her grandfather frequently helps out. She always told me that this house was bought with the proceeds of the sale of the manor, but I know how encumbered it was, and I am certain that Grandpapa had a hand in the purchase. How much I cannot guess,” said Jamie bitterly. “I do not want so much for myself—just my books and a roof over my head—but that I should be unable to provide for my brothers and sisters!" "You could refuse to let Alice go to London. She does not wish to go." "How can I go against Hester's wishes? Besides, it was what Mama wanted, and it is my duty to see that Alice finds an eligible husband. There are none around here, you must agree. Oh, Geoff, I do not know what to do for the best!" "Should you object to consulting Mr. Fairfax?” suggested Geoffrey cautiously. “Don't chew my head off now. He's not a member of the family, but that will make it easier for him to judge impartially, and he does know us all pretty well. You must admit he's up to every rig and row, and you need not take his advice, after all." "I could never tell him I'm hanging on Hester's purse-strings!" Geoffrey cleared his throat. “I—er—I rather think he already knows. You may call me any name you choose and I will deserve it, but I let it drop, oh, an age ago,” he confessed. "Will you never learn to hold your tongue, you rattlepated, clothheaded...!” began Jamie furiously, then paused. “Well, you deserve it, Geoff; only it will make it much easier to talk to Mr. Fairfax, so perhaps I should thank you. Come on, let's go see him." Susan caught up with them as they entered the house. "Jamie, Grandpa says he'll watch the house while we are in London, so please may we go? Please?” she begged. Robbie barrelled out of the back parlour. "Jamie, when we go to London, Mr. Fairfax will take me to the Royal Dockyard to see the navy ships.

Do you want to come too?" "I haven't decided yet whether we shall all go or not,” Jamie told them repressively. “Geoff, will you keep them out of my hair while I talk to Mr. Fairfax?" Geoff bore his protesting juniors off to the kitchen, where Hester had just succeeded in persuading Alice that there was a faint possibility that she might enjoy her London visit. She herself, while determined that Alice must go to her aunt, had ambivalent feelings about taking the whole family. The labour involved in moving the entire household to furnished lodgings was by itself enough to make her quail when she remembered the difficulty of simply moving down the hill two years ago. She almost wished she had never proposed the plan to James, let alone mentioned it to the others. However, her original reasons still stood. After the desirability of being close to Alice, Jamie was at the forefront of her thoughts. He must have the chance to acquire a little town bronze before going up to Oxford, to learn how to go on in the world outside the limited society of Henley. Surely through his aunt he might meet some young gentlemen who would introduce him to the kind of life that was his birthright. Hester had no fears that he would be led astray. She had too high an opinion of his conscientiousness and sense of responsibility. And she was ignorant of the lures, snares, and pitfalls set in the way of the unwary country youth by the predators of the capital. Geoffrey, Susan, and Robbie she expected to profit more from the anticipated sojourn by the sea, though doubtless they would enjoy the sights of London. For her own pleasure she had no thought, sure that as long as her brothers and sisters were happy, she would be content anywhere from Calcutta to Botany Bay. When James approached Mr. Fairfax for counsel, that gentleman had just submitted for a quarter of an hour to a battery of questions on the London docks, the possibility of riding in a steamship on the Thames, and which ships of His Majesty's Navy were likely to be in Portsmouth or Plymouth next summer. Compared to that interrogation, a query about the right course of action for a gentleman to pursue was a restorative. "I'd like to ask your advice,” James started hesitantly. “I'm not sure where to begin." "Go ahead and open your budget,” encouraged Mr. Fairfax. The whole story flooded out. In his relief at being able to share his worries, Jamie disclosed a good deal more than he either realised or intended, and Mr. Fairfax began to understand the strain be was under with no father to guide him. Even an unsatisfactory father, such as Ralph Godric had been, would be preferable, he thought, and he resolved to do all in his power to smooth the way of this earnest, likable youth who was so ready to trust him. He turned his mind to the present problem. "I believe you should go,” he affirmed decisively, “for any number of reasons. The chief is that Alice will not be happy on her own and Hester will worry about her. And if you find yourself plump in the pocket, do not spend it on Alice's milliners, but hire another servant so that Hester has time to enjoy herself. In fact, if I were you, I should stipulate that Alice must make all her own gowns. That will keep her mind occupied for the next few months and save your sister's purse at the same time." "What a capital notion! She'll have no time to fly into alt. And of course you are right about the other things. Hester is the only one I should consider, for she takes care of all of us, and no one looks after her. Thank you, sir, you're a great gun." "I do my modest best,” replied Mr. Fairfax with a grin. “I cannot say that I have experience with such

problems, but I hope my instincts will pull you through. James, should you find yourself in difficulties of any kind in London, I wish you will bring them to me and not trouble your sister. Call it a small return for your hospitality. There, someone is knocking at the door,” he added with relief. Mr. Fairfax was appalled with the way his usually disciplined tongue was running away with him these days. What on earth had made him volunteer to take on the troubles of a schoolboy? The memory of Hester's sweet smile and gentle, competent hands rose in his mind, and with an internal sigh of resignation he realised that he would go to a great deal of effort to shield her from anxiety. A small return for her hospitality, he assured himself. As he went to the door, Jamie directed at him a look loaded with gratitude, and all at once he was happy he had made the offer. Robbie was about to knock again when James opened the door. “Hester says it's teatime and she'll bring in the tray if you two have finished con ... conspiring, I think she said. Have you? And are we going to London, Jamie?" "Yes, we'll all go if everything works out." Robbie's whoops could be heard all the way to the kitchen. **** On his third day below stairs, Mr. Fairfax was almost disappointed to be greeted by no alarums and excursions. No injured animals, no astute elders, no epistles from obnoxious aunts disturbed the peace. There was a moment fraught with possibilities when Robbie refused to see why he should have his lessons from Hester when James was allowed to study with Mr. Fairfax. And Susan shed a few tears at dinner when her first-ever plum tart emerged scorched from the oven. A felicitous domestic evening followed, but the next few days brought a constant stream of visitors, as word spread that the gentleman from London was on show. By the end of the following week, Mr. Fairfax felt he must have been displayed to the entire population of Henley. So when, as they sat at tea on Friday afternoon, a carriage stopped in the street and the front door knocker was heard, he groaned. "Susan, go and see who it is, please,” requested Hester. “I cannot imagine who would arrive in a carriage at this time." Susan returned in a few moments. "It's a parson,” she announced. “He wants to speak privately with Hester, so I put him in the drawing room. Do you suppose..." They all looked at each other with a sudden surmise. "Grace,” breathed Hester. “I'll go at once." As she entered the drawing room, a tired-looking young man in his late twenties rose from the chair where he had slumped. "Miss Godric?” he asked. “I am John Collingwood. I only recently received your letter because I have been away from home, looking for my poor sister." The sadness and pity in his voice brought tears to Hester's eyes. Stepping forward, she took both his hands.

"Grace died assured of your compassion,” she told him earnestly, “and in the expectation of forgiveness. You will wish to speak to our vicar, Mr. Smythe, I am sure, but you look so very weary, sir. Pray sit down, and I will bring you a cup of tea and tell you all I can." Geoffrey was sent to the Bull to take a room for Mr. Collingwood, and Hester remained closeted with him for a long time. At last she called Alice, who took him to see his nephew. "Your sister is a wonderful person,” he said as they climbed the stairs. “And she told me how you rescued Grace, Miss Alice. I thank you from the bottom of my heart." "It was Susan's doing, really,” disclaimed Alice, blushing rosily, “but I have been taking care of little John. He is the sweetest baby. Shall you take him with you?" "Yes, of course, if you think he is not too young to travel. Unfortunately, I am a bachelor, but I shall hire a nurse and give the child the best upbringing I am able." "I am sure you will.” Alice turned on him a glowing look that pierced the shell of his preoccupation. He suddenly noticed that he was talking to an exceptionally beautiful young woman, and the halo he had already perceived above her head did nothing to detract from this image. Hester had relinquished her chamber to Alice and the baby, and had moved in with Susan. As Mr. Collingwood followed Alice, it was perfectly obvious to him that he was entering a lady's bedchamber. It was his turn to blush. His collar felt too tight, so he ran a finger round inside it. Happily reminded of his vocation, he regained his composure, only to lose it again when the child gazed at him with Grace's huge blue eyes. The strain of his long search and two days of uninterrupted journeying caught up with him abruptly, and he wept. Alice naturally burst into tears too, and some moments later, when the baby joined in and his cries inexorably drew Alice's attention, they found they were holding each other comfortingly. Scarlet with confusion, Alice bowed her head over little John as she calmed him. Equally flustered, embarrassed, and appalled at his own behaviour, and slightly dizzy with fatigue, Mr. Collingwood did the first thing that came into his head. Bending over the chair in which Alice now sat, he said softly into the shell-like perfection of her ear: "Miss Alice, will you marry me?" Alice burst into tears again. "Oh dear,” she wailed, “Hester will say I am always falling in love, but indeed it is different this time; I know it is!" Staggered by this evidence that his own astounding sentiments were reciprocated, Mr. Collingwood ventured once more to place a consoling arm around Alice's shoulders. "My dear,” he soothed, “pray do not weep. I am taken quite by surprise at my own feelings, and it was very wrong in me to speak to you so abruptly. You must forgive me; I am fagged to death and cannot think clearly." Alice raised brimming brown eyes, quite unreddened by her tears. "You must think me very inconsiderate, sir, not to have realised that. I daresay you will see everything quite differently in the morning,” she said wistfully.

"Oh no, I would not have you think I did not mean ... But you are an angel of compassion. You spoke unthinkingly, to comfort me. You must have time to consider, to reflect. I shall not hold you to your words, have no fear. I'd best go now, my dear Miss Alice." "You will come tomorrow?" "I will come.” Mr. Collingwood kissed Alice's hand reverently and took his leave. Below stairs he found Hester, who thought him agitated merely by the sight of Grace's child. "Pray excuse me, Miss Godric,” he apologised hurriedly, “I shall retire to the inn presently. I find myself overcome by weariness." "Of course, Mr. Collingwood. You will treat this house as your home, I hope. I only wish I could offer you a chamber. You will join us for luncheon tomorrow?" "Thank you, ma'am, I ... That is, it is..." "You are too tired to talk.” Hester smiled in sympathy. “Geoff shall drive you to the inn at once; and we will see you tomorrow whenever it suits you. Good night, sir, and rest well." Hester went upstairs and found her sister rocking the baby and gazing starry-eyed into the middle distance. "Oh no, Allie, do not tell me you are in love again!” she exclaimed crossly, recognising the symptoms. “Really, you only met him half an hour ago." "I was never in love before,” stated Alice with calm certainty. “He is ... you would not understand, you have never been in love." "And I suppose he has already developed a passion for you,” Hester sighed. “There are times when I am positively glad I have no looks. Supper is ready; I've had no time to prepare a proper dinner." "I could not eat. Pray go ahead without me. I shall feed little John." Hester told the others that Alice was overwrought after the emotions of the evening, which surprised no one. She did not wish to hurt Mr. Fairfax by revealing that her sister had fallen in love with a gentleman with whom she was scarce acquainted. Mr. Collingwood might be an amiable and principled young man, but it was incomprehensible to her that Alice could prefer him to Mr. Fairfax. In the morning she underwent the expected difficult interview. Never before had it occurred so soon after the enamoured suitor had set eyes on Alice. "Mr. Collingwood,” she protested, “my sister is truly beautiful and has taken excellent care of your nephew, but you cannot consider that a sound basis for marriage. You do not know her at all. I must tell you that Alice has excessive sensibilities, and her nerves are easily overset." "The sweetest sensitivity! I realise, Miss Godric, that this must seem very sudden to you. Indeed, I am myself amazed. To tell the truth, I was wont always to scoff at tales of love at first sight. Now I know better." "I hate to disillusion you, but Allie is quite used to falling in love at first sight. I have lost count of the number of times she has done so." "I do understand, ma'am. She is very young. You must not think that I intend to rush her into a decision. I

shall not approach her again upon the subject of matrimony until you and she are both satisfied that our mutual affection will endure." "I will be open with you, Mr. Collingwood. You see us in straitened circumstances, but Alice comes of excellent parentage and may look higher than a country clergyman for a husband. I hope you will not think me high in the instep. I promised my stepmother that she should have her season in London and a chance at making a creditable match. You look surprised. You have not had enough conversation with Alice even to know that I am her half sister, or that she is to spend next spring in town with her aunt, Lady Bardry." "You are right,” acknowledged the young vicar humbly. “I know nothing of your family save that you are kind and charitable. My thoughts should be on Grace and her child, and I have succumbed to the first real temptation I have ever met." "Pray do not judge yourself harshly, sir. Alice's appearance has turned many heads, and I've no doubt yours will not be the last. I expect the spell will vanish as soon as you return to the West Country with little John." "I do not think so. I cannot believe it! You will not forbid me to see her?" "No, indeed! I have no right to resort to such strict measures, and besides, it would be the surest way to confirm you as a romantic hero in Alice's eyes. She is addicted to romantic novels, you know. No, you may see her when you will, and I shall rely on time to do its work. You do not think I have any personal prejudice against you, I hope,” added Hester pleadingly. “I must do my duty to my stepmother. She was so very good to me, and Jamie is still over-young for such tasks. I find these interviews excessively painful." Mr. Collingwood found himself pitying where he had thought to be worthy of pity. It dawned on him that Hester herself was over-young to be taking on such responsibilities, and the admiration and gratitude he had felt toward her on account of her care for his sister returned redoubled. "Your attention to duty is highly praiseworthy,” he said gravely, if somewhat ponderously, and taking both the hands that were stretched toward him in an entreaty for understanding, he raised one to his lips just as Robbie burst into the drawing room. "Hester, may I take my rabbit into the parlour? Mr. Fairfax wants to see it, and Jamie said you would not like it." "Robbie, I've told you a hundred times to knock before you enter. You may fetch the rabbit from the kitchen, but be very gentle with it and take it back in twenty minutes without fail. Mr. Collingwood, I expect you will want to see the baby. I believe Alice is with him now." Throwing her a look of gratitude, the young vicar left, and Hester made for the kitchen, where Susan was immersed in preparations for luncheon. Robbie went off in triumph to the back parlour. "Hester says I can, so there,” he informed Jamie, and added, “Mr. Collingwood was kissing her." "What!” Jamie and Geoff both jumped to their feet. “Is she very distressed?” asked Jamie anxiously. "No, she just said, ‘Robbie, I've told you a hundred times to knock before you enter.’ That makes a hundred and one, but she always says it, so I don't think she is keeping count properly. I'm going to get my rabbit." Jamie and Geoff glanced at each other with mingled exasperation and dismay, and then turned as one to

Mr. Fairfax, who was looking furious. "The popinjay!” he exploded. “I shall call him out!" "You can't do that,” pointed out Geoffrey. “You can't stand, and he is a clergyman." "And if Hester did not object, what can I do?” queried Jamie helplessly. “I am not her father." They all looked at each other, nonplussed. Robbie, never one to take his time, bounced in with the rabbit in his arms. "Hester's making lunch,” he announced. “We're having grilled trout for special, ‘cos Mr. Collingwood is here. Look, sir, here's my rabbit. It's almost better." Admirably concealing his agitation at the continuous stream of artless revelations, Mr. Fairfax duly examined the creature. "Does it not have a name?” he asked. "I don't know if it's a boy or a girl." "Call it Fricassee,” suggested Geoffrey callously. “Then it doesn't matter which it is." Robbie ignored him. "I know!” he exclaimed. “It's hurt its leg like you, sir, so I should call if after you. Fairfax is a good name for a rabbit." "Don't you think that might prove confusing?” protested Mr. Fairfax. “Suppose someone wants me and calls out and the rabbit comes running. How about Homer? That's my middle name, if you really insist on naming it after me." "All right,” agreed Robbie obligingly. “Allie, come and see Homer." Alice and Mr. Collingwood were entering the room. Reassured of his devotion, Alice had been undismayed by his description of the interview with Hester. Only the thought that he must soon return to his parish, taking little John with him, remained to disturb her, and he had promised that even if he could not see her sooner, he would find business in London the following spring. In her happiness, she was willing to allow for her small brother's idiosyncrasies with regard to animals. In fact, the rabbit looked delightfully soft and cuddly, and she began to stroke it. "Better not, Allie,” warned Geoff wickedly. “I'll wager the beast is full of fleas.” With a shriek, Alice fled to the kitchen to protest tearfully to Hester, leaving doors flung open in her wake. Skipper, a mongrel of indeterminate parentage, had been allowed into the kitchen in the rabbit's absence, and he joyfully abandoned his dish of scraps to seize the chance of exploring the house, an ambition of long standing. Dashing through the kitchen door, he knocked the feet from under Mr. Collingwood, who was diffidently following his beloved to comfort her. A most unchurchmanlike oath sprang to his lips, to be hurriedly swallowed as the Misses Godric, three strong, turned to him with apologies and assistance. Undeterred by the collision, Skip got up speed crossing the hallway and entered the parlour at a fair pace. Overjoyed to find three of his favourite people, he bounced at and licked first Geoffrey, then James, then Rob. The formalities accomplished, he turned his attention to the stranger in their midst and,

tail wagging cheerfully, set himself to drive off the intruder with a volley of ear shattering barks. This was altogether too much for the unfortunate rabbit, who had been cowering in Mr. Fairfax's arms. Hampered by the splint on his leg, Homer leaped for the open doorway. Skipper at last became aware of the presence of his preferred—until now unattainable—prey, and his voice rose three octaves to a hunting yip as he shot after Homer. Robbie dived for the rabbit. Geoff dived for the dog. All four reached the doorway just as Mr. Collingwood, dusted off and escorted by a solicitous Alice, arrived from the opposite direction. This time he landed on top of everyone but Homer, who managed to make his escape through the kitchen and out of the back door. Gradually the tangle of bodies was sorted out. Skip emerged unscathed from the bottom of the heap and was at once tied up outside by Jamie. Mr. Fairfax's sides were so sore from laughing he could barely eat his luncheon. "It was better even than the frog,” he confided to Hester later, when Mr. Collingwood had retired to his inn to recover. “I wish you had seen it. The crowning point was when Gumby, who had been watching disdainfully from atop the tallboy, descended in his usual haughty and dignified way and sniffed contemptuously as he left the room." "I'm only glad no one was hurt,” said Hester soberly. “What Mr. Collingwood must think of us!" As for Homer, he was later found in the vegetable garden, busily demolishing Geoff's lettuces.

Chapter 8 Mr. Collingwood left the following Wednesday, taking the baby with him. Alice was very subdued for several days, which was generally assumed to be due to the loss of her nursling. She soon cheered up when Hester sent for the latest issues of Lady's Magazine, La Belle Assemblée, and Repository of Arts. After spending hours poring over fashion plates, she spent several more at the draper's, to Mr. Green's delight, poring over fabrics, ribbons, laces, and spangles. The creation of a dazzling London wardrobe was soon underway. Hester was also out of sorts for a while. Mr. Collingwood's departure reminded her that Mr. Fairfax would soon be leaving. It was nearly seven weeks since his accident, though it seemed like forever, and Dr. Price had spoken of three months’ rest for his leg. Already October had come; next month he would return to his usual life and soon forget her. And her family, she added quickly. She had sensed a certain reserve in his manner toward her during the past few days and was sure he was also thinking of his departure and looking forward to it. He must have noticed Alice's infatuation with Mr. Collingwood and been hurt by it, as she had feared, and now he only wanted to leave the cause of his pain behind him. Mr. Fairfax's thoughts were running on quite different lines. Prejudiced by Robbie's disclosure, he noticed nothing between Alice and her suitor, only that Hester seemed to spend a lot of time with the young vicar, as in fact she did—to keep him out of Alice's pocket; Hester's depression after Mr. Collingwood returned to Somerset seemed a confirmation of his suspicions, and neither James nor Geoffrey had any comfort for him. They accepted that Hester had developed a tendre for Grace's brother, thought him unworthy of her, and hoped that time and absence would bring her to her senses. In the meantime, though, Mr. Fairfax found himself unable to treat her in his usual unreserved fashion. Jealousy was out of the question, of course. He was merely being circumspect. It was not in Hester's nature to be in the megrims for long. For one thing, she was too busy to dwell on her troubles. Then a period of glorious weather set in. The sun rose red through mists over the river with a nip of frost in the air, sparkling on leaves and grass. By midday the clearest of blue skies and a delicious warmth called everyone out of doors. Regretfully leaving Mr. Fairfax behind, with promises of pies and jellies to console him, the Godrics went blackberrying. Grandfather Stevens came to keep him company, a jug of ale in his hand. In the weeks since their confrontation, the two men had come to entertain considerable respect for each other. Mr. Fairfax enjoyed the freedom of not having to watch his words, and found the old fellow's shrewdness and concern for his grandchildren—real and adopted—admirable. Mr. Stevens relished equally tales of travel and of society life, approved his lordship's Whiggish politics, and could not avoid a scarce-acknowledged hope that Lord Alton might prove to be Hester's entree into the Fashionable World. No hint of toad-eating on the one hand or of arrogance on the other marred the relationship, and they played endless games of draughts, very well satisfied with each other. Mistress Ivy provided a nuncheon at noon, and the talk turned inevitably to food. 'Now this be what I call a good solid meal,” declared Mr. Stevens, biting into a pasty. “Plain English mutton's good enough for me; no dressing it up wi’ they sauces and fal-lals as Hester do set such store by." "There's nothing to beat a fine roast,” Mr. Fairfax agreed, “but Miss Godric's cooking is the equal of Carème, the Regent's chef. Given the resources, I am sure she could produce a banquet such as I

attended at the Pavilion in Brighton in January. Thought to tell the truth, it was an inexcusable display, with half the population starving. Thirty-six entrees, from filets de volaille à la maréchale to pigeons à la Mirepoix financière, and countless side dishes. And of course wine and port and brandy by the gallon." "I'm not above a drop o’ brandy after a good meal myself,” conceded the old man. “Only good thing to come out of France." "How can you say so, sir, after hearing Miss Alice rave over the latest styles from Paris?" Mr. Stevens snorted. “Lost sight o’ their waistlines, from what I seen, and they skimpy skirts, straight up and down wi’ no hoop, and never a trace o’ wig nor powder. Indecent, I calls it." "There's no arguing with fashion. When you see Miss Alice in her new gowns, you will be reconciled, I'm sure." "Our Allie'd made an old potato sack look good. My Hester, now she'd disappear in they French gowns, skinny as she be." "Oh no, sir, I disagree. You cannot call her skinny. Perhaps you are thinking of her when she was a child. The simpler styles of the last few years suit her to perfection.'' Mr. Stevens regarded his lordship in an appraising silence. “Ah well,” he said at last, enigmatically. “Have an apple, m'lord." The back parlour, facing east, grew dark early and Ivy had already lit candles when merry voices were heard approaching the back door. Moments later, Hester appeared at the French window, a basket heaped with glossy berries on each arm. Her grey gown was stained with purple, her hair was tangled, an unnoticed scratch ran down one cheek, and she was laughing. Mr. Fairfax's breath caught in his throat, and his heart leaped within him. "A good harvest?” he asked, with a suddenly dry throat, failing to note Mr. Stevens's speculative gaze upon him. Indigestion, he told himself. Ivy's cooking. "Yes indeed! I brought these to show you. The children have each taken two baskets to the kitchen, though I think more are in Rob's stomach than in his baskets. Grandpapa, you shall have some pots of bramble jelly tomorrow, and Susan will make you a pie. Will you have a cup of tea with us now?" Mr. Stevens said he must be on his way and would see the children on the way out. "Might I have a bowl of blackberries and, cream with my tea?” ventured Mr. Fairfax, his outward calm restored. “My nurse would never let me eat them uncooked, so I developed a passion for them." "Two bowls—three!” Hester promised gaily. “The more you eat, the less I have to bottle. It was such a beautiful day; we were so sorry you could not come." "Not long now. Dr. Price will permit me a few steps on crutches at the end of the week.” Mr. Fairfax found himself suppressing a strong desire to offer his assistance in cleaning Hester's scratched cheek. Or he would have been happy to kiss it better if that was needed. Appalled by this train of thought, he fell silent, and Hester, thinking he was contemplating the joy of restored mobility, left him. No longer could Mr. Fairfax deny to himself that he was falling in love. Admiration and protectiveness could be dismissed, but add to them a longing to take her in his arms and kiss her thoroughly, and the

diagnosis was clear. His immediate reaction was to fight it, and there was no lack of ammunition. For a start, he had only to consider her present appearance. No lady with any claim to gentility would show herself in an old, torn, stained dress with her hair flying every which way. The fact that she looked adorable was beside the point; she obviously had no idea of how to go on in society. That led to his next point: her grandfather. He himself might be able to dismiss that worthy's past, but society would never forgive him for foisting a shopkeeper's brat on it as his countess, not to mention his family's legitimate objections. He shuddered to think of Ariadne's reaction, and there was an assortment of uncles, aunts, and cousins whom he rarely saw but who would undoubtedly rebel at being expected to give precedence to a female with such low connexions. God forbid anyone should ever find out that she had cooked for her family for years. That family was another obstacle. It was inconceivable that Hester should abandon her brothers and sisters, yet how could he be expected to take on the upbringing of five youngsters before he even had a chance to set up his own nursery? He was more than willing to lend a hand, but to take full responsibility was a horse of a different colour. And, he added as an afterthought, she was not even beautiful. Had she possessed Alice's looks, the ton might have smiled slyly, winked and forgiven. They would never understand how he could betray his own rank for a dab of a girl like Hester. In any case, as he had almost forgotten, she had some sort of understanding with John Collingwood. The fact that he could marshal so many arguments against his love persuaded him that his emotions were not deeply committed. He had caught himself in time, and now that he was aware of the danger, he would be on his guard. Absence, of course, would be the best defence. He realised that if he were prepared to acknowledge hordes of servants able to spare him every least exertion, he could leave at any moment. The reasons for his reluctance to pursue that course were the same as ever. If Hester found out that he had been deceiving her all these weeks, she might turn from him in distrust. That might be desirable in view of his determination to detach himself from her, but he could not regard the prospect with equanimity. Besides, he had promised Mr. Stevens to keep his secret as long as possible. So he must stay here for another month. He must rely on his return to society to cure him of his infatuation. Perhaps he had better look about him seriously for a wife, a lady of impeccable lineage, of undeniable beauty, and with all the sophistication and countenance that Hester so noticeably lacked. He thought of her dishevelled appearance a mere few minutes ago, and a tender, reminiscent smile crept onto his face as he remembered her glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes. Before the vision could undermine his determination, the tea tray arrived. He did not have to face Hester, who had gone to change and tidy herself, and the others were lively enough to cover any reticence on his part. The rest of the week seemed endless. Unable to avoid Hester except by staying in his chamber, which would have worried her and caused unwanted speculation, he did his best to look at and speak to her as little as possible. Inevitably, his troubled gaze rested often on Alice, and soon nothing could have persuaded Hester that he was not in love with her sister. To assuage his unrequited pangs, she redoubled her kindness and attentiveness to all his needs, and he soon realised how impossible it was to hold himself aloof. He must just hope that time would undo all the damage the next few weeks might inflict upon his already wounded heart. On Friday morning, Dr. Price arrived with a newly carved pair of crutches. Inexorably, he dismissed all

but his patient and Geoffrey from the back parlour. James retired to his books, and Hester sent Alice and the children into town to make a few purchases. She tried to busy herself with the preparation of a celebratory luncheon, but at frequent intervals she found herself staring with painful expectancy at the closed parlour door and straining her ears to hear the murmur from within. Dr. Price had not mentioned the possibility of a limp since the first day, but she could not dismiss it from her thoughts. She dreaded what a disability of that sort might do to a handsome, athletic young man, and all Ivy's horror stories returned to torment her, of lads crippled in the wars who had lost sweethearts and livelihood and all hope. By the time the door opened, she hardly dared approach. Geoff called her. "Hester! Come quickly. Mr. Fairfax wants you to see the result of your nursing before he sits down." He was standing by the couch, a little pale but with a triumphant grin on his face. "I took three steps,” he boasted, “though I confess I have by no means yet mastered these instruments of torture. Without Geoff s aid, I'd have measured my length more than once." Looking at him standing there, tall and proud, Hester was suddenly shy. The invalid she had cosseted and scolded had vanished, and in his place was a stranger whose magnificent physique and noble bearing were unimpaired by the crutches he leaned on. "Congratulations, sir,” she murmured with downcast eyes. Sensing her withdrawal, he put out his hand toward her. A crutch slipped, and he sat down suddenly. Starting forward anxiously, Hester became aware of his pallor and the lines of exhaustion around his mouth. "Two steps too many,” she commented tartly. “Geoffrey, help Mr. Fairfax lie down. You have quite worn him out, I see, between you.” She turned to Dr. Price. "Ye'll not be disputing my treatments, I trust, Miss Hester?” he queried with mock belligerence, a twinkle in his eyes. “I see I'll be having to explain myself to you. First, look you, the poor lad has a sense of achievement and progress that will help his recovery. And second, he knows his limitations and will not be trying to gad about before he's ready. He's tired now, but he'll recover soon enough, I'll warrant you, and ye'll have a hard time keeping him down." "Not at all, sir,” contradicted Mr. Fairfax cheerfully. “I obey Miss Godric in all things.” Already the colour was returning to his face. "After an argument,” Hester added. “Dr. Price, you had best leave precise instructions with me, for otherwise I foresee endless disputes. If you are finished here, perhaps you would come into the kitchen for a glass of ale before you go. Mr. Fairfax, can I bring you something?" "A glass of ale would be delightful, ma'am, if it is permitted,” teased the gentleman, apparently quite recovered. "If you are good,” promised Hester. Dr. Price was unable to reassure Hester as to whether Mr. Fairfax would regain full strength in his leg. "The bones have knit straight,” he told her. “That's a good start, Miss Hester bach, but we'll not know for sure till he's able to walk without aid. And even then, time and exercise might cure any lingering weakness. I do not believe the bones have shrunk, which is most to be feared. He's a fine, healthy

gentleman. Make sure he walks daily and does not overstrain himself, and do not worry, my dear." In a very few days, Mr. Fairfax was able to take a turn about the room unassisted, and the end of the month saw him discard one crutch. On All Hallows’ Eve, he bobbed for apples with the children, and then sent Alice into hysterics when he appeared unexpectedly in a sheet, thumping his stick, rattling Skipper's chain, and moaning horrendously. Hester thought him curiously unconcerned at Alice's fright, but she dismissed it as one of the inexplicable facets of the male sex. Mr. Fairfax was looking forward to leaving the house for the first time to see the Guy Fawkes bonfire in the river meadows. For a week both town and farm children had been collecting wood and brush, and the huge pile could be seen over the hedgerows from the boys’ bedchamber. However, on the second day of November clouds blew in from the west, October's crisp sunshine vanished, and before midday the skies opened and rain fell in torrents. Tarpaulins were hurriedly spread over the heap of firewood, but knowledgeable farmers shook their heads and muttered: "It be set in for sure ... Won't see sun agin afore middle o’ month ... Hear tell as how it's bin rainin’ like this over to Oxford nigh on a week..." Undismayed, children continued to beg pennies for the guy. When the downpour ceased at noon on the fifth, they were ready, and a magnificent creation appeared, miraculously finding its way to the very top of the bonfire. No one knew for sure who had made it, and no one mentioned the fact out loud, but it bore a striking resemblance to the Prince Regent, his corpulence dressed in tattered purple and lavishly adorned with tarnished tinsel finery. Since the suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act, men had been jailed for less. Better to pretend one had not noticed. The clouds remained threatening, but no rain fell. At five o'clock crowds began to gather, in a festive mood. Peddlers were selling parkin and gilt sweetmeats, and swarms of boys poked potatoes into the bottom of the woodpile, to be retrieved, hot and delicious, the next morning. Geoff had borrowed a gig, to which he harnessed Mr. Fairfax's resty pair. Mr. Fairfax felt sure he could walk the short distance to the merrymaking, but Hester overruled him, so he was helped in, and joined by Alice, who wished to observe the scene from a safe distance. Hester insisted on walking, to keep an eye on Rob and Susan. She made them promise to stay close beside her. They reached the field just as a flaming torch was thrust to the base of the bonfire. It sputtered a bit, then caught, and flames soon flared up the dry wood in the centre. Mr. Fairfax, eager to see the guy before it charred, begged Jamie's assistance and approached the fire. Geoff, to his disgust, was left guarding both the gig and Alice, who, seconded by Mr. Green, refused to move. The huge bonfire roared and hissed, and the crowd gradually moved back, faces scorched. Suddenly the middle collapsed, Prinny dived to his fiery doom, and cheers and catcalls rose. Sparks were flying in all directions as the breeze eddied and veered. Susan pulled her hand from Hester's and clapped it to her face. "Hester, it burned me!” she cried. Anxiously, Hester examined her sister's forehead. There was no mark, and the pain had already subsided, but she decided it was time to leave. Parts of the crowd were growing rowdy, and groups of the more respectable citizens were picking their way homeward. They reached the gig without incident, and Geoff set Susan beside Alice. Hester turned to help Robbie.

There was no sign of him. "Take the girls home at once,” she instructed Geoff. “I'll find Rob and walk him back. I see Jamie and Mr. Fairfax over there. I expect they have seen him." "Shall I come back for Mr. Fairfax?” asked Geoff. "Stay with Alice and Susan till I get home, then you can come back to fetch him.” She turned and hurried away, and the gig moved off. Neither James nor Mr. Fairfax had seen Rob recently. "I'll help you look,” offered Jamie, “and tan his hide when I catch him, the little devil. Can you manage on your own for a few minutes, sir?" "Of course. I am in fine fettle and quite ready to throw away my crutch and join the hunt." "Pray do not,” begged Hester, “for then I should have two to worry about." "I shall await you at this spot,” he promised. They had scarcely left him when a cry arose above the general hubbub. "The river's rising! The Thames is in flood!" There was a sudden silence, followed by complete chaos. Half the crowd swirled around, searching for missing relatives, friends, sweethearts. The other half stampeded for the only gap in the hedge on the townward side of the meadow. Shouts and screams rose above the crackle of the bonfire, whose flickering reddish light turned the scene into a vision of Hell. Mr. Fairfax climbed atop the stump he had been seated on and tried to see the Godrics. On the far side of the field, firelight glinted on water where no water should be. The towpath was already submerged and, as he watched in horror, the river, meeting no resistance, poured over its banks and across the grass. Before he could move, the bonfire was being dispersed by the floodwaters and the last feeble light was nearly extinguished. A hand grasped his sleeve. "I have Robbie, sir,” shouted Jamie, “and Hester is coming. I can't help you." James was knee-deep in black water, and Robbie hung around his neck, his eyes alive with excitement. Beyond them Hester staggered, weighed down by her wet skirts, her white face standing out in the near darkness. "Take Rob home,” snapped out Mr. Fairfax as he scrambled down from his perch. “We'll manage.” His abandoned crutch floated away unnoticed. “Hester!” he called desperately as the last burning brand went out, plunging the meadow into night. Currents swirled around his legs as he fought his way toward her. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he saw her close beside him. She was too exhausted to protest when he picked her up and holding her close in his arms, turned to make for the gate. His heart singing, he strode through the icy water as if it were an open road. Hester clung to him trustfully, her head against his shoulder. For a timeless moment, they were alone, no thought of danger intruding; then willing hands urged them through the gate, and cheerful voices bade them hurry home and dry off. "Think that be all now, Ted?” queried one.

"Din't see no more, afore light went,” grunted Ted. "Best wait a bit,” suggested another. “Here come Willy wi’ another torch." The lane was high and dry. "Put me down, pray,” said Hester. “There's no water here; I can walk. Think of your leg." "How can you say there is no water when you are dripping all over me?” Mr. Fairfax smiled down at her teasingly. “My leg is quite at your service, ma'am.” Ignoring her fading protests, he carried her home.

Chapter 9 Dr. Price was kept busy the next day. As always after the celebration of Guy Fawkes, there was a stream of small boys with burns, to which this year were added any number of bruises, cuts, twisted ankles, chills, and fevers. There were no serious injuries, however. He found a moment to drop in on the Godrics, though they had not sent for him. Several patients had reported seeing Mr. Fairfax on his feet, and he was anxious to see what effect the exertion had had on the injured leg. None of the Godrics were any the worse for the alarms of the evening, and Mr. Fairfax had offered his remaining crutch to Geoffrey as the foundation for a scarecrow. He paced up and down the parlour to demonstrate his total recovery to the physician. "You see, Doctor, I have been an obedient patient, and I have my reward. And you shall have yours as soon as I am returned home and can set my affairs in order. No London bonesetter could have done a better job. I thank you with all my heart." "Indeed to goodness, lad, I do my best and it's a pleasure to see a leg so nicely knit. I see no reason why you should not be on your way. Ye'll not ride nor drive yourself for a sennight though. I expect ye've someone can fetch you, or the mail runs daily. May you arrive safely this time!" Mr. Fairfax was eager to be gone. He had awakened at intervals throughout the night, teased by the fading remnants of dreams in which Hester always eluded his questing hands as he sought to rescue her from indistinct, nameless perils. Another week in her company would destroy his resolve. Away from her constant presence, he would surely regain his objectivity, and she would become a pleasant memory, a friend to whom he would always be grateful, and whom he would greet with a casual welcome when and if they met in town. First thing in the morning, he wrote to Mr. Rugby. He would need Jerry to drive his curricle home, and, mindful of the long time rivalry between his two faithful servitors, he decided Southwell should accompany him. He would hire a chaise; it would never do to have his groom and valet arrive in his own travelling carriage with his coat of arms emblazoned on the doors in heraldic splendour. Two manservants would not give away his secret, and no mention need be made of a steward, two butlers, five or six footmen, a chef and various scullery boys, countless undergrooms and gardeners, a pair of housekeepers, and innumerable maids. Henley was less than two-score miles from London, and Mr. Fairfax thought he should be able to leave by Saturday, though today was Thursday. Rob was dispatched with the letter before breakfast, so Barney would receive it the same day. His thoughts were already somewhat detached from his surroundings as he wondered which of his friends he might find in town, what had been going on in Hampshire during his absence, whether he would find himself fit enough to hunt after his long convalescence. At breakfast he announced his imminent departure. There was a shocked silence, then bedlam. “You can't sir; I haven't rowed you on the river yet,” protested Rob. "Must you go already?” asked Jamie wistfully. “I know you have been away from home a long time, but —" 'Shall you drive the curricle?” interrupted Geoffrey. “I'll see Fancy and Checkmate are well fed up and the carriage swept out."

"I shall make some gingerbread for you to eat on the journey,” decided Susan. "The house will seem horridly empty when you are gone,” murmured Alice, her eyes filled with tears. Hester sat silent, her mind a blank. The talk turned to the Godrics’ coming visit to the metropolis, and only Hester noticed that Mr. Fairfax made no promises to renew his acquaintance. That afternoon, Jamie had his last Greek lesson. Afterwards, Mr. Fairfax gave him the address of Rugby, Rugby, Jones, and Rugby, and asked him to inform Mr. Barnabas Rugby when the family arrived in London. "James,” he continued, “I hope you will understand how impossible I find it to express my gratitude for your hospitality these three months. I can find adequate words neither in English nor in Greek." "'It is nothing,” disclaimed Jamie hurriedly, blushing. “Why, you know that Hester would have taken you in if you had been a dog with a thorn in its paw. I beg your pardon—that is not very flattering—but you know what I mean.'' "I do indeed. She is the epitome of compassion. Take good care of her." "I shall try, sir. If only ... no, it's no use wishing. I'll do my best." "Of that I am sure. Now I must go and make my adieux to Mr. Stevens. If I leave it to the last moment, something is bound to come up to prevent me." Mr. Stevens had already heard the news from Susan. "Well, my lad,” he growled, “so ye're all set to be off." "Yes, sir. I expect to leave on Saturday morning. I have no excuse to linger now that my leg is healed." "Ye'll be glad to get back to your friends, I'll warrant. ‘Tis hard on a young man to be cooped up wi’ women and childer." "I've not felt it so. I shall be leaving new friends as well as returning to old acquaintances. I am sorry to leave, but I cannot trespass any longer on your granddaughter's generosity, and my estates will be in need of my presence. I've not been absent so long before." "We'll miss ye, lad, there's no doubt, but birds of a feather must flock together, as Mistress Ivy would say. Speaking of which, I dessay she's been telling fearsome tales of drowning all day?' "How right you are! I never should have dreamed one person could have so many relatives die a watery death." "It's my belief she makes up half on ‘em, the old misery. Howsumdever, I've to thank ye for pulling our Hester from the river yesternight, by what I hear." "Merely an excuse to discard my crutch,” a slightly flushed Mr. Fairfax assured him. “I expect she would have managed quite well without me." "That been't what I hear, but let that lie. I've been wondering if you'll be seeing the family in London." Mr. Fairfax's flush become more pronounced.

"If I am in town, I expect I shall be unable to avoid meeting Miss Alice in society. I can hardly cut her dead, and you cannot wish me to ignore the presence of the others." "Nay, lad. ‘Tis bound to come out one way or t'other. Happen it'll not matter to Hester after a few months." "I'll not force my company upon them. If they do not wish to see me, so be it. I am in their debt, not they in mine." The old man sighed. “Aye. I can see ye both standing on your dignity till the end o’ time. Ah well! A last game o’ draughts, m'lord?" When Mr. Fairfax returned to the house after a game and a mug of ale, he found that his departure was no longer the sole subject of conversation. Rumours were flying that the Princess Charlotte had been brought to bed of a stillborn son and had died some hours later. "And the Regent off shooting wi’ them Hertfords, and the good Queen away to Bath to take the waters,” reported Ivy. “All alone she were, the pore dear, wi’ that furriner as they married her to." "When was this?” demanded Mr. Fairfax. "Last night, sir, as me cousin Jack's wife's nephew Bill do tell. He were at the White Hart when the stage come in. There were a fella on it as had spoke to a woman what knows one o’ the housemaids at Claremont. A crying shame, I calls it." Mr. Fairfax sat down at the kitchen table. "The heir to the throne dead,” he murmured thoughtfully. “And Prinny's brothers with not a legitimate child between them.” He sat for a few minutes in a brown study, unaware of the discussion around him. "Who is the heir now, sir?” enquired Jamie. “The Duke of York." "Yes, the arch-Tory with the wife who prefers dogs to people. It is most fortunate that I am able to return to the capital. There will undoubtedly be questions in the ... well, never mind. Geoffrey, might I have a word with you?" "Yes, sir, of course. Do you want to come and look over Fancy and Checkmate?" As they approached the shed for which the chestnuts had exchanged their commodious stables during the past three months, Mr. Fairfax pondered how to broach the delicate subject before him. The horses nuzzled up to him, and Geoff looked at him enquiringly. "My servants will be bringing me some money,” he began abruptly. After all, he had chosen Geoff because of his straightforward nature. “I shall give you a sum to be conveyed to your brother and sister after my departure. My prolonged stay has certainly been a drain on their resources, but I do not expect them to admit as much, and rather than becoming involved in a dispute on the subject, I shall entrust the money to you." "What makes you think I will accept it if they would not?” cried Geoff hotly. “Just because—" "Think a minute, Geoffrey. I do not mean to impugn your honour, nor your generosity, but the expense has not fallen upon your shoulders, and I hope you have enough sense to bend a little and do this for your sister's sake."

"Oh, very well, though I daresay they will both be ready to comb my hair with a joint-stool. I cannot promise that they will accept it just because you are not here to take it back." "Do your best; that is all I can ask. I do not wish her to think of it as a payment; it is the farewell gesture of a grateful friend. I assure you I can well afford it." "You are pretty rich, aren't you, sir? I mean, anyone who knew horses could see you must have paid a pretty penny for Fancy and Checkmate, and the curricle is bang up to the knocker. I've cleaned it up as well as I can." Mr. Fairfax managed to turn the conversation into a discussion of the contrasting requirements of riding versus carriage horses. By the time they returned to the house, Geoffrey was quite in charity with him again. Hester was very silent and wan that evening. Mr. Fairfax was afraid she might be coming down with a chill after her adventures at the river. In spite of his anxiety on her behalf and his reluctance to leave the Godrics, he found himself looking forward to his departure. Three months of inaction and confinement were too much for any man used, as he was, to be busy with the affairs of his own estate and the nation, used to a wide circle of acquaintances and a lively social life. In the end, his concern over Hester's lack of spirits made him the more ready to leave. His campaign against his feelings for her had been dealt a crushing setback by the dramatic events of the previous night. He was prepared to admit his cowardice to himself, and to turn tail and run. Another few days in her company might deliver the final blow to his resistance. He was glad when Jerry and Southwell arrived on the Oxford mail early the next day, several hours sooner than expected. Having no idea how to take his leave of Hester, he spared himself that agony. By one o'clock a carriage had been hired, his minimal luggage was stowed, and a leather bag containing fifty sovereigns had been pressed discreetly into Geoffrey's hand. Arrangements had been made to have Fancy and Checkmate and the curricle driven to London. A few brief words of earnest gratitude while Southwell tucked a rug around Lord Alton's legs, and the White Hart's chaise-and-four bore him off through the town on the way back to his world. He did not look back. "Jamie, you may move your things back into your room,” said Hester as the carriage disappeared round the corner. “I have the headache; pray do not disturb me." Alone in her chamber, she flung herself down on her bed and wept. She loved him, why had she not realised it? All this time she had been telling herself that she pitied him as a friend because of his unrequited love for Alice. It was no pity that made the world look bleak and bare now that he was gone. Pity could not leave that emptiness in her heart, that dread that she might never see him again. How could she have been so blind to her own feelings? Later that afternoon, when Geoffrey produced the fifty pounds, she was furious. “How dare he do such a thing! I've never been so insulted in my life! To make us believe we were friends and then—" "But Hester,” protested Geoff, “he did it as a friend; that's what he said. It's not supposed to be payment..." Jamie was equally taken aback by the martial light in his normally composed sister's eye. His own dislike of the gesture paled to insignificance. "I'm sure he meant well,” he said uncertainly. “He obviously expected us to refuse, or he'd not have given it to Geoff. You can't really consider it an insult, Hester, not when he did it in that way."

"Oh, can't I? Mr. Fairfax is a fine gentleman and pays his debts with delicacy, to spare the embarrassment of those who have provided services to him! Well, Mr. Fairfax will get his money back as soon as I arrive in London. I'll throw it in his supercilious face!" She seized the bag from Geoffrey and marched into her office. Her brothers heard the clink of coins as she banged it down on her desk. They looked at each other and shrugged helplessly. Anger turned out to be an excellent antidote for lovesickness. By the time she had prepared dinner, Hester was her usual self. After the meal, she went to see her grandfather and told him about the money. "He'd not willingly offend you, lass,” said the old man. “Can you not regard it as a gesture of friendship, as ‘twere meant?" "I don't want his friendship,” answered Hester crossly, but her first fury had passed. **** The days and weeks that followed were no less busy for the loss of one of her charges. As time went by, she forgave him, though still keeping the bag of sovereigns separate from her supply of ready cash. As the latter dwindled and Alice's wardrobe gradually filled with evening gowns and walking dresses, delicate muslins for morning wear, and a grand silk for balls, Hester was tempted. Christmas approached, and she took out the heavy bag and weighed it in her hand, then shut it away in a drawer with a sigh. Six weeks he had been gone, and not a word. The briefest of friendly notes would have melted her resolve. What a Christmas they might have had! But he had forgotten them, having no further need of them, having paid his debt. Six weeks, and the aching void in her heart was still there—when she allowed herself to recognise its presence. In another six weeks, she and Jamie would go up to London to hire a house for the season. And in the meantime she must hide her megrims and give the children a merry Christmas. **** Christmas found Lord Alton in town, after the emptiest month and a half of his life. A week in London discussing the death of Princess Charlotte in the House of Lords, a fortnight at Alton Court dealing with estate matters, hunting in Leicestershire with his friends until the frosts of mid-December made the ground too hard. In truth, he had only been out with the hunt twice. His leg hurt in the cold, but a more potent dissuasion was a vision of Hester nursing an injured rabbit. He had never relished the sight of a fox torn to pieces by bloody-mouthed hounds, and now he turned his face from it, sickened. He drank to pass the time, to kill the pain, to drown the visions. He gambled wildly at cards, which had never interested him, and won endlessly until his friends refused to play with him. The all-male society of the hunting boxes was leavened by a select few members of the muslin company. Lord Alton, whose mistress had deserted him during his long absence, ran off with his host's opera dancer. "Dash it, Alton,” protested that gentleman on meeting his rival in White's a week later, “is nothing sacred?" "You can have her back with my blessing. A tedious wench; I've found another." The second was no more satisfactory. He tried a flirtation with a society matron who had had her eye on him for some time. She was an accredited beauty, a lively, witty young woman, and she bored him to desperation. He returned to the bottle, the cards, and the lightskirts of Covent Garden, who made no demands on him that a few sovereigns would not take care of. Mr. Barnabas Rugby watched with increasing concern as his friend and client seemed to be rushing

straight to the devil. The brief account he had heard of Lord Alton's enforced stay with the Godrics suggested no reason for such a course, yet it was too much of a coincidence that it came hard on the heels of his return to society. Mr. Rugby called in Hanover Square at all hours of the day and found his lordship asleep or not at home. At last, after consulting his wife, he resolved to sit himself down in his friend's library and refuse to budge until he had seen him. It was the first week in January. Lord Alton had made a night of it, as had become his custom, and in the chill grey light of dawn he wandered homeward through Covent Garden market. Country women were setting up their stalls; baskets of cabbages and brussels sprouts, crates of wrinkled apples and shiny pears were wrestled from the farm carts by cursing men whose breath steamed in the frosty air. A few early housekeepers pinched and poked at the produce, haggling over a bunch of carrots or a braided string of onions. One or two of the market women had begun to cry their wares. "Turnups, white turnups!" "'Taters, sixpence a bushel, fine ‘taters!" "Sweet lavender, on'y a penny for a bunch o’ lavender!" Lord Alton stopped. His head felt muzzy and he shook it to clear it. "Lavender, penny a bunch, sweeten yer linen, sweet lavender!" "Here, girl, give me a bunch." "'At's a guinea, sir. Oi don’ ‘ave no chinge." "Keep it, keep it,” said Lord Alton impatiently. "Cor, ta, ducks. ‘Tain't no bokay, luv, just dried lavender.” He took the bundle of blue-grey stalks she held out to him and buried his face in their fragrance. Then he raised his head and looked around him as if startled to find himself there. When he walked on, his slouching ramble had vanished, replaced by a purposeful stride. "Cor stone the crows! Oi better set up fer a ‘pothecary!” exclaimed the lavender seller. As Lord Alton let himself into his house, a maid was crossing the hall with a scuttle of coal. "Morning, your lordship,” she greeted him in a cheerful whisper. “Mr. Rugby's asleep in the library. Should I make up the fire?" "Yes, go ahead ... What? Barney sleeping in my library?” His mind far from the present, his lordship had not lowered his voice. As the maid pushed open the door, Mr. Rugby himself appeared—a short, tousled figure in creased evening dress. "Barney, you're a mess. What are you doing here? Bella throw you out?" "Certainly not! It was the only way I could think of to be sure of seeing you. Do come in here, there's a good chap. It's past time we had a talk." "By all means, if you insist, but I'll be happy to come round to your office later on..." "Oh no, I'm not letting you go now I've caught you.” Mr. Rugby noticed the gaping maid, shooed her out, and closed the door. “Sit down, David. It's bloody cold in here, and you have demmed uncomfortable chairs, but you can just put up with it for a few minutes."

"They're not made for sleeping in,” pointed out his lordship reasonably. He raised his hand to his face, and Mr. Rugby noticed that he was carrying a bunch of lavender. A secret smile touched his lips as he inhaled the odour—a tender, reminiscent smile. “What was it you wanted to see me about?" Mr. Rugby collected his thoughts, fixed a stern look on his tall friend, and launched into the speech he had been preparing for several days. “David,” he began severely, “I realise you were confined to your bed in utter tedium for three months, and that you have been making up for lost time, but the ruinous course—" "Tedium?” queried his lordship dreamily. "That was not tedium." "Well, then, what possible excuse have you for your behaviour which has set the whole town talking and worried your friends to distraction!" Lord Alton returned to earth with a jolt. “Has it been that bad? Yes, I suppose it has. Barney, I was trying to forget, trying to persuade myself I did not care. When returning to my old way of life did not serve, I tried to banish her image in every way I could think up. But none of it was real. Nothing has seemed real since the day I left, and I have only just realised that I should have given the girl a fiver." "I beg your pardon?" "Never mind. The point is that now I know what I want, I shall do everything in my power to win her. Collingwood shan't have her!" "Who?” Barney was totally bewildered. "Didn't I tell you? Hester Godric, of course. My lavender lady." Mr. Rugby shook his head despairingly, but it was a different kind of despair from that which had prompted the interview. After a moment's silence, he looked at his friend and found that without warning his lordship had fallen asleep, a sweet smile on his face. "Hester Godric,” he murmured. “So that's what it was all about."

Chapter 10 "Hester, if you won't come, I'll go alone. I don't think informing his lawyer of our address in London is throwing ourselves into his arms. It will not in any way oblige him to visit, after all." "But do you not think it strange that we have had no word from him in all this time? That and the money make it obvious that he has no wish to look on us as friends." "He gave me Mr. Rugby's direction,” repeated Jamie obstinately, “and it is certainly common courtesy to let him know we are in town. After that it will be up to him. How do you propose to return the money if we do not give him a chance to contact us?" "Oh, very well,” Hester sighed. “I daresay I had best come with you. I should be very dull shut up in my chamber, and the streets are so very busy that I don't like to go out alone." The Staple Inn, a well-preserved Elizabethan hostelry, was situated in Holborn. Its upper storeys, with their oriel windows projecting over the street, lent it a quaint, old-fashioned air, but its chambers were comfortable enough. The coffee room was frequented by a noisy throng of fashionable bucks and their hangers-on, and Hester had been glad to find that a separate dining parlour was provided for residents. Since their arrival two days before, she and Jamie had already found a small house in the village of Paddington that would suit both family and budget to admiration. On the outskirts of town, it was comparatively quiet, yet within walking distance of Lady Bardry's residence in Holles Street. They could move in the following Monday, the ninth of February, and Hester was anxious to return to Henley to complete the preparations for their removal. Now Jamie was insisting on leaving their new address with Mr. Fairfax's lawyer. Hester had very mixed feelings on the subject. On the one hand, she shuddered at the prospect of giving him reason to think that they were pursuing him; on the other, the thought of never seeing him again was unbearable. She had hoped that a meeting might come about naturally, through Alice. Had he not said that his sister was acquainted with Lady Bardry? But Jamie would not wait for fate to intervene. Secretly, she was quite glad to have the decision taken out of her hands. They walked the three-quarters of a mile to the offices of Rugby, Rugby, Jones, and Rugby in the City. Hester was inclined to think that she would never become accustomed to the crowds in the streets, the noise and the bustle and the smells. She was happy to escape into the dim, fusty waiting room on Threadneedle Street, where a cheerful fire belied the general appearance of comfortless gloom. Mr. Barnabas Rugby was delighted to be informed that Mr. and Miss Godric requested an interview on personal business. At last he would see the young woman who had driven David to the depths of dissipation and then raised him therefrom to the pinnacle of virtue without lifting a finger. For a month he had watched bemused as his lordship, abandoning his former haunts and occupations, had thrown himself into the redecoration and refurbishing of both his houses. Nothing, it seemed, was too good for Hester Godric. "But how can you be sure she will have you?” he had protested. "I shall make myself indispensable. Once she comes to see me as something more than just another chick to be taken under her wing, anything is possible. I'll make her love me. It's a matter of necessity; I can't live without her. Barney, she's an angel!" Mr. Rugby was surprised to find that the angel possessed no extraordinary degree of beauty, though she

was certainly no antidote. She displayed none of the airs and graces of a lady of fashion, but bore herself with a natural dignity which, he could see, might prove attractive to a gentleman who had spent years fighting off the wiles of sophisticated debutantes. On the whole, he was inclined to think that David had fallen in love with her simply because she had taken care of him when he was ill. It seemed more than likely that a second meeting would disillusion him. He hoped the girl would not be hurt in the process. "Pray be seated, Miss Godric, Mr. Godric,” he invited. “I have been expecting your visit. Have you succeeded in finding a house to your liking in London?" "Yes, sir,” Jamie assured him, and gave the direction. Then he added shyly, “My sister requests that you not tell Mr. Fairfax unless he specifically asks for it. We do not wish to appear encroaching." "Of course, Mr. Godric.” Barney did not see fit to mention that David enquired after them daily. “Am I correct in believing that this is your first visit to the metropolis? How do you like it?" "We have not had time to see a great deal. We are staying at the Staple Inn in Holborn, so we saw St. Paul's Cathedral on our way here this morning. My brother Geoffrey and I intend to visit every place of interest when we are settled in Paddington." "And you, Miss Godric?” Mr. Rugby turned to Hester, who had been silent so far. "I confess, sir, I find the traffic and crowds in the streets rather alarming,” she answered, smiling. Her voice was low and sweet, and the smile, reflected in her eyes, lit her face like a ray of sunshine. The lawyer became conscious of a faint scent of lavender. It suddenly seemed possible that David might be seriously attached to this young woman. "My wife feels the same,” he said. “I think she would like to meet you. May I bring her to call on you when you return to London?" "Oh, thank you, sir, but ... No, of course I should be happy to make Mrs. Rugby's acquaintance. We must not take up any more of your time now. Come, Jamie." Mr. Rugby shook Jamie's hand. "When do you leave for Henley?” he asked. "Tonight, on the Oxford stage. Hester is in a hurry to get back to the children and packing. Good-bye, sir, and thank you." "I expect his lordship may wish to call at your inn this afternoon. May I tell him—" "His lordship?” interrupted Hester. “There is some mistake. It is Mr. David Fairfax of whom we were speaking." "David Fairfax is the Earl of Alton,” said Mr. Rugby gently. “He asked me to break the news to you in a circumspect manner. I'm afraid I have shocked you." After a moment of disbelief, Jamie flushed to the roots of his hair. Hester, as white as he was red, put out her hand blindly and caught at the edge of the desk. "Shocked,” she murmured, “yes, shocked. To be so deceived! I trusted him, thought I knew him..." "And all this time he has been laughing up his sleeve at us!” exclaimed Jamie bitterly. “Poor fools that we

are, to have aspired to friendship with a Peer of the Realm. Hester, we must go." "No, no, you misunderstand,” insisted Mr. Rugby, appalled at the effect of his words. “David did not mean ... he had no intention ... Oh, bother him,” he muttered at their retreating backs. “He will have to explain for himself. A right mull I've made of it. A lawyer lost for words! Father must be turning in his grave." Scarce three hours later, a smart curricle drew up before the Staple Inn. "Walk the horses, Jerry,” the driver ordered his groom as he jumped down. “I'll not be long, I fear.” Entering the lobby, he gave a passing maidservant his card and a shilling. “To Miss Godric,” he requested. “I'll wait here. Or Mr. Godric,” he added quickly. Lord Alton felt curiously unsure of himself. On hearing the Godrics’ reaction to the revelation of his title, he had roundly cursed Barney, then apologised shamefacedly and cursed himself. The minutes that passed now did nothing to reassure him, and he pictured a heated debate above the stairs, wondering whether Hester or Jamie was taking his part. Possibly they were merely discussing how best to reject his overtures. A dark-haired gentleman, dressed with exquisite taste in the latest fashion, emerged from the coffee room. "Ho, Alton!” he greeted his lordship. “Sold those chestnuts yet? I've been looking for you this fortnight past. I'll make you a good offer for them, but I'd like to try their paces for myself first." "Certainly,” replied Lord Alton. He was about to propose a suitable time when he saw Hester descending the stairs. “I cannot talk now, though. Will you be at White's this evening? I'll discuss it with you then, Rathwycke." "Very well.” He turned away as Lord Alton moved to meet Hester. "Miss Godric!” His lordship had expected to be greeted with coolness, but the shocked distaste on her face was inexplicable. Neither noticed the dark gentleman swing round at the sound of her name and subject her to a close scrutiny. "My lord,” said Hester with cold reserve, “I have come down to return to you this purse. The contents are intact, I assure you." He had come prepared to humble himself, to plead for forgiveness. Now he found his gift thrown back in his face, and he was suddenly aware that Rathwycke had not discreetly taken himself off but was standing close by, drawing on his gloves in a leisurely way. Hurt and embarrassed, he drew himself up. "My dear girl,” he said with condescending hauteur, ‘that is not at all necessary. I beg that you will keep the money against future need. Good day, ma'am.” To his own horror, he found himself stalking out. With Rathwycke's sardonic gaze upon him, he could not run back to throw himself at her feet and attempt an explanation. Curse the man! he thought savagely. Hester's worst fears were borne out. She had hoped against hope to find her dear friend unchanged. Instead, along with his title he had assumed the proud and haughty air of aristocratic arrogance. The man she loved was gone. What matter, then, that she had heard him address in the friendliest manner the villain who had ruined Grace Collingwood? Birds of a feather, she decided cynically. Was it possible that only his injury had saved Alice from his disastrous attentions?

Cynicism did not sit well on Hester. By the time she reached her chamber, she was ready to weep. Only the necessity of describing the brief meeting to Jamie forced her to hold back her tears. They packed their bags, dined without appetite, and went to board the stage. Lord Alton headed straight for Mr. Rugby's office. "It's all over,” he told his friend despondently, helping himself to a glass of sherry from the decanter on the bookshelf. Mr. Rugby was surprised. He had not expected disillusionment to set in so quickly. He was growing quite used to being surprised by the course of this affair. "We traded insults,” his lordship continued. “I'm sure she'll never want to see me again. Barney, what shall I do?" "Do? I thought you said it was all over." "I suppose I don't really believe that. I can't just let her go, thinking I'm a conceited, pretentious blackguard. I remember too clearly what her grandfather said to me. He foresaw us both standing on our dignity till the Day of Judgement." "A gentlemen of discernment." "No, for I shan't. They are removing to Paddington next Monday? I shall call on Wednesday." **** By Wednesday afternoon, Hester was exhausted. Even with the assistance of the two maids Jamie had insisted on hiring, it had been no easy business transporting her family to London and settling them in their temporary home. At last everything was unpacked and bestowed in its proper place. At least she had had no leisure to brood about the breach with Mr. Fairfax—no, Lord Alton—which looked irreparable. Robbie, having already made friends with a couple of village urchins, had taken off across the fields with strict instructions to stay away from the construction area where the Regent's Canal would soon join the Grand Union. Jamie had unwillingly escorted a tearful Alice to Holles Street. Geoff had nobly offered to take Susan strolling in Hyde Park. The servants retired to the kitchen, and the house was blissfully quiet. Hester sank into a chair in the small parlour, kicked off her shoes, and tucked her legs beneath her. Chin in hand, eyes fixed absently on a leafless elm beyond the mullioned window, she mused unhappily for a while. Gradually she drifted into slumber. The ring of hooves and rattle of wheels on the cobbles outside failed to wake her, as did a firm knocking on the front door. She did not hear a determined masculine voice enquiring for her, nor the maid's breathless answer. "She be in the parlour, sir, but I dunno if she be at ‘ome,” said Bessie, flustered by the unexpected appearance of a fine gentleman, “bang up to the nines” as she reported to Dora, on the modest doorstep. Lord Alton did not wait to find out whether or not the mistress of the house was “at home.” He was all too afraid she was not, at least to him. "In here?” he queried, and pushed open the parlour door.

The click of the latch as he shut it behind him roused Hester. She looked up at him sleepily. The long rays of the setting sun lit on his tall, powerful form and thick, wavy blond hair, and he looked like a Greek god. He sat down in the chair next to hers and took her hand. "I must apologise for waking you,” he said gravely, “and for a great deal else besides." She blinked at him, too stunned by her vision of Apollo to answer, or even to take in his words. "Come, you are still half-asleep.” He laughed softly. “Forgive me while you think me a dream, then wake and remember only that we are friends." His eyes were pleading with her even while he joked. He needed her compassion, and Hester had never in her life turned away anyone in need. "We are friends,” she repeated with a wry smile. “Between friends no apologies are needed. I did not trust far enough—" "No apologies,” he reminded, placing his finger on her lips. He would have preferred to silence her with a kiss, but having made this much progress, he had no intention of rushing his fences and once more losing her precious trust. He asked after her brothers and sisters. By the time he took his leave, half an hour later, Hester was well on the way to forgetting she had ever quarrelled with him. "Good-bye, my lord,” she said. “I am so very glad you came." "As am I,” he assured her fervently. “I wish you will not call me ‘my lord.’ It is so very formal." "I cannot address you as ‘Mr. Fairfax’ any longer, and ‘Alton’ sounds much too familiar." "Yet ‘Fairfax’ or ‘Lord Alton’ are almost as bad. Oh, the complex degrees of intimacy! There is no alternative; you must call me David." "I could not!” she said in confusion. “It would look excessively particular." "Barney Rugby's wife, Bella, calls me David. He tells me he hopes to introduce her to you. You will not wish to be behind her." "But I'm sure she has known you for years! Oh, you are such a tease. Very well, it shall be David, but only in private. There, does that satisfy you? Good-bye, David. I shall endeavour to make your peace with Jamie." 'Good-bye, Hester,” he said daringly, an impish twinkle in his eyes. "Miss Godric to you, sir!” she exclaimed in indignation, but suddenly her name, which she had always thought rather commonplace and staid, developed infinite possibilities. Geoffrey and Susan came home, full of the extraordinary and wonderful things they had seen on their walk. "An organ-grinder with a dancing monkey!” Susan told her. “He had on a little red jacket with brass buttons." "A curricle race with two ladies driving four-in-hand,” put in Geoff.

"A pastrycook's with hundreds of different kinds of cakes." "I bought her a penny bun. We saw the gibbet at Tyburn." "Oh, Geoff, how could you let your sister see such a thing!" "How was I to know we would pass it? I made her cover her eyes and led her past. There weren't any corpses anyway. They don't have executions there anymore." "Geoffrey, I do believe Alice is right and you are growing quite coarse." "I'm not! I wouldn't go to see a hanging, only everyone does, you know." Jamie arrived in time to prevent further dispute. “What a watering-pot!” he exclaimed in disgust, flinging himself into a chair. “Pour me some tea, Sue. You'd have thought I was taking her to her own hanging, honestly.” He ignored Geoff's cackle and Hester's silent appeal to heaven. “She managed to restrain herself until it was time for me to leave, then she burst into tears on my shirt. I'm still damp. Cousin Sophie is all over freckles. Aunt Bardry looked sick as a dog when she saw our Allie." "Oh dear,” said Hester. “I hope she will not take Allie in dislike. You must go tomorrow, Jamie, and see that she has settled in." Bessie came in to light the lamp, and Hester realised that the sun had set some time since. "Where is Robbie?” she wondered anxiously. “He knows he must be home by dark." "He doesn't know the area well yet,” pointed out Geoff. “He probably wandered farther than he intended. Do you want me to go out and call?" "Would you? Just in case he is not sure of his way." Geoff had his hand on the latch when the sound of raised voices in the kitchen was heard. He opened the door, and they all heard Robbie's indignant cry. "I live here! And this boy is hurt. You ask my sister, she'll let him in!" Hester picked up her skirts and ran. The back door was open, and framed in it stood her youngest brother, though how she knew it was he through the coating of mud that covered him from head to toe, she could not have explained. He had his filthy arm draped protectively around the shoulders of a smaller boy, a pitifully thin child dressed in rags, who was shivering convulsively and seemed barely able to stand. His skin had a greyish cast marked with smudges and smears of coal black, though compared to Rob he was clean. Confronting the two, arms akimbo, stood Dora, the cook-maid. Robbie saw his sister. "Hester! This is Albert. He's a chimney sweep's climbing boy, and he's all burnt and hasn't had anything to eat for two days." "Bath first,” said Hester firmly. “Come in and shut the door, the pair of you. Dora, heat some water, please." "Miss, you bain't agoin’ to take in that there ragamuffin!" "Why, certainly. Bessie, the tub. Susan, find some clean clothes for both of them, please, and the rest of you go away.

"Oi ain't ‘avin’ no bahf. Gimme summat to eat, Miss, an Oi'll go. Ol’ ‘Ardy'll kill me if ‘e foinds me.” Albert's tone was pugnacious, but his voice trembled. Unmindful of the dirt, Hester knelt and took him in her arms. "You poor child, Mr. Hardy won't find you here. Come, you shall have a good meal when you are clean, and then you may leave if you wish." "Werl, Oi ain't ‘avin’ no lidies bahf me." After some argument, it was agreed that the boys, sharing a tub, might wash themselves under Geoffrey's supervision, while all the “lidies” left the kitchen. Robbie emerged from the black, soapy water rosy-cheeked and -cherubic. The best that could be said for Albert was that he came out a lighter shade of grey. The soot of his profession was ingrained in his skin. "His hands and elbows and feet are burned,” reported Geoff as Hester rejoined them. “He's covered with bruises, and his language is appalling. He says he's ten, but he's half Rob's size." Hester anointed the burns with a homemade salve. As she had expected a bowl of hot soup with bread and cheese completed the work done by the warm bath. Albert fell asleep at the kitchen table, a pathetic little figure in a white nightshirt several sizes too large. A straw mattress was set by the stove for him, and he never stirred all through the bustle of belated preparations for the family's dinner. "What are we going to do with him?” demanded Jamie as they sat down to eat. “His master will certainly be looking for him." "Cor blimey, ‘e's a bloody monster,” said Robbie experimentally. "That's the mildest of his epithets,” Geoffrey assured them. “Jamie's right, he can't stay here for long." "I shall ask Lord Alton what is best to do,” announced Hester with outward calm. There was a stunned silence before the clamour broke out. "Good,” said Robbie, and went on eating. "But I thought...” began Susan. "I shouldn't think he will—” was Geoff's contribution before James interrupted him. "Hester, you cannot approach him after what happened! I could never bring myself to speak to him, let alone call on him." Though the others were quickly satisfied, it took Hester considerable time and effort to convince Jamie that his lordship's visit and apology were sufficient to allow him to regain his former standing in their eyes. Later that evening, she took him aside. "I am quite certain that Lord Alton was genuinely sorry that his alias so distressed us,” she said. “He thought it no significant deceit when he gave us his name, and then he could not see how to retract the false information. My dear, be generous." "Oh, very well, but I cannot see why he should seek us out." "He is a true friend, and besides ... Jamie, I wish you will not let this go any further. I am persuaded that he is in love with Alice. She has never shown him any distinguishing attention, but I expect he is still hopeful, and if you refuse to receive him, he must cease to think of her."

"It would certainly be a highly advantageous match for Allie,” said Jamie thoughtfully. “Oh, dash it, Hester, I was used to think him a very good fellow, and I daresay I shall again. I'll go and see him tomorrow." "He promised to pay us a visit tomorrow morning,” she confessed, her eyes brimming with mirthful guilt. “Pray do not be cross with me. I know how fond you had become of him and ventured to assure him that I could bring about a reconciliation." Jamie sighed. “Well, I'm sure I don't know what is to be done about Albert. and he undoubtedly will. And it was excessively kind in him to have helped me with the Greek. You win, Hester. You are a complete hand!" Slipping into the chamber she shared with Susan, Hester also sighed. She supposed that Lord Alton would now begin to pursue his courtship of Alice openly, and she was far from certain that she would be able to endure the sight with any appearance of composure.

Chapter 11 "Good morning, Lady Ariadne. I am excessively happy to find you at home. Such shocking weather for the middle of February, is it not? I declare quite two inches of snow fell last night. Allow me to present my niece to you—Miss Godric, poor Alicia's eldest. I see George is here, and dear Marianne. How do you do, Mr. Charworthy? Sophie, take Alice to meet the young people. I daresay she and Miss Charworthy will go on famously together, and you are always happy to see Mr. Charworthy, are you not? Such a charming couple,” said Lady Bardry in motherly tones to her hostess, as her daughter, freckles momentarily overwhelmed by a crimson tide, bobbed a curtsy and led Alice across the room. "George is by far too young to be thinking in terms of couples,” replied Lady Ariadne firmly. “Though he did tell me the other day how delightful he found Lady Jane Morton. I believe she has thirty thousand pounds, besides something from her great-uncle." "Not a penny more than ten thousand, and French blood on her mother's side. Sophie is the sweetest-tempered child, not at all put out to be sharing her first season with her cousin. They quite dote on each other already, and fortunately dear Sophie has sense enough for two." Hiding her chagrin at this clear reference to her firstborn's acknowledged possession of more hair than wit, Lady Ariadne chose to concentrate on the other implication of the remark. "Miss Godric has beauty enough for two,” she said with equal malice, “and gentlemen prefer bird-witted females. Her manners seem pretty enough. I take it she has no fortune?" "A thousand or two. Nothing to signify. However, I daresay I may succeed in passing her off creditably, though Sophie of course remains my chief concern. It is gratifying to see how fond of each other she and George are when they have known each other forever. Quite a romance!" "George!” called his mother, “you mentioned an appointment at your club. It is growing late." "Not important, Mama. I—" "You are not to be getting in the way of missing appointments, George. Lady Bardry will excuse you." "Yes, Mama." The departure of the Honourable Mr. Charworthy, heir to Baron Charworthy of Stone and heir presumptive to the Earl of Alton, left three ill-assorted young ladies to an exchange of confidence. Alice was as unaware of Cousin Sophie's homeliness as she was of her own charms, but thought her very clever and remarkably kind. Even she could see that Marianne Charworthy was a beauty, and she was happy to gratify that young lady's curiosity about her family and her home. It did not dawn on her that such curiosity in a new acquaintance might more readily be described as inquisitiveness. Miss Charworthy had just broached the subject of beaux when another visitor was announced. Lord Alton strolled in and bowed over his sister's hand. "Met George in the street, and he told me you had company,” he explained his visit, to Lady Ariadne's displeasure. “Lady Bardry, your servant, ma'am. And is this my little niece? Good morning ah ... um..." "Marianne,” she informed him icily. “This is Miss Sophie Bardry, Uncle.” She laid particular stress on this last word, as his lordship had been known to complain of feeling positively aged when so addressed. "How do you do, Miss Bardry? And Miss Alice, I am charmed to renew our acquaintance."

Alice blushed and muttered something indistinguishable. “You have met Miss Godric?” enquired Lady Ariadne, instantly suspicious. "Oh yes, her father you know—member of White's and all that,” her brother informed her airily. With great difficulty, her ladyship swallowed an acid comment on the fact that he remembered the name of the daughter of a casual acquaintance but not that of his own niece. She was certain he could never have been intimate with the late Mr. Godric. Once more she regarded Miss Alice's exquisite appearance. Not Miss Godric, but Miss Alice! she noted. The situation would bear investigating. Lady Bardry had not missed a word or a glance. So her niece knew the earl, did she, the sly thing. It would be a magnificent match. Too much to hope for, really, and of course it would quite outshine Sophie and that moonling George Charworthy. Nor would the Honourable George be so desirable a parti if he ceased to be heir to the Alton title, estates, and fortune. On the other hand, her Sophie was no beauty and had but a moderate dowry; George would still be highly eligible and less likely than ever to attract any other young lady. Besides, it would be one in the eye for Lady Ariadne, to have Lord Alton marry Miss Alice Godric. Her head full of plans and conjectures, Lady Bardry took her leave. To her delight and Lady Ariadne's fury, his lordship offered to escort her and her charges to the Pantheon Bazaar, in search of gloves and slippers. His lordship was most desirous of improving his acquaintance with Hester's family's relatives. As soon as the door was shut behind the departing guests, Marianne reported to her mother. Lady Ariadne did not, in the normal way, indulge in gossip, but it gave her a feeling of power to have at her fingertips the intimate details of the private affairs of her acquaintances. Miss Charworthy had quickly learned that the only time her mother considered her utterances to be worthy of attention was when she had such details to impart. Miss Alice would have been surprised to discover just how much information she had disclosed. Not that she had mentioned either Lord Alton or Mr. Collingwood, but the existence of a half sister of questionable gentility, carefully concealed by Lady Bardry, was no longer a secret. And a connexion of Miss Alice was by extension a connexion of Lady Bardry. One in the eye for dear Henrietta, thought Lady Ariadne triumphantly. Only, if her brother took it into his head to offer for the chit, then Miss Godric would become a connexion of the Charworthys, and that would never do. Lady Ariadne decided that George must be ordered to keep an eye on Miss Alice, even if it meant throwing him into the company of Sophie. **** Hester, meanwhile, was determined that her presence in London should not imperil her sister's chances of contracting a brilliant alliance. When Lord Alton had arrived in Paddington the morning after Albert's appearance, he was pleased but not surprised to find the entire family, even Jamie, ready for a reconciliation. He had expected Hester's influence and their own good-natured friendliness to prevail. It was not long before Albert's story had been explained to him and his advice requested. "This will require some thought,” he told them. “If I can prevail upon Miss Godric to join me in my curricle for a turn about the park, I shall have time to consider and to discuss with her what is to be done.” It was part of his plan of campaign, to accustom the ton to seeing an unknown lady up beside him before he stunned them with the news that this was his bride.

Hester would have none of it. “I should not dream of exposing myself thus to the world,” she said adamantly. “Someone would certainly enquire who I was, and that would be the end of Allie's comfort. You cannot have considered, sir." "Well then,” he proposed, resigned, “allow me to drive you about the country lanes while we consider Albert's position. I assure you I do my best thinking while handling the ribbons." "But I ought to—" "Oh, go on, Hester,” interrupted Jamie. “If there is anything Bessie and Dora cannot do, we will manage it between us." She allowed herself to be persuaded and ran off to don her best pelisse, which, though fashioned from cheap cloth, was elegantly styled and sewn by Alice's talented hands. Tidying her hair before donning her bonnet, she was suddenly light-hearted. Of course he was only being kind to her for Alice's sake, but if it meant she saw him often, she would enjoy his company while she might. Albert's fate was not quickly decided. Lord Alton found it necessary to call every day for consultations, and after a week of fine weather, he and Hester were thoroughly conversant with all the highways and byways to the north and west of Paddington. Nor did an unexpected fall of snow put an end to his visits. That was the day he met Alice at his sister's house and went to convey news of her to her anxious family. On that occasion it was finally decided that Albert should become a stableboy at the Phoenix Yard. His old master, Hardy, was situated just around the corner in Harley Mews, but once it was explained to the boy that the sweep no longer had any claim on him, he ceased to shiver in his new shoes and looked forward to the prospect of shouting rude remarks after him with impunity. Lord Alton had not revealed to the Godrics how much he had had to pay the master to redeem the young “apprentice,” nor how much to the stable owner to take him in. “I threatened Hardy with the law,” he said. “Even today such treatment is illegal, though commonplace. Bennet's Select Committee is turning up some horrifying evidence, and we hope that before too long the use of climbing boys will be banned." "Our sweep in Henley used brushes,” Hester assured him. “It seems quite unnecessary to subject small children to such dreadful experiences." They were sitting by a cosy fire with a pot of tea. James and Geoffrey were gone out sight-seeing, Robbie was away across the field with his new friends, and Susan was confined to her bed with a miserable cold. "Phoenix Yard is where I stable my cattle in town,” said Lord Alton, “I'll have my groom keep an eye on the lad. It is very close to Hanover Square." "You are not far from Holles Street, are you?” Hester asked. “I could wish we were a little closer so that Alice might come here on foot. A mile and a quarter is no distance in the country, but a vast gulf in London, it seems." "I shall call on Lady Bardry and bring Miss Alice to see you one of these days,” promised his lordship. “And I shall do my best to keep an eye on her for you. I have not been going about in society a great deal recently, but I suppose we will frequently be invited to the same parties. and I shall make a point of attending." Hester would have been surprised to hear otherwise, but she was glad to be certain that someone she trusted would have a care for Alice's welfare. And she did trust him. The mortification she had felt at the

revelation of his peerage now seemed a ridiculous misunderstanding, and the gift of fifty pounds was the act of a generous and considerate gentleman. It was unthinkable that Alice should reject him! Albert went off happily with Lord Alton, ten pounds heavier than when he had arrived and with a tinge of pink faintly visible in his cheeks. "Oi'll niver fergit yer, miss, God stroike me dead if Oi does,” were his parting words. Dora and Bessie were so relieved to see the last of him that they scarcely murmured when Robbie turned up next day with a three-legged cat. "He's called Mosquito ‘cos he bit me,” he announced. “He's not as beautiful as Gumby, but he's very friendly.” Mosquito, who turned out to be a female, was black and scruffy. Far from biting any of her new family, she lived up to Robbie's words and insisted on snuggling on the lap of anyone who was kind enough to sit down. Failing that, she was quite willing to make do with the best armchair. However, she paid for her first night's lodging with the remains of three mice deposited neatly on the kitchen hearth and gratefully accepted a bowl of cold porridge for breakfast. "You may keep her,” Hester agreed, “as long as you don't let her into the parlour. Black hairs show dreadfully on that light brocade, and it is not our furniture, remember." "Thank you,” said Robbie joyfully, and departed in a hurry before he could be reminded that it was time for his lessons. Lord Alton brought more welcome guests that Saturday, in the persons of Mr. Barnabas Rugby and his wife. Bella Rugby was the daughter of a Hampshire baronet and had met her husband when he was staying at Alton Court. Her parents held Lord Alton responsible for her marriage to a mere lawyer, particularly as they had cherished hopes of the earl himself as son-in-law. In view of his exalted rank, they had not been able to bring themselves to cut his acquaintance, especially as he had continued a very good friend of the young couple. But though reconciled to Mr. Rugby, who after all had the manners of a gentleman and was decidedly plump in the pocket, they still behaved with pointed coldness to his lordship whenever they met. After several years of wedded bliss, marred only by the lack of children, Bella was at last increasing. A quietly self-confident young woman of six or seven and twenty years and no more than sixty inches, she was radiant with happiness and bubbling with high spirits. She was more than willing to make friends with the country mouse who had somehow succeeded in tearing her childhood friend from the pursuit of fashionable flirtations and high-flying Cyprians. Hester took to her at once, though she was shy with Bella's husband. After all, at their previous meeting she and Jamie had walked out on him in a huff. He showed no disposition to resent the occasion, and she was soon at her ease with him also. Their planned half-hour visit stretched to an hour, and then they were persuaded to stay for tea. "Has Susan been permitted to frequent the kitchen here?” asked Lord Alton. “You must know, Belia, that young Susan is a notable pastrycook." "She is still far from well,” said Hester. “In fact, if you will excuse me, I must go and see how she does." "May I come with you?” Bella requested. “I have heard so much about your family, and the others are all out."

"She is not infectious,” Hester said, seeing Barney's anxious look. “She took a chill and is very slow to recuperate. I am afraid the air here does not suit her." "Let me sit with her. When one is confined to one's bed, a fresh face often acts like a tonic." Hester fetched some barley water and a custard, and the ladies went upstairs. They found Susan restless, but when she saw she had a visitor, she sat up and looked more cheerful. "Do you go down and entertain the gentlemen, and I will see that she eats her custard,” suggested Bella. With a conspiratorial smile at Susan, she waved Hester away. Hester found the gentlemen discussing the haste with which the Royal Dukes were repudiating their mistresses and scrambling after German princesses, now that the direct succession to the throne was broken. They dropped the subject precipitately on her entry, as not being fit for her ears, and enquired after Miss Susan. Hester poured tea and sent Bessie with a cup for Bella. Robbie appeared, a sixth sense common among small boys having warned him that food was in the offing. He made his bow to Mr. Rugby. "How do you do, sir? Is it true you don't know any highwaymen?" "I'm afraid not. I am the wrong kind of lawyer." "Hard lines,” commiserated Robbie. “How about sailors?" "I am acquainted with one or two. Do you wish for an introduction?" "No thanks; they'd only say I'm too bloody young." "Robbie!" "Sorry, Hester. I forgot you were here. Geoff says it's all right to swear when there are no ladies present." The gentlemen collapsed in laughter, watched by a resigned Hester and an indulgent Robbie. "Lord Alton said he'd take me to the docks to see the ships, and maybe on a paddle-steamer,” he continued, careful to address his remark to Mr. Rugby so that Hester would be unable to accuse him of dropping a hint. Fortunately, his lordship was wide awake. "I had not forgot, Rob. You have been in London less than two weeks." "Oh, that's all right, sir,” said Robbie magnanimously. “Jamie said he'd take me to the Tower of London to see the wild beasts, and he hasn't yet either." "I must see if I cannot beat James to the mark. Barney. how does one go about taking passage on a steamboat?" "I've not the least idea. Now if you had a secretary, David, as I keep telling you, you might expect him to keep abreast of such useful information." "You are right, of course; you are very right. Rob, I shall hire a secretary." "But you'll come with me yourself, will you not, sir?"

"Yes, yes, dear boy. I should not dream of fobbing you off with a mere hireling." "Good,” said Robbie, relieved. “It will be a great lark. Hester, Mr. Rugby has not met Mosquito. Can I bring her in, only for a minute?" "Oh no, you know how she sheds. Perhaps Mr. Rugby would permit you to take him to the kitchen to be introduced.” If Mr. Rugby was surprised, he gave no sign, and followed Robbie out. He could be heard making some cheerful comment in the hall. Hester turned to Lord Alton. "How very kind your friends are, my lord." "David." "David,” she repeated obediently, flushing faintly. By dint of avoiding his name and title altogether, she had not so far made free with his Christian name. “I wondered if you will be at Lady Orpington's soirée tonight,” she went on. “It will be Alice's first dress party, and I know she is sadly nervous. Jamie saw her yesterday." "I shall be there, but it will be no big affair. The season is barely started, and London is still very thin of company. In spite of that, I daresay Miss Alice will be swamped by admirers. I scarce look to be happy enough to obtain her hand for a dance." "I am sure she will save one for you. She must still have little acquaintance in society." "With a face and figure like hers, she will not long be wanting. How are James and Geoffrey? They are generally absent when I call." "They have not yet exhausted the sights. Every day they come home with tales of new wonders." "And have you no curiosity to see those wonders?" "There are certainly a number of places I should like to go, including Rob's wild beasts at the Tower, but I cannot bring myself to walk through those excessively busy streets." "Hester, allow me to escort you in my carriage. I assure you it will not be remarkable. If you wish, perhaps we might take up Alice and her cousin, the freckle-faced chit, and I daresay my nephew George could be prevailed upon to accompany us. In general the ton are shockingly ignorant of the monuments and points of interest of the city, and it would do them good. Come, you cannot refuse me." Hester was not sufficiently conversant with the foibles of society to know whether Lord Alton might with propriety invite her sister without her. Considering the proposed party, she saw that she would be acting the part of a chaperone. It seemed unexceptionable, and she was loath to put a rub in the way of his lordship's wooing, though she had rather not be present to see it. Other considerations aside, it sounded like a delightful outing. "Thank you,” she said. “I shall look forward to it. I take it you are not as uninformed as the generality of the ton upon the subject?" "I shall purchase a guidebook,” he answered, smiling. “I shall speak to Lady Bardry tonight and arrange a date. Is there any time that would not be convenient for you? Then with your permission I shall call tomorrow afternoon to discuss our plans." "By all means. David, I heard what you and Mr. Rugby were speaking of when I came down, and it reminded me of the time you told me about the Regent's creaking corsets. There is a rumour that he has

now abandoned them. It is shockingly indelicate to ask, I know, but is it true?" "I'm very much afraid it is. Prinny has left off his stays. The loss of his daughter quite took the heart out of him, and he has lost interest in appearances. Temporarily, one must hope. I believe he is a horrid sight! Well, Barney, how is Mosquito?" Mr. Rugby entered with his arm about his wife's waist. "In fine feather,” he declared, “having lunched upon a sparrow. Master Robbie cannot approve of her catching anything but mice, and of that he seems uncertain. I must say I find it hard to believe she can catch anything. at all with one limb missing." "Nor does Mistress Dora approve of feathers in the soup,” added Bella. “In fact, Mosquito received a rare trimming from all sides. Hester, Susan ate the custard and is sleeping. The poor child seems to miss her grandfather excessively, and Miss Alice not a little." "She was always particularly fond of Grandpapa,” Hester agreed, frowning, “and a good deal in Allie's company, of course. Do you think she is pining?" "I would not put it so strongly. But I have noticed before that some children take it very hard when they are parted from familiar things and places, like a wildflower that withers away when you transplant it to your garden, despite the tenderest of care. I hope you will not think me interfering." "Of course not, Bella. I am grateful for your insight. I must consider what to do for the best." "And we must be on our way. Barney, David, bless you for introducing me to Hester. We shall meet again soon, my dear." Even as she pondered Bella's analysis of Susan's ailment, Hester silently echoed these words. Her worry receded before the joy of finding a new friend. She could not ask for a better friend than David Fairfax, but between a man and a woman so much must remain unsaid, and since she had foolishly lost her heart to him she had had to be even more circumspect. Nor could she trouble a gentleman with day-to-day worries about her family. With a female friend, she could speak openly, discuss her problems, ask advice. A new world opened before her, and she even wondered momentarily whether she might confess to Bella her love for Lord Alton, though the idea was soon dismissed. She was completely unaware that no confession was necessary. Bella had not been in the same room with the pair for more than ten minutes before she would have taken her oath on their mutual attachment. The secret was safe with her. Fond as she was of David, she had no intention of setting him up in his own conceit and rendering his task too easy. Let him court Hester in form and lie awake nights wondering whether his lavender lady would ever return his affection. Knowing Bella's love of the romantic, her husband had not failed to report the bunch of withered lavender that had worked its amazing transformation on his friend. He, too, was now convinced that the affair was serious. Not that he had any inkling of the lady's feelings, but the astounding sight of the Earl of Alton on terms of intimate friendship with a grimy eight-year-old had clinched the matter in his eyes. David was in love!

Chapter 12 By the time Lord Alton arrived on Sunday afternoon, Hester had made up her mind about Susan. For once the whole family was present. His lordship had brought Alice, and even the invalid was below stairs, bundled up in a quilt. "I'm going home to stay with Grandpa,” she cried joyfully as Bessie ushered in the visitors. “Hester had a letter from him yesterday saying he misses us dreadfully already. Jamie is to take me on the stage on Tuesday." Alice's eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Susan, you will be so far away. Only think how you will miss Hester and the boys." "Allie, dear,” said Hester, embracing her, “it is all settled. Susan is not well here, and we will see if she goes on better in Henley. Excuse me, Lord Alton, for not greeting you at once. One forgets that you are no longer one of the family as you were in Henley." "Must I break my other leg to regain my position? I wish you will not ask it of me, for then we should be forced to forgo our outing. Miss Alice and I laid our plans last night at Orpington House and persuaded Miss Bardry and George to join us. I have purchased a guide, but perhaps James and Geoffrey now feel themselves qualified to instruct us on where to go." "Yesterday we went to the—” began Geoff. Jamie kicked his ankle. "Hester will wish to see the Tower,” he interrupted, throwing his brother a minatory glance, “and Vauxhall Gardens." "And the docks,” put in Robbie. "It's a grown-up party,” Susan told him. “They won't want to look at boats." After some discussion, Hester, Alice and Lord Alton agreed on an itinerary. "Will Thursday suit you, Miss Godric?” his lordship asked at last. “I must go out of town for a day or two on Tuesday. As it happens, I shall pass through Henley. Will you allow me to drive Miss Susan to her grandfather? I should be happy to renew my acquaintance with Mr. Stevens." "I am sure he would be pleased to see you, but you must not go out of your way. Jamie may very well escort his sister." "I assure you it is not the least out of my way.” Since I must in any event call on your grandfather soon, he added silently. “Susan, should you not like to keep me company on my drive?" "Oh yes, sir. Shall you take the curricle? That would be beyond anything great." "If it is fine and Miss Godric is not afraid that you will be chilled." "Hester, say I may! Please? Think how surprised Grandpa will be to see me arrive so grandly!" Hester found it impossible to refuse, though she suspected Lord Alton of fabricating a nonexistent errand. She had not been entirely easy about allowing her little sister to travel with only Jamie as escort. However willing, he did tend to be absentminded. Not that she imagined his lordship could have guessed her misgivings. She must be glad that his love for Alice joined with his natural kindness to make him so

solicitous for her family. "Allie, you have not told us about your grand party last night,” said Geoff. “Did you enjoy watching the toffs dancing?" "Indeed I had no opportunity. Everyone was so friendly and obliging that I had no leisure to observe." "Miss Alice danced every dance,” Lord Alton corroborated, “and had to disappoint a throng of admirers. I was fortunate to secure her company for supper. And if others were obliging—which is possible, I suppose—then she herself was the soul of benignity, for she would not stand up until her cousin was provided with a partner." Alice had not the least idea of the meaning of “benignity” but recognised a compliment when she heard one and blushed becomingly. "I am glad she was capable of thinking of others while enjoying herself,” said Hester approvingly. “I would wish her to have a kind heart more than any amount of social success. But I confess it is very gratifying to know you were so sought after, Allie." She would have liked to enquire whether her sister had found any of her partners especially attractive, but it did not seem tactful to do so in Lord Alton's presence. Alice was looking particularly fetching in a walking dress of canary yellow jaconet muslin trimmed with mull, all her own work from a fashion plate in Ackerman's Repository of Arts, and Hester wished she had seen her in her evening gown. Suddenly she felt dowdy in her old kerseymere round dress. She had never had time or inclination to hanker after finery, but now she wondered how she would look arrayed in the first stare of fashion. A tiny sigh escaped her unnoticed as she decided it would be wasted on her face and figure, even if the expense were not out of the question. Abandoning unprofitable daydreams, she joined in the general conversation in time to hear Jamie bemoan the fact that he and Geoff had nearly exhausted the respectable amusements of London. "Though I shall happily return to my books,” he added. “I have sadly neglected them this fortnight. But Geoffrey has not that occupation, and he can hardly do much gardening here." "I'm sure I shall contrive to amuse myself,” said Geoff shortly. “Just because I am not a swot doesn't mean—" Seeing Hester about to intervene to head off an incipient quarrel, Lord Alton broke in. "Geoff, I wish you will consider exercising my horses occasionally, and James also, of course. I have little time for riding at present, and my groom, Jerry, has been complaining that Jettison and Orangepeel grow fat and lazy and he is too busy—" "Why is it called Orangepeel?” demanded Robbie. “That's a funny name for a horse." "His dam was Orangeblossom and his sire Repeal. Blossom was my mother's horse. Jettison is really more interesting as a name. He is not named after his parents, but he is black as jet, and in early youth he had the unfortunate habit of throwing off anyone who had the temerity to mount him." Geoff and Jamie laughed, but Robbie had to have the joke explained to him. Even after this, Alice was left looking rather blank. "I hope he does not still behave so naughty,” she said anxiously. “Geoffrey might be hurt if he fell off." "No horse can throw me,” boasted Geoff unwisely. “Besides Lord Alton would scarcely keep in his

stable a horse with such a habit. May I really ride them, sir?" His lordship assured him that he would be doing a favour, while Hester began to wonder how she had ever contrived to manage her family without his assistance. It was an unwelcome thought. She was used to believing herself capable of bringing up her brothers and sisters by herself, and she might not count on his continued help if Alice rejected him. **** Tuesday proving fine, Susan departed in Lord Alton's curricle at nine o'clock in the morning, well wrapped in a fur rug and with a hot brick at her feet. Mr. Stevens had been warned of their coming, and they reached his cottage in time to partake of a nuncheon prepared by Ivy Hewitt. "And how's the leg, yer lordship?” she enquired. "It still hurts me when it is cold and damp,” he answered, anxious not to disappoint her. "Artheritus setting in. Be crippled afore yer forty, mark my words, just like Tom Black's cousin's ma.” To his relief, she did not also produce any young girls who had pined their way into the grave, though she did hurry Susan off to bed right after lunch. Mr. Stevens had heard all about his lordship's quarrel and reconciliation with the Godrics, and did not believe in raking over old coals. "It's kind o’ ye to bring our Sue down, m'lord,” he said. “Hester says ye've another errand, so I expect ye'll be on your way." "To tell the truth, my other errand was to you,” confessed Lord Alton. “I've come to tell you that I wish to marry Hester." The old man did not bat an eyelid. “Ye're asking my permission to court her?" "No, I'm afraid not. Informing you of my intentions, rather." "Hester's not said owt to me o’ this." "I've not said anything to her yet. You see, sir, she is used to looking on me as just another nursling. I must make her see me as a real person, as a man, before I can even begin to attempt to win her affection. Besides, I rather think she has an understanding with the Reverend Collingwood, so that I have a rival to consider." 'Ah,” said Mr. Stevens cryptically, “that's as may be. Well, lad, ask it or no, ye've my permission, which is more nor this Collingwood ever sought. ‘Tis little I saw o’ the young fella, but he struck me as a milk-and-water chap. Our Hester has a mind o’ her own, and it's my belief she'd do better wi’ a man o’ spirit. There, m'lord, ye've my vote along wi’ my permission. So now it's up to you to persuade the lass." "Thank you, sir. I'll do my best, I assure you. The thought of losing her does not bear contemplation." "I'll not push her, mind!" "I do not expect it. The knowledge of your support is all I wanted. Now, how about a game of draughts?" Lord Alton drove back to London that afternoon perfectly satisfied with his journey. ****

The sight-seeing excursion had to be put off when the weather changed abruptly. Thursday dawned grey and dreary, and by eight a light drizzle was falling, growing steadily heavier as the morning wore on. When Jerry arrived in Paddington with a note from his master suggesting postponement, Hester was disappointed. A little rain would not have stopped her, but she supposed it would not be very comfortable to be climbing in and out of a carriage with dripping clothes. She had been looking forward to seeing Alice and to meeting Cousin Sophie and George Charworthy. Now she wondered if they might venture out to take tea with her. She would not have presumed to invite them directly, especially Miss Bardry, whose mother so obviously disapproved of her, but perhaps Lord Alton might prevail upon them to join him in a visit. She dashed off a quick note to his lordship proposing the scheme, and assuring him that she would not take offence if he considered it ineligible. Promptly at three o'clock, the Alton town carriage drew up in the narrow village street. The earl and his nephew descended, bearing huge black umbrellas, and escorted the young ladies to the door. Robbie had been on the lookout, and before the knocker could be plied, he flung the door open. "Hello, Allie,” he said. “You look like a bird with all those feathers on your hat. Is that cousin Sophie?” Belatedly remembering his manners, he bowed as the visitors crowded into the cramped hallway. It became even more crowded as Hester, James, and Geoffrey arrived to greet the guests, and Bessie to see why there was such a hubbub when no one had summoned her to the door. Gradually the confusion was sorted out, introductions made, damp pelisses and greatcoats carried off to the kitchen to dry, and the two younger boys banished thither, to their mutual and outspoken disgust. The rest of the party repaired to the parlour, where a cheerful fire burned in the grate—a pleasant contrast to the wind-lashed rain beyond the window. The ladies were seated; Lord Alton placed himself firmly beside Hester; and Jamie took a hard chair against the wall between his sisters, where they might shelter him from the gaze of the alarmingly stylish young gentleman to whom he had scarcely been introduced. Mr. Charworthy found himself between his redoubtable uncle and his forbidden sweetheart, a veritable Scylla and Charybdis, though if he had ever heard of those perils of the Ancient World the impression had not been lasting. Philosophically, he took his seat and commenced sucking on the knob of his cane, his rather protuberant blue eyes firmly fixed on Miss Alice and Uncle David alternately, in accordance with his mother's instructions to watch their behaviour in each other's company. Since he had very little idea what he was looking for, and would have been unable to present a coherent report if he had observed anything worthy of note, he felt scarce a twinge of guilt when he found his gaze wandering to the face of his inamorata, where it presently fixed. A modest young man, George was fully aware of his own deficiencies in the area of the brain-box. He had been known to refer to himself in a fit of despondency as a “regular Jack-pudding.” It was a source of constant amazement and gratification to him that Sophie Bardry, who was certainly wide awake on every suit, should have taken a liking to him. They had known each other forever, as the Charworthy and Bardry estates in Staffordshire shared a boundary. Though three years his junior, she had often protected him from the starts of his younger brother, Terence, an enterprising youth of her own age. George had long admired her ability to deal with situations that left him floundering like a fish out of water, and if there was any fault to be found with her appearance, he was as unaware of it the sixth time his mama pointed it out as he had been the first. It had come as a shock when her debut had been postponed for a year in the vain hope that time and constant applications of Distilled Water of Green Pineapples might erase her deplorable freckles. He liked them. Though in general an obedient, not to mention docile, son, George had not intention of submitting forever

to his mama's frequently announced opposition to his choice of a wife. Now that Sophie had formally left the schoolroom behind her, he was biding his time, awaiting the appropriate moment to act. He hoped he would recognise it when it came. In the meantime, he listened admiringly as Sophie opened the conversation. "I am happy to have the opportunity of making your acquaintance, Miss Godric,” she declared. “Alice has told me so much about you." "Thank you, Miss Bardry,” said Hester, wondering just what Alice had disclosed. “I am glad your mama permitted you to visit me—though a little surprised, I confess." "Mama does not know,” the young lady admitted blushing. “I told her only that Alice and I were going out with Lord Alton and George. She was quite thrown into transports and did not think to ask where we were going. I have been determined to meet you this age." "Determined!” affirmed George with a nod. "My dear, I do not like you to deceive Lady Bardry." "She did not forbid me to see you, though truth to tell I believe that was because she never expected I might wish to do so. Mama does not know me very well. I am grateful to his lordship for bringing me here." George looked at his august uncle to see how he took this. Lord Alton was contemplating Alice, who was ravishing in a walking dress of rose Circassian cloth. "Grateful, Uncle,” George pointed out to him, afraid he had missed the comment. "My pleasure, George,” assured his lordship indulgently. In general he had little patience with his mutton-headed nephew, but he was prepared to put up with his asinine remarks so long as Lady Bardry was eager to push Sophie into his company. He wanted Hester to begin to feel at home in fashionable society, and though Miss Bardry was not precisely what he would have chosen, her manners and breeding were unexceptionable, and she had the advantage of being a close connexion. She would do for a start. Another point in George's favour was that Lady Ariadne ought to prove gratified by his sudden and belated interest in his heir, and her gratitude might with luck persuade her to receive Miss Godric with complaisance. That she would receive her in one way or another, and sooner or later, went without saying. But it would be much more comfortable for Hester if she did so with a good grace. He would have to invent some good reason for desiring her to take up Miss Godric. Once more his gaze settled, this time speculatively, on Alice. The germs of a plot began to take shape in his mind. Even George could not fail to be conscious of his lordship's abstraction and the way his eyes lingered on Miss Alice. So silent was David that Hester, who had noticed a slight limp as he entered, thought he must be in pain, and she revised her decision not to mention it to him for fear of embarrassing him. She waited for a moment when Jamie had entered the conversation, emboldened by Mr. Charworthy's monosyllables, and was describing to the young ladies a trial he had attended with Geoffrey at the Old Bailey. Turning to Lord Alton, she spoke in a low voice. "I am afraid your leg is not as well healed as we had hoped, sir. Is it very painful?" "It aches a little when the weather is cold and wet,” he admitted, “but nothing to signify. Mistress Ivy warned me, you know! I expect it would be the better for some of your grandfather's liniment, if I could

bring myself to submit to being sent to Coventry." "That is not at all necessary. I have discovered an embrocation which works almost as well and without any odour that might lead to the end of your social life. I shall have an apothecary make some up for you.” Hester surprised herself with a distressingly unladylike desire to rub the ointment into his injured limb with her own hands. Only to be certain it was properly applied, she assured herself hastily. She would see that his lordship's valet had precise instructions. Lord Alton noted her faint blush and wondered what had caused it. He was afraid that his accursed leg had negated all the progress he had made in removing himself from the number of her dependents. He thanked her and hurriedly changed the subject. "I hope you do not mean to cry off our excursion because of the delay. March is nearly here and the sun will surely show itself again soon. We must reschedule both the tour of London and Rob's river trip." "The season will soon be in full swing, will it not? You will have little time for such things, and you must not consider yourself obliged to carry out plans laid in a more leisurely hour." "Hester, you have a poor opinion of me if you think I break promises so easily. Besides, both outings offer far more amusement than another round of breakfasts, ridottos, card parties, and balls. I am shocked to realise that I have been on the town these ten years and more, and have never been on a Thames steamboat nor climbed the Monument. And I am sure you will agree with me that one's companions make all the difference to the enjoyment of any occasion." "Robbie was certainly very relieved that you did not mean to hand him over to a secretary." "Now that reminds me! How could I have forgotten? Bella and Barney asked me to convey to you an invitation to dine in Russell Square on Sunday. They generally ask a few close friends to take pot-luck. I shall be going and will be happy to fetch you and bring you home again." "David, I must not. You know I am determined to avoid entering society. If you will take me to see Mrs. Rugby one afternoon, I shall be vastly obliged, but not a dinner party.” Hester twisted her handkerchief in her agitated fingers. "My dear, I do understand your scruples. However, the Rugbys do not move in the same circles as your sister's aunt, and it is highly unlikely that you will meet anyone who is acquainted with her." "The circles must overlap. Indeed I know they do, for do not you belong to both?" "Only because Barney and Bella are such very good friends of mine. You must not become a hermit for Alice's sake. With her beauty and sweetness, she will do very well even should you proclaim from the rooftops that you are her sister." Hester smiled but was not convinced. His lordship decided it was time for stronger measures. "I shall pick you up at quarter past six,” he announced. “You will not wish to make me come all this way for nothing. If you are not ready, I shall carry you off as you are. Must I apply to James and Geoffrey for assistance in the abduction?" "No, my lord, I will come peaceably. You have me quaking in my shoes!" "You'll not gammon me, my girl. I misdoubt there is any man born could do that, nor woman neither." "Perhaps not. I am sadly lacking in sensibility."

'Which is just as well when Miss Alice has enough for two. I do not think it, though. Merely that you do not run shy." "I collect that is a compliment. Something to do with horses, I presume?" He grinned. “As you know very well. Does Geoffrey enjoy riding my cattle?" "Very much. He has been out every day, and Jamie once. I wish Geoff had some other occupation also. A boy his age needs to be kept busy, and he is not at all bookish like Jamie. I am afraid he will get into mischief. But I do not mean to bore you with an elder sister's fidgets." At that moment Mr. Charworthy startled everyone by pronouncing a complete sentence. "M'brother's bookish,” he told James. “Introduce you." 'An excellent idea, George,” approved his uncle heartily, leaving the young gentleman speechless once more. The visitors departed shortly thereafter, during a lull in the rain. Hester found herself with much to ponder, but Geoff and Robbie emerged from their exile in the kitchen, and for the rest of the evening she had no leisure. The next morning she reluctantly sat herself down in the parlour to see what she could make of her best evening gown, wishing Alice were there to advise and assist. It was of good quality, having been purchased before her father's death, but for that reason surely outmoded by now. She rather thought skirts were fuller this year. The blue satin slip with white lace overdress still fitted fairly well, and in any case a more classical style suited her slender figure better. A plethora of ruffles, bows, knots, and rouleaux appeared to be de rigueur, judging by Alice's and Sophie's dress, but she was inclined to think them fussy. She had just set her needle unwillingly to a small rent in the hem when she heard a carriage pull up in the street and the door knocker sound. To her surprise, an unknown female voice enquired for her. Bessie appeared. "There's a person to see you, miss. She won't give ‘er name." Preferring not to be found mending, Hester put down her sewing and went out to the hall. The “person” was a tall, generously proportioned woman of about thirty, with improbably yellow hair. Judging by the number of frills, ribbons, and flounces that decorated her mantle, she was dressed in the height of alamodality. Diamonds sparkled in her ears of such a size that even the unsuspicious Hester guessed that they must be paste. "Alas, Miss Godric!” she cried in a theatrical manner. “Yew dew not know me!" "I'm afraid not,” said Hester cautiously. "Ai am Mrs. Stevens. Ai am given to understand that my poor dear late husband's grandfather was own cousin to yours." It sounded to Hester like one of Ivy's stories; she could not help wondering what the poor dear late husband had died of. "How do you do, Mrs. Stevens,” she said. “I am happy to make the acquaintance of a relative, however

distant. Won't you come in?" "Oh, thenk you, Miss Godric! So kind! Ai had heard yew never turned away anybody in need.” Not giving Hester time to absorb this statement, let alone to wonder where she might have obtained such information, Mrs. Stevens rushed on. “Just a temporary difficulty, yew know. Alas, poor Ebenezer was not a thrifty man. Yew will say I should have learned to hold household, to be beforehand with the world. Yew are so raight, Miss Godric, so raight. But what can a poor widow do with nobody to advise her? It is low taide with me, Ai confess. Ai am but one step ahead of the bailiffs. Ai will turn to my dear cousin, Ai thought. She will not let me languish in the Marshalsea. Such a good-hearted young lady..." "I am very sorry, ma'am, but I fear I am quite unable to offer any ... pecuniary assistance. There are many claims on my purse, you understand, and—" "Did Ai ask it? Did Ai? No, never has Florabel Stevens begged for the ready, and never will! Ai am not yet drowning in the River Tick, Ai thenk yew! All Ai ask is a roof over my head, a bite to eat. Nobody could grudge me that! If Ai had the blunt to pay my rent, you'd not see me here on my knees before my own sweet cousin. Alas, alas, Ebenezer, could yew but see me now!” Mrs. Stevens flung herself on her knees and covered her eyes with a large spotted handkerchief. "You wish to stay here?” asked Hester, overwhelmed. “We really have very little space, but I suppose for a day or two, until you can find somewhere else. Jamie will have to squeeze in with the boys.” Even the compassionate and charitable Hester balked at sharing her room with this excessively dramatic creature. "My saviour! Angel of Mercy! thenk you, dear Cousin, thenk you, and my the Good Lord bless you as Ai dew." She enveloped Hester in a heavily perfumed embrace, pressing her to her expansive bosom. “My bags are in the hackney,” she added pragmatically. Leaving Hester half-smothered and half-stunned, she sailed out and ordered the driver to carry in her luggage. A trunk, two valises, a portmanteau, and several bandboxes soon filled the narrow entrance hall. "There!" declared Mrs. Stevens with satisfaction. “Now let's ‘ave a cuppa, dearie!"

Chapter 13 James had been out with Geoffrey, exercising Jettison and Orangepeel in spite of the rain, when Mrs. Florabel Stevens appropriated his chamber. On his return, he was disgusted to find himself once more forced to share a room with his brothers. However, knowing his sister, and rather overawed by the unwanted guest's histrionics, he made only a token protest. "It's only for a few days, dearest,” Hester assured him hopefully. “Cousin Florabel is sure she will find somewhere else to stay very soon. And she is a relative, after all." It was on the tip of Jamie's tongue to retort that she was no relative of his, but he bit back the remark, realising in time how unkind it would be. When Geoff made a similar comment, fortunately not in Hester's hearing, he subjected his brother to a severe scolding. Geoffrey left the house in a miff. Mrs. Stevens proved useful in one way. Seeing Hester struggling with the repairs to her evening gown, she said condescendingly that she was not above a bit of stitchery herself. She proceeded to finish the mending and perform one or two subtle alterations that made it fit to perfection. Her tiny, neat stitches accorded so ill with her overblown appearance and addiction to dramatic gestures that Hester was moved to exclaim over them. "Used to work for a mantua-maker, luv,” revealed Florabel, adding hastily, “before Ai met Mr. Stevens, that is." **** Robbie found Aunt Florabel fascinating, but by the time Lord Alton came to fetch Hester on Sunday evening, she was prepared to do anything to escape from the house. It had continued to rain heavily in the interim, giving her new relation an excellent excuse for not seeking another dwelling and preventing the almost-daily drives with his lordship, which she had come to look forward to as a regular routine. In fact, his lordship had not called for three days, and by four o'clock on Sunday Hester was beginning to wonder if she had imagined the invitation. She changed her dress early and sat in the parlour to wait, on tenterhooks at every sound in the street. To her relief, Cousin Florabel did not put in an appearance. The thought of having to introduce her to Lord Alton had been oppressing her all day. At six fifteen precisely, the town carriage drew up outside, and his lordship was admitted by Bessie. As he entered the parlour, Hester rose to greet him, a smile of welcome on her lips. He had never before seen her so elegantly dressed. Her hair shone in the soft candlelight; her grey eyes lifted to his face, read admiration, and lowered in confusion while a soft blush coloured her cheeks. He wanted to crush her in his arms. He had loved her in her shabby, workaday dresses and had been prepared to face the world to defend his choice. Now she looked every inch a Lady of Quality, a fitting bride for a Peer of the Realm. Let anyone dare criticise her now! Bowing deeply over her hand, he raised it to his lips. "Madam,” he said, “you are ravishing. I find myself unwilling to share you tonight." Her eyes glinted with amusement. “I protest, sir,” she answered lightly. “Should you not rather wish to show me off to your friends?" "Alas, I must resign myself.” Taking his cue from her, he dropped into a bantering tone. “Cruel etiquette

demands that we spend the evening making banal conversation with dull people." "I am sure the Rugbys’ friends are not dull, and whatever you think of your own conversation, it is most discourteous in you to describe mine as banal!" "Vixen! Come, let me help you on with your wrap. It has stopped raining, but there is a chilly wind.” As he settled her pelisse about her shoulders, he had to restrain himself from kissing the nape of her neck, left bare and strangely vulnerable by the upswept braids of her hair. He had to remind himself sternly that a false move at this stage could only lead to the withdrawal of her trust. At first they chatted comfortably while the coachman drove east along the New Road. Then they turned down Gower Street, and Hester's responses grew abstracted until, as they entered Russell Square, she fell silent. As the horses pulled up, she laid her hand on his sleeve. "David, I haven't attended a dinner party in three years,” she said with a tremor in her voice. He covered her hand with his own. “Then it is high time you did so. You were used to acting as hostess for your father, were you not? It is much easier to be a guest, and Barney's friends are not at all alarming, I assure you. Nor is it a formal affair. Chin up, little one; you are looking beautiful." Reassured, she accepted his help in descending from the carriage. His brotherly kindness made her feel that perhaps it would not be so very dreadful if he married Alice. Surely in time she would learn to overcome her foolishness and appreciate him as a sister ought. Mr. and Mrs. Rugby greeted Hester as an old friend and soon made her feel at home. Most the guests were fellow lawyers and their wives, along with a couple of Members of Parliament and an elderly banker who was Barney's uncle and had a vast fund of amusing anecdotes about his youth in the East India Company. She soon saw that Lord Alton stood on the easiest terms with these people whom so many of his class would have stigmatised as cits. However, arriving under his aegis, she herself was treated with the deference due to a member of the Haut Ton. In response, she found herself remembering all her stepmother's careful instruction and bore herself with a well-bred ease of manner that concealed her shyness and led Mrs. Pemberton to remark approvingly to Mrs. Rose, “Miss Godric is all affability, is not she? Not the least hint of condescension. A proper lady, Mrs. Rose, as his lordship is a proper gentleman. Do you suppose..." "Just watch the way his eyes follow her, Mrs. Pemberton. No doubt about it, no doubt at all.” The two matrons nodded wisely to each other. Lord Alton had not thought it possible to be more in love, but by the end of the evening he had to admit that it was so. With astonished admiration, he discovered that his tousled, blackberry-stained darling could, on demand, equal with ease the elegant demeanour of the grandest duchess. It was obvious to him that these middle-class, well-to-do citizens, always quick to resent any attempt by one of their own number to put on airs, accepted her as a lady born and bred. He himself knew more than one lady of impeccable antecedents who had not half her countenance. "It was not so very bad, was it?” he queried in the coach on their return. "I enjoyed it immensely,” she confessed sleepily. “Everyone was so very kind. I do think Bella and Barney are the dearest people." "They are. Bella expressed a wish to see you more often. You will not object if she calls on you?" Hester was about to declare her delight at the prospect when a horrid vision rose before her of

introducing Cousin Florabel. “She must not put herself to the trouble, in her condition,” she said quickly. “I can very well take a hackney to Russell Square." "I would offer to drive you, but I am sure the pair of you will not often wish for the intrusion of a mere male. If you intend to walk or take a hackney, I beg you will have your maid accompany you." "If you think it necessary,” she assented with drowsy docility. “I expect Bessie will consider it a holiday." Having proved Hester's enjoyment of society, Lord Alton was determined to persuade her to widen her self-imposed limits. In this he was assisted by Mrs. Stevens. Cousin Florabel showed no sign of intending to remove from the little house in Paddington, though she frequently declared her determination to do so. She had entrenched herself so firmly as to develop a regular routine, and this came to rule the habits of the entire household. In the morning she would sleep till midday. Before rising, she took chocolate in her chamber, and then descended below stairs to ensconce herself in the parlour for the afternoon. If anyone was present, she would talk nonstop about the late Ebenezer Stevens, his great position in society, and the wonderful life she had led as his spouse. Left to herself, she had more than once been surprised sleeping. At six or so, Florabel would return to her chamber, where she spent the better part of two hours arraying herself in one of her enormous collection of shockingly décolleté gowns in a variety of lurid colours which, she assured Hester, were excessively fashionable. At eight, rouged and beribboned, she would send Bessie or one of the boys to summon a hackney, in which she departed in solitary splendour, not to return until the early hours of the morning. The only departure from this daily pattern was on Sundays, when she generally went out in the afternoon and spent the evening at home. After she had been with the Godrics for a month, she altered her habits to the extent that the hackney was replaced by an ever-changing series of gentlemen, who picked her up in vehicles ranging from an old-fashioned landau to a high-perch phaeton drawn by a pair of horses that had Geoffrey breathless with admiration. Mrs. Stevens, it seemed, had a great many acquaintances. Hester's response to this schedule was to hurry through her household chores every morning, give Robbie his lessons, and be ready to leave the house no more than an hour after Florabel's descent. At first she had to fabricate occasional excuses, but she soon found occupation enough. Twice a week she went to see Bella Rugby, with whom she was soon on terms of the utmost intimacy. Once a week she felt it her duty to stay at home and listen to her cousin's rambling conversation. And three times a week, Lord Alton miraculously appeared with plans for her entertainment, besides which he brought Alice to see her every Sunday afternoon and escorted Hester to the Rugbys’ almost every Sunday evening. He had encountered Cousin Florabel briefly, and privately deplored Hester's softheartedness in bearing with her, but did not feel it was his place to intervene. So constant was his lordship's attendance that Hester was at times almost tempted to believe he was pursuing her, and not Alice. A moment's reflexion sufficed to quell such wishful thoughts. Alice was her superior in beauty and in birth. Her disposition was sweetly docile; no managing female she. And she was not responsible for the welfare of a large family. Totting up these points, Hester wondered how she could even dream of the possibility of Lord Alton returning her affection. Besides, his lordship had developed the habit of attending many of the same parties as Alice, of dancing with her, keeping an eye on her partners, and reporting on her success and pretty behaviour to her sister. Hester could not guess that his only intention was to set her mind at rest. It was one such occasion that Lord Alton felt himself obliged to disclose a disturbing situation. March, having come in like a lion, was going out like a lamb. He was driving Hester in his curricle as far as

Richmond Park, taking advantage of the balmy air, and they had just finished discussing plans for the long-delayed tour of the sights of London. "Wednesday it is, then,” he decided, and was silent for a moment, wondering how to phrase his warning. “Hester, I hope you will not think me interfering, and I do not wish to alarm you, but I must tell you that I am a little concerned about Alice. She is become the object of the most particular attentions on the part of a gentleman (though I hesitate to use the word) whose reputation is far from savoury. You know how she is too good-natured even to contemplate depressing the aspirations of any of her admirers. But Rathwycke is a dangerous man, and I wish you will advise her to be on her guard." "Sir Hubert Rathwycke? I thought him a friend of yours." "An acquaintance merely. He is wealthy and is received everywhere, in spite of behaviour which I should not dream of recounting to a lady." "You need not,” said Hester grimly. “It was he who ruined Grace Collingwood. But Alice is in a very different position. Surely you do not think..." "In general he confines his libertinage to the lower classes and conducts himself unexceptionably in society. However, I have never seen him devote himself to a debutante as he now does to Alice, and I think it extremely unlikely that he is hanging out for a wife. Also, it now occurs to me that he has perhaps discovered Alice's role in preserving his b ... his child. I believe him to be a vengeful man who would not take kindly to interference in his affairs. Do you think he might know?" "I cannot say that it is impossible, though it seems unlikely. You mean that he might intend mischief on that account? It is hard to see how he could made an attempt on Alice's virtue while she is under the protection of Sir Humphrey and Lady Bardry." "Perhaps I refine too much upon a simple flirtation, but I wish you will have a word with your sister." "Well, I must say I had rather she did not associate with such persons. I will tell her to be on her guard, but unless you consider it essential, I shall not mention Grace. I never mentioned Rathwycke's name to anyone but Jamie. It would upset Allie dreadfully, and I daresay she might burst into tears every time she saw him." "That would be unfortunate, though she does weep charmingly." Hester, only too aware that her eyes reddened if she so much as thought of crying, made haste to admire the view, and then remembered to enquire after her protégé, Albert the ex-sweep. His lordship assured her that he had taken a new lease on life as a stableboy, and asked to be “remembered” to her at every opportunity. He silently wished Mistress Florabel would prove as easy to dispose of to everyone's satisfaction. Wednesday's sight-seeing was a great success. Mr. Charworthy was once more moved to utter a complete sentence. "Never thought it would be half so jolly looking at ruins,” he pronounced. Since they were at that moment gazing at the impressive portico of the Mansion House, official residence of the Lord Mayor of London and scarce sixty-five years old, the others went into whoops. George was not at all offended. "You are a dear,” said Miss Bardry, and boldly kissed his cheek.

At the end of the tour of London, Hester managed to speak privately to Alice. She delivered a necessarily vague warning against encouraging the attentions of Sir Hubert Rathwycke. “Do you particularly like him?” she asked anxiously, remembering that Grace had found him fascinating. "He is very agreeable. Everyone is very agreeable, but I do wish John ... Mr. Collingwood were here. He writes that he cannot come until the middle of May. Little John will be over a year old by the time we can be married." "You have not yet found anyone to replace Mr. Collingwood in your affections? You were used to be so volatile, my dear, that almost I think I shall be compelled to let you have him." "Do not speak so, Hester. You have no notion what it is to be truly in love. If it were not for his letters, I should be wholly miserable." "It is not at all what your mama wanted for you. I suppose I should not have permitted you to write to each other, only I did not think it could last. How I wish he had never come to Henley; then you would be perfectly happy by now in the arms of a nobleman, or at least a man of fortune. When I think of the opportunity you are throwing away, I declare I cannot understand you at all." Alice flounced away. **** Between devising amusements for Hester's afternoons, Lord Alton managed to find time to take Robbie on the Thames. He had the brilliant notion of inviting his nephew Frederick along, and after a wary sizing-up the two boys decided to be friends. Uncle David was amazed at the way Freddy blossomed when not in the repressive presence of his mother. Subdued at first, he was quick to follow Robbie's lead and soon became equally enthused over the precise identification of every piece of shipping in the busy river. A friendly deckhand was soon enlisted in the cause, leaving his lordship to regard the passing scenery in peace and to wonder whether Hester would enjoy a river trip to Greenwich. Not, of course, on a steamer belching filthy smoke accompanied by a deafening clatter and roar, but a wherry or perhaps a yacht would be pleasant. All too soon for Robbie, the adventure was over, and they were delivering his new friend in Charles Street. Lord Alton rang the bell. "Thank you very much, sir,” said Frederick, still somewhat in awe of his hitherto daunting uncle. A sudden daring idea crossed his mind. “Could we ... do you suppose Rob could come up, just for a minute, to the schoolroom? I have a book of sailing ships he would like to see. Please, sir?" The door opened, and Lord Charworthy's imposing butler appeared. Lord Alton was suddenly aware that not only were the boys decidedly grimy, but his own fashionable raiment was also spotted with soot. "Good afternoon, my lord,” pronounced the butler, bowing. “Perhaps Master Frederick had better slip up the back stairs quick before her ladyship returns.” His usually stately tone was positively conspiratorial. "Thank you, Mumford,” returned his lordship gratefully. “Master Robert will go with him for a few minutes, and come to think of it, so will I. I cannot sit in the drawing room in this state." They found themselves staying for nursery tea, over which Lord Alton made the acquaintance of Freddy's tutor, a frustrated young man who spent his time trying to soften his mistress's harsh dictates. Robbie was on his best behaviour, and after tea Mr. Wallace, the tutor, asked whether the boy might be

able to join them occasionally on their afternoon walks in Green Park. “I could send a footman or a groom to fetch him,” he assured Lord Alton. His lordship, sure that Hester would be happy to wean Robbie from the urchins of Paddington, and himself delighted to introduce her brother into his sister's household even without her knowledge, agreed promptly, and, persuading his young friend against one more cake, took him home. James Godric had already been introduced to Mr. Terence Charworthy by George. To the general astonishment of the family, Terence had outgrown a youthful talent for devilry and become a scholar with a genuine love of the classics. He was a year older than Jamie, but little further advanced in his studies, having missed a year of school due to a dangerous inflammation of the lungs, from which he was still recovering. The two youths were different in so many ways that Lord Alton, hopeful that they would like each other, had been very unsure of the outcome. James was the eldest son of an impoverished gentleman, used to responsibility but shy, and in spite of his leanness a thoroughly healthy lad. Terence was a semi-invalid still, yet as the second son of a peer, he was a self-assured, carefree young man. Whether it was the attraction of opposites or simply their mutual interest, the two were soon inseparable. Lady Ariadne—who, having once laid down the law, was as uninterested in her children as her mother had been—was quite unaware of her younger sons’ new friendships. Without any overt conspiracy, everyone in the know seemed to avoid mentioning the matter in her hearing. For the moment, Lord Alton was content to have it thus. This was the situation, then, when one evening at about six o'clock, his lordship was enticed forth from his library by a commotion in the hallway. At first he could see nothing but the backs of his butler and the two footmen flanking him. "What is going on, Harding?” he asked in his pleasantest voice. The footmen quailed and drew back. Their master did not often cut up stiff, but when he did, the explosion was invariably preceded by just that conversational tone. Harding, made of sterner stuff, turned to explain the disturbance. Beyond him stood a pair of truculent constables, and between them they half-supported and half-restrained a stripling with one eye closed by a swelling that was already purpling, and blood streaming from his nose. It was Geoffrey. "Help me, sir!” he cried, starting forward, and fell in a dead faint at his lordship's feet.

Chapter 14 "Be this young ‘un yer ward, my lord?” demanded one of the officers of the law, disbelievingly. “That be wot ‘e claims." "Certainly,” replied his lordship, with what he considered remarkable coolness under the circumstances. “Harding, have Master Geoffrey carried above stairs and cleaned up. I shall be with you shortly. Now my good man, what is all this fracas about?" "Werl, don't know as it be needful to tell ifn yer lordship's ‘is guardian right enough." "Come, officer, I must know what my young charge has been up to. I gather that you do not intend to prosecute, but I shall certainly have to see that nothing of the sort occurs again." "Disturbin’ o’ the peace,” broke in the other constable, an elderly man with a huge cavalry mustache hiding most of his face. "Started a turn-up at the Cock Pit, din e'. ‘Ot to ‘and, that young ‘un, my lord." "Needs ter be broke ter bridle, if yer asks me,” announced the voice from behind the mustache. “An’ it's my belief ‘e were ‘arf squiffy. Shot the cat, if yer knows what I means, my lord." "No need to bring charges ifn yer lordship'll be responsible, that right, Bert?" Lord Alton discreetly pressed a sovereign into each waiting palm and promised to speak severely to Master Geoffrey. Harding, having seen the footmen carry the lad above stairs and having called the housekeeper and my lord's valet, had returned to usher out the cooperative constables. Lord Alton took the stairs two at a time. "Is he all right?” he queried, entering the bedchamber where Geoff was laid flat on his back, breathing stertorously. "Certainly, my lord,” his housekeeper informed him indulgently. ‘A black eye and a bloody nose. Nothing you didn't have yourself as a boy." "And gin on his breath, my lord!” added Southwell, casting a shocked glance at his fellow servant. After twelve years in his lordship's service, he was still primly horrified by the occasional familiarities of Mrs. Peabody and the groom, Jerry, both of whom had known Lord Alton since he was in leading strings. His lordship breathed a sigh of relief. He had half-expected that Geoffrey might get up to some mischief or other, though he had not anticipated anything quite so spectacular. He blamed himself. The boy was high-spirited and used to hard work, and here he had been left to kick his heels for close to two months amid all the temptations of the metropolis. And all the while, Alton Court was sorely in need of just such an enthusiastic, industrious young man to learn the business of estate management before old Denton grew too infirm to teach him. No more hesitations and tactical delays; he would speak to Geoff in the morning, and if he liked the idea, then Hester and Jamie must be persuaded that not only was the post perfect for their brother, but he was perfect for the post. "If I might made so bold, my lord,” ventured the valet, “who is the young gentleman? He looks somewhat familiar to me, but Mrs. Peabody vows she has never set eyes on him before."

"You saw him in Henley, Southwell, when you and Jerry came to fetch me. He is Geoffrey Godric, whose family took me in when I broke my leg.” The valet exchanged a quick glance with the housekeeper, full of understanding. Their master, regarding with mingled amusement and exasperation the battered face on the pillow, did not notice. “He'll not come to any harm if we leave him alone, will he, Peabody? Southwell, look in on him occasionally, if you please. I must write a note to his sister at once, and then I will change for whatever occasion I have committed myself to this evening. I hope you remember whither I am bound. I really must find a secretary one of these days." When Geoffrey awoke the next morning, he had only the haziest memory of the events that had led to his arrival in Hanover Square. With the resilience of youth, he bounced out of bed. The gin that the perspicacious valet had detected on his breath had had no lasting effect, but his nose was tender to the touch, and when he looked in the mirror he was faced with quite the most spectacular shiner he had ever seen. A five-inch circle around his left eye was yellowish-black with an interesting tinge of green. Now, how had he come by that, and how was he going to explain it to Hester? Seeking inspiration, he let his gaze wander idly round the room. If this was how Lord Alton lived, it was something like! He noticed a bell-pull by the bed, and after a moment's hesitation pulled it. Half an hour later, having exchanged his lordship's nightshirt for his own cleaned and pressed clothes, he was ushered into a pleasantly sunny room redolent of ham and toasted muffins. Lord Alton looked up from the Times as he entered and was unable to suppress a wince at the sight of that eye. "Good morning, sir,” said Geoffrey. “I daresay you are wondering—" "Not at the breakfast table. I never wonder at breakfast. You may make your confession at a later date. Pray do not let the prospect spoil your appetite." Geoff was still eating when his host left the breakfast room, but he soon joined him in the library. "I'm very sorry, sir,” he said. “I know I must have behaved disgracefully, but to tell the truth, I don't remember much." "The constable mentioned the Cock Pit, and my man seemed to think you might have been ... ah, a trifle inebriated." Recollection came flooding back. “That's right! I never meant to go to the cockfighting at all. I was in a tavern nearby, the Cross Keys I think, and I had a mug of ale with some fellows there. Then one of them said I should try Blue Ruin, and he bought me a glass. I thought it was a kind of ale. It was not, was it?" "Gin." "I was afraid it might be when I tasted it. But they would not let me leave it. Then they all went on to the Cock Pit, and I could not tell them I did not approve, could I? It was dreadful. Not so much the fight, though that was bad enough. One of the trainers was angry with his bird because it would not attack, and he was doing the most awful things to it. I cannot bear to remember it. When he would not stop, I hit him." "Doubtless he was twice your size,” sighed his lordship. “Pluck to the backbone and quite crack-brained. Knowing your sister, I might have guessed that some quixotic quirk must have led to your revolting appearance last night." "Aren't you going to ring a peal over me?” asked Geoff cautiously. "I feel that your punishment has already been adequate to the offence. I cannot find it in me to blame your

action, except that is excessively vulgar to brangle and brawl with the lower classes, and you should not have been in the tavern in the first place. I have told Miss Godric that you are here with me, but I shall tell her no more, and I require you to hold your tongue, which I know to be no easy matter." "Of course I shall, sir,” said Geoff with dignity. “Only I must tell her something when she sees this eye." "She will not see it. Geoffrey, I have a proposition to lay before you that will keep you out of further mischief.” His lordship proceeded to explain his scheme to train Geoff as his agent. Geoff was incredulous. “You can't mean it, sir. I am by far too young." "I have seen how you kept a large garden in order by the sweat of your own brow. Do you not think yourself capable of learning to run an estate? It will be several years yet before Denton retires, but he needs an assistant immediately. I know no one I had rather employ." "I can do it. I'll do it! I'll make you glad you chose me, sir, wait and see!" "I'm sure you will. In the meantime, you will post down to Hampshire today to look around, and you will not return until your face is fit to be viewed by a gentle female. I shall tell Hester you are gone to discover whether Alton Court is worthy of your attentions before you commit yourself. I engage myself to convince her and James of the wisdom of your decision. Now ring the bell, if you please. No, do not thank me. I am merely taking advantage of your need to remove yourself from town!" **** Any lingering misgivings Hester and Jamie may have felt were dismissed when Geoffrey returned to Paddington a week later, bubbling with enthusiasm. Alton Court was the finest house in the world, the land the richest possible, well-wooded and well-watered, the cornfields beginning to green in the April sun. He might lodge with Mr. and Mrs. Denton, and Hester need not fear that he would starve, for Mrs. Denton was a famous cook. "Not as good as you, of course,” he said judiciously. “Just in the simple style, you know. And you should see the horses! I may ride whenever I have time." Three days later, he had packed his bags and left. **** The house would have seemed very empty after he left if it had not been for Cousin Florabel. Every time Hester approached the subject of her departure, she collapsed in floods of tears and vowed she would die in debtors’ prison. Hester was not proof against such tactics, though she berated herself for a hen-hearted craven. Lord Alton would have been more than happy to eject the self-declared widow, but Hester's pride forbade her requesting his aid, and he did not feel it was his place to intervene unasked. So Florabel stayed, and his lordship exerted himself to remove his beloved from the house during those hours when the unwanted guest was about. To this end, he decided it was time to tackle his sister. In the hope of killing two birds with one stone, he approached her in a roundabout fashion. "I've been speaking to young Terence,” he opened without preliminaries. “The boy is worried that his studies are not advancing. I wish to hire a secretary, and I have an excellent young man in view." "I fail to see the connexion,” pronounced Lady Ariadne severely.

"I do not at present require his services full-time. If he were to teach my nephew a couple of hours a day, I should feel justified in engaging him now against future need. I should of course pay his entire salary." Lady Ariadne was persuaded to assent, though she was uncertain whether her brother was doing her a favour or vice versa. She dismissed such idle speculation from her mind. "It is most gratifying that you are at last taking your family responsibilities seriously,” she informed him. “George tells me you invited him to make one of a party to Vauxhall Gardens last night. It was no more than due to him as your heir, of course. He mentioned a Miss Godric: Miss Alice Godric's half sister, I believe. It is curious that I have not heard Lady Bardry speak of her." Little did she realise how she was delivering herself into his hands. Hearing her maliciously triumphant tone, he knew that she had somehow ferreted out Hester's background. It seemed possible that her desire to annoy her intimate friend might be stronger than her exaggerated ideas of what was due to her own consequence. Throwing caution and his careful but complicated plans to the winds, he decided to concentrate on that aspect. "Miss Godric's grandfather was in trade, as were the progenitors of so many members of present-day society, and Lady Bardry is ashamed of the connexion. She does not wish it known. I daresay she would be thrown into high fidgets if she supposed Miss Godric might enter the Fashionable World. She is a well-bred young woman, and I am heartily sorry for her. Miss Alice does not like to see her so isolated." Lady Ariadne had her own opinion of her brother's predilection for the company of Miss Alice. To be sure, the girl was very different from his usual flirts, but her only attraction was her beauty, and her ladyship had little fear that he would be brought to the church door by such a bird-witted widgeon as she had discovered Alice to be. He would soon tire of her, but in the meantime might she not seize the opportunity to put Lady Bardry to the blush? "Good breeding, you say,” she murmured thoughtfully. “I shall invite her to my musicale on Friday week." "An excellent notion,” agreed Lord Alton coolly. He felt as if he had landed a salmon while fishing for trout. Hester was astonished to receive an engraved card of invitation from Lord and Lady Charworthy to hear Miss Corn and Mr. Welsh perform operatic duets accompanied upon the pianoforte by Mr. C. Potter. Not unnaturally, she immediately jumped to the conclusion that this was Lord Alton's doing. "Not a bit of it,” he denied when she taxed him with it. “Entirely my sister's idea, though she did mention it to me." "I cannot possibly go. I expect Lady Bardry will be there, and besides, I have nothing to wear." Wisely, his lordship concentrated on the second problem, which was much easier to overcome. "I took the liberty of consulting Alice on the subject,” he told her smugly. “She has already begun to alter a suitable gown, and she assures me there is no difficulty, because you are much slighter than she. She will bring it for final adjustments on Sunday." "Alice needs all her dresses!" "You cannot expect her to continue to wear the same ones forever. It would present a very odd appearance, I assure you. On a different person, it will seem like a different gown. There, surely I have demolished your objections."

"But I do not even like opera!" "Nor do three-quarters of the people who will attend. I daresay it will be a very dull evening, though Ariadne always provides an excellent supper, I'll give her that." "I should not go. Only how can I offend your sister by declining? It is excessively kind in her to invite me. Shall ... shall you be there?" "I? Why, I had hoped to escort you. I'd not leave you to face the dragon alone. Unless you have another cavalier waiting hidden in the wings?" "You know I do not, but surely there are other ladies who have more claim upon you than I." "Nary a one!” he assured her cheerfully. “Now, write a note of acceptance, and I will deliver it to Charles Street myself." He was on the point of departing when Robbie came in. “Good morning, sir,” he greeted his lordship. "Good morning, Rob. Have you been seeing much of Frederick lately?" "Oh yes, sir, nearly every day." "And his manners are no end improved,” put in Hester. "Mr. Wallace makes me mind. I shan't see them today, though. Jamie promised to take me to the docks. I asked if Freddy could come, but he said one thatchgallows brat at a time was more than enough, and he did not like to ask Mr. Wallace to come too." "If you and James are ready, I am going to White's and will set you on your way." "In your curricle? Thank you, sir!" **** Lord Alton dropped the boys at the end of St. James’ Street, informed his groom that he would walk home, and headed for his club. He had spent very little time at White's recently, having better things to do than to exchange scandalous gossip and lay wagers on his own and others’ skill at riding, driving, shooting, or boxing. His purpose today was to consult a fellow member about the young man he intended to employ as his secretary. But after his business was successfully concluded, he found himself drawn into conversation with a number of friends and acquaintances. None of them found it necessary to inform him that his own name at present figured prominently in the Betting Book. His changed habits had convinced the most cautious gamblers that he was in the market for a wife; the only questions were when and to whom he would get riveted. This last had everyone in a puzzle, for Alice Godric was hardly eligible, yet he seemed to favour no one else. While his lordship was fending off the good-natured inquisitiveness of his erstwhile companions, James and Robbie had reached the East End and the dockyards. They lunched on a couple of meat pies purchased from a street vendor, and then wandered along the river looking at the shipping, Robbie in ecstasies, Jamie with increasing boredom. By the time they reached the East India Docks, half the afternoon had passed. Rob's enthusiasm was no whit diminished, while James was wishing he had allowed his brother to pester Lord Alton into taking him. "You go ahead and look,” he proposed. “I'm going to sit on this bollard for a while.” Mindful of his

promise to Hester, he watched Robbie's every move, but gradually his thoughts wandered to a difficult bit of translation he and Terence had both had trouble with. He pulled a battered copy of Plato's Republic from his pocket and was soon immersed in the intricacies of Greek grammar. His attention did not return to nineteenth-century England until he was addressed by a grinning workman. "'At yer bruvver?” asked the brawny fellow, waving a tattooed arm at an East India clipper that was pulling slowly out of the dock under half-sail. “Got a yen fer furrin parts, ‘as ‘e?" Jamie shaded his eyes and stared. Sure enough, there at the rail was Rob, jumping up and down and shouting something that was borne away unheard on the breeze. Leaping to his feet, James ran to the water's edge. “Stop, stop!” he shouted in horror. "Can't ‘ear yer. Gotta catch ‘igh tide anyways. Boun’ fer Calcutta, she be!” The docker laughed so hard he was quite unable to answer any questions. With a sinking heart, Jamie watched the ship reach the middle of the river and carry his brother slowly but inexorably downstream. Not even Geoff s tavern brawl had been as bad as this. Never, never could he face Hester again. For a moment he considered stowing away on the next Calcutta-bound vessel and following Rob. Then he squared his thin shoulders and decided that would be thoroughly irresponsible. Not that he could think of any other course of action, until through the blank despair in his mind crept a memory. "Should you find yourself in difficulties of any kind in London,” Mr. Fairfax had said, “I wish you will bring them to me..." His lordship had surely not envisaged anything like this, but there was nowhere else to turn. Now frantic with haste, James hunted up a shabby hackney and ordered the driver to make all possible speed to St. James’ Street. All possible speed turned out to be a gentle amble. James noticed that they were proceeding with extreme sloth, but he considered it just another aspect of the nightmare he was living through, that not uncommon sensation that whatever one does, one cannot move at more than a snail's pace. It did not occur to him that he could have walked faster. He just sat numbly until the creaking vehicle clattered to a halt in front of White's. Jumping down, he thrust his last half sovereign into the grimy paw of the driver and ran up the steps. "I must speak to Lord Alton!” he cried to the porter. That worthy had seen gentlemen carried out in every stage of inebriation. He had even, God save the day, seen Viscount Pillington dashing for shelter with a large rip in the seat of his unmentionables after an altercation with Sir Hugh Lodram's mastiff. But never before had a stripling arrived in a seedy hackney and tarry breeks and demanded to speak to one of the august members of his club. "I do not believe his lordship is within,” he said, his voice vibrating with disapproval. “Kindly remove yourself from my steps." "It is a matter of life and death!” insisted James frantically. The porter considered using the toe of his boot to enforce his request, but the young man's urgency gave him pause. Better safe than sorry. It would be the work of a moment to send a page to his lordship with the name. If the earl denied him, he could still toss the youth out, and with added satisfaction; if not, his lordship was a generous man with a vail for extra service.

To the porter's considerable surprise, the Earl of Alton was apparently acquainted with Young Tarry Breeks, and was sufficiently desirous of speaking with him to desert his friends, take the lad's arm, and walk him up the street. Not, fortunately, without first slipping a half crown to the discerning individual who had had the wit to call him in spite of his guest's disreputable appearance. "What is it, Jamie?” demanded his lordship in a resigned undertone. The street was full of loungers, and from the bow window of his club three or four dandies languidly inspected the passersby. "I've lost Robbie, sir.” James had difficulty forcing his voice past the lump in his throat. “He went off on a Calcutta clipper when I wasn't looking. I didn't know what to do." "Calm down and explain yourself, James. You mean he stowed away?" "I don't think so. You see..." By the time they reached Hanover Square, Lord Alton was in possession of the entire story. Twenty minutes later, having sent Jamie to make his apologies and explanations to Hester, he galloped east toward Gravesend. Most ships stopped there to take on water, supplies, and passengers, and no captain wanted an unexpected eight-year-old aboard, particularly one as full of gig as young Master Godric. He found Robbie in the taproom of the Tilbury Arms. He was absorbed in a fascinating conversation with the barmaid and a retired sailor with a wooden leg, all about the ships that had been wrecked in the Thames estuary during the past four centuries. Though quite pleased to see Lord Alton, he was reluctant to leave his new friends and their wonderful stories. He was fast asleep by the time they reached Paddington. James rushed out of the house as Jettison's hooves clattered on the cobbles. Rob did not wake when his lordship passed him down to his brother. "Thank you, sir,” mumbled Jamie, his voice almost suspended by manfully repressed tears. “Hester is preparing a meal for you." "Was she very distressed?” asked Lord Alton, swinging down from his mount and tying the reins to a railing. He stroked Jettison's black nose and gave him a lump of sugar. "She was very angry with me. I deserve everything she said and more. But she was not worried, once I told her you were going after him. She said going to you was the only sensible thing I had done, and she was sure Rob was safe if you were on your way to rescue him." With these words as sauce, his lordship had never enjoyed a better supper.

Chapter 15 At Lord Alton's request, Jamie went to see him the next morning in Hanover Square. He had spent a restless night pondering his sins and was still in a penitent mood that made him almost eager to accept any punishment his lordship might consider suitable. Not once did it cross his mind that Lord Alton was not his mentor and had no right whatever to criticise his conduct. To his surprised relief, he found himself being offered the chance of sharing Terence's lessons with his lordship's new secretary There was one condition—that he should put away his books at other times. "We cannot have you making a regular habit of losing Robbie,” said his lordship with a twinkle in his eye. "Oh no, sir, I promise.” Jamie paused, suddenly ill at ease, then made up his mind to go on. “You ... you're doing this for Hester, aren't you? I sometimes think maybe you are in ... you are fond of her?" Lord Alton had not expected this schoolboy with his head buried in his books to be capable of so shrewd an observation. He was in a quandary. It accorded ill with his dignity to admit his passion to a callow youth, especially when he was still unsure of the outcome. Then he remembered Hester's expression of faith in him only last night, and his hopes rose. Besides, Jamie was her eldest brother and, in the absence of a father, that must give him certain rights in spite of his age. "I wish to marry your sister,” he said candidly. “I've not yet spoken to her, and I know I may trust your discretion, James. I hope you would have no objection should she accept my hand?" "No, how could I? I wondered if that was why you had been so very kind to all of us." "You must not think that it is entirely for her sake. I am, er, fond of you all, or I should not dream of taking on the whole family, not to mention chimney sweeps, three legged cats, and various other strays past, present, and future, however much I loved Hester!” He was aching to ask whether Jamie thought he had a chance of winning her affection, but that would be to humble himself beyond reason. He was soon very glad he had not. "She likes you,” reflected James. “Well, it's only natural after all you have done for us. Only there is still John Collingwood to take into account. She had several letters from him after you left Henley, you know." Neither of them had the least idea that the young vicar had tactfully written to Alice under cover to Hester. The knowledge would have set to rest many misgivings on one side and heartache on the other. "Devil take the parson!” said Lord Alton gloomily. Mr. Collingwood was the chief subject of conversation that Sunday when Alice spent the afternoon with her sister. They were planning to try on the altered gown, so Lord Alton delivered her to the door and then tactfully took himself off. Hester slipped into the gown, and Alice began to pin here and stitch there to make sure of a perfect fit. "Are you sure you can spare this, dearest?” asked Hester, though it was now by far too late to restore the garment to its previous state. "Of course, Hester, and any others that you need. After all, I shall not need such fine clothing in

Wiveliscombe. It would not be right for a parson's wife to appear so fashionably dressed, and I daresay I shall not need an evening gown above once a week." "Does not that distress you? You are used now to constant amusements and entertainments, but in a vicarage you are more like to be employed about household tasks." "I love to sew and to care for little John. Mr. Collingwood keeps a maid and a man, so I shall not cook or clean. I do not care so much for grand parties anyway; a great crush makes me sadly nervous, and at a small gathering one is supposed to be witty and clever, and you know I have no conversation. My aunt is forever saying so." The thought of Lady Bardry's strictures was bringing tears to Alice's eyes. She stopped pinning to wipe them away. "Alice, you are not truly unhappy, are you?” asked Hester in concern. The sympathetic anxiety in her voice was enough to completely overset Alice's self-control, always susceptible. "I want John!” she wailed. “You may think me shockingly ungrateful, but I never wanted to come to London. You and Jamie made me come, and all I wanted to do was to go into Somerset!" Hurt and troubled, Hester tried to soothe her sister, valiantly ignoring the pins that jabbed her every time she moved. Alice was inconsolable. "But, dearest, you told me he will be here next month!” Hester pointed out at last, beginning to grow exasperated. “You know I will not, cannot force you to marry someone else if the pair of you are still of the same mind then. You really must try to outgrow these weeping fits, Allie. They are as unsuitable as fine raiment in a vicar's wife! Hush now, or I shall have nothing to wear on Friday." The tumultuous sobs gradually decreased. Alice raised her tearstained face, her dark eyes huger than ever and unmarred by the slightest trace of pink. “I'm so sorry, Hester. I never meant to say such a thing. It was what Mama wanted for me, I know, and you are only against John because of her wishes. You have been very good to me." Hester was afraid that remorse was about to lead to a new outburst. “Yes, love, but see, this sleeve is so tight it has left a red mark right around my arm. I hope you can loosen it a little.'' Thus challenged, Alice was soon busy again with needle and scissors. Her favourite occupation settled her nerves and by the time Lord Alton returned to take her back to Holles Street, and Hester to the Rugbys in Russell Square, she was perfectly content once more. Not so Hester. While her sister was gathering her sewing materials above stairs, she waited in the parlour with his lordship. 'Forgive me,” said Lord Alton gently, “but you are blue-devilled, are you not? Is there anything I can do?" "No, it is nothing. Alice is in the mopes, and I have to acknowledge that it is partly my fault. How I wish Mr. Collingwood were here!” Hester sighed deeply. She was sorry to have to strike such a blow at his hopes, but it was kinder in the end to let him know that Alice still thought of nothing but John Collingwood. His lordship had not heard that name on her lips since his sojourn in Henley. In spite of Jamie's words, he had hoped that his increasing intimacy with Hester had driven the churchman from her mind. Now he felt that his sympathy had been rejected in favour of the absent Collingwood. It was Collingwood's advice

and support she longed for, not his. The Earl of Alton and Miss Godric were not among the Rugbys’ most talkative guests that evening. As they left, Bella shook her head sadly at her husband. "I wonder what is wrong,” she whispered. "Trust David to come about,” Barney reassured. “I've never known him to fail yet." David himself was less sanguine. Instinct and pride alike bade him hide away and lick his wounds. If over six months of absence had not undermined Hester's tendre for the vicar, what hope had he? He was making a cake of himself, dangling after an ineligible female who preferred a village parsonage to the wealth and position he could offer her. He shuddered to think what his cronies at White's would make of the sorry tale. Never must a murmur come to their ears! He must stop seeing Hester at once. He pictured her awaiting his usual Monday afternoon visit. When he did not turn up, she would soon realise that she could no longer keep him dancing attendance while her lover was absent. The thought was curiously unsatisfying. Hester's forlorn face rose before him, and far from triumph, it brought only pain. She was his friend; was it her fault she could not love him? If he did not take her out, she would be condemned to endless hours of Mrs. Florabel Stevens. To leave her in the clutches of that harpy was an act no gentleman could condone. Noblesse oblige! It was his duty to continue in his present habits. How rarely duty and inclination so neatly coincide! he thought as he fell asleep. Hester knew that her mention of Mr. Collingwood was responsible for Lord Alton's low spirits. That Monday afternoon she exerted herself to distract him from such gloom reflections as Alice's insensibility toward him must bring. It was a warm day in late April. They had crossed the Thames by the Hammersmith Bridge, left the curricle in Jerry's charge, and were wandering through water-meadows full of lady's smock and marsh marigolds. No one watching the rambling pair could have supposed them anything but sweethearts as David helped the laughing Hester over stiles, wove a chain of cowslips for her hair, spread his coat carefully on the bank for her to sit. A kingfisher flashed blue across the river, greening willows traced patterns in the water, a skiff tacked laboriously upstream. Hester sighed in contentment. “I could almost believe myself at home,” she said. "In Henley? Do you wish yourself there?" "No indeed. How could I so insult present company?” she teased. “Besides, I would be preparing dinner, not sitting by the river contemplating the view. I own, though, that life in London seems to be much more complicated that I had envisioned. Since we left home, I have not felt myself in control as I was used to." "In control of your family?" "Partly. Of life in general, of my own destiny. I sometimes feel I am borne along by an irresistible current, and I do not know where it is taking me. But I was determined to converse only upon cheerful topics today, and here you have made me serious. Tell me, have you read this new book that is just published, called Frankenstein? Alice tells me it is excessively horrid and gave her the nightmares.” They turned to a discussion of books until it grew chilly and clouds began to gather.

The towering cumulus sailed overhead without wetting them, but the days that followed were dark with drizzle. When Lord Alton arrived in Paddington on Wednesday, bearing a bundle of carefully wrapped volumes fresh from the bookseller, he found Hester in the parlour presiding over an all-male society—not only James and Robbie, but his two younger nephews and Mr. Wallace as well. Mrs. Stevens, it appeared, was confined to her chamber with the sniffles. Unaccountably, his lordship did not feel that circumstance need cause his instant departure. Some other reason than saving Hester from her company could be found for his remaining. Well, it was beastly wet out; need he look further? After a few minutes’ observation, his lordship saw with wry amusement that Freddy's young tutor had become a fervent admirer of Miss Godric. And a most unexceptionable match it would be, he realised, shocked. At least, if it were not for the family to be taken care of. No, the penniless Wallace was out of the running. Not for the first time, he wished he could use his wealth as an inducement to Hester to marry him, but she would never accept for that reason, even for her family's sake. Nor world he love her so if she were that kind of designing female. He sighed. Later, as she was taking his leave, Hester asked him privately if his leg was troublesome again. "No, not in the least,” he assured her. “Never a twinge since you gave me the liniment. Wet weather and dry are all one to me, and what is more, my friends still welcome me to their homes. You are a miracle worker. Apropos, dare I hope one day to taste your cooking again?" "Do you mean it?” she asked shyly. “I had thought of preparing a dinner for you and Bella and Barney. I feel I must make some return for their hospitality, and Dora is not up to catering for company. But I was not sure ... Perhaps it would look..." "It would be a delightful gesture, and I hope you know that neither I nor the Rugbys would think it anything else. Already my mouth begins to water!" "Then I shall discuss it with Bella tomorrow. Thank you, and thank you also for the books. They will provide no end of pleasure. Good-bye, David." "Until Friday." **** Friday: the Charworthys’ musicale. As Lord Alton's carriage took its place in the line that stretched the length of Charles Street and round the corner into Grosvenor Square, Hester pinched her cheeks to bring a little colour into them. Not for the world would she have Lady Bardry, or anyone else, think her frightened. His lordship, noticing the furtive movement, kindly looked out of the window. As he helped her down at last, he felt her hand tremble on his arm, but her step was firm, her chin was high, and she moved with quiet elegance in the borrowed pelerine that draped her shoulders in its mossy velvet folds. They entered the crowded hall, and a footman bore off his hat and gloves, her protective drapery. Turning, he took both her hands in his and looked her up and down. "Charming!” he murmured, and his eyes held frank admiration, then a provocative twinkle. “Very different." "As different as Alice could make it,” she confirmed in an equally low voice, laughing.

As they proceeded through the crush toward the stairs, Lord Alton was greeted by several acquaintances. He introduced Hester to each, but did not stop to talk. "Do you know everyone in town?” she asked as they ascended the marble staircase. "Everyone worth knowing, and a good many I'd not praise so high. Good evening, Ariadne, Charworthy. May I present Miss Godric to you?" They had reached the receiving line. Lord Charworthy bowed silently over Hester's hand. A stout gentleman who strongly resembled his eldest son, he was equally speechless in company but had the reputation of a clever politician, so presumably he opened his mouth often enough in the House of Lords. "How do you do, Miss Godric?” asked his spouse with a stiff nod, studying her with great care. Since issuing the invitation, she had had second thoughts. However, the young woman appeared presentable, so she unbent sufficient to add, “So happy to meet you. Allow me to present to you my daughter and—" "Know Miss Godric,” pronounced the Honourable George firmly, making a leg. “Very happy to see you, ma'am.” The warmth in his voice compensated for Marianne's disdainful glance and the sketchy curtsy. Lord Alton shook George's hand with unwonted cordiality. “Good evening, ah ... um ... Niece,” he said to Marianne. As they proceeded into the room, Hester was introduced to haughty matrons, simpering debutantes, laconic bucks, and chattering dandies. She felt herself the target of a hundred curious stares. With her hand on his lordship's arm, she managed to keep her composure, smiling and curstying with becoming modesty yet without excessive deference. It seemed to her that half the world was present, but Lord Alton was pleased to see that, as he had anticipated, the nature of the entertainment allowed of only a comparatively small company. There would be no opportunity for extensive socialising, though he thought Hester equal to anything. They had been among the last to arrive, and now a couple of footmen were opening the pianoforte at the end of the grand salon, and the guests were taking their places in the rows of seats with which the long room had been filled. His lordship spotted Sir Humphrey Bardry and his party and led Hester in the opposite direction. A pretty young lady dressed in the height of fashion caught his eye and gestured to the pair of seats next to her. "Pray sit here, Alton,” she called, “and make us known to your companion." He nodded and waved assent. "I think you will like Lady Honoria,” he told Hester in a low voice. “The Stearns are neighbours of mine in Hampshire. Wilfred and I grew up almost as brothers." Lady Honoria was a lively, good-natured young woman of about Hester's age. During the two seasons before she had married Sir Wilfred Stearn, to whom she was devoted, she had enjoyed an intermittent flirtation with Lord Alton and still had a soft spot for him. His lordship introduced Hester, and they sat down. "Do forgive my curiosity, Miss Godric,” said Lady Honoria at once, “but are your related to Miss Alice Godric?" "My half sister, ma'am,” answered Hester reluctantly.

"Are you newly come to town? You are not staying with Lady Bardry?" "Honor, don't be nosy,” admonished her husband lovingly. “Miss Godric, you will indeed find it necessary to forgive my wife's inquisitiveness. It is her besetting sin." "You are shockingly disagreeable tonight, Wilfred,” Lady Honoria pouted with mock pettishness. “I shall have to turn to Lord Alton for protection. He is quite the handsomest man here tonight, I vow. Do not you agree, Miss Godric?" "Spare me blushes, ladies!” laughed his lordship, saving Hester the necessity of finding an answer. “Wilfred, I see you have not yet succeeded in curbing Lady Honor's tongue." "No, indeed,” agreed that gentleman placidly. “She is as outrageously outspoken as ever. It makes life interesting, but as I do not wish to be thrown out of the house this evening, my dear, I beg you will save your retort for later. See, the performers are arriving." While Miss Corn and Mr. Welsh warbled away in incomprehensible Italian, Hester studied the audience. Many of the gentlemen were standing, so she had ample opportunity to compare them to her escort. Trying to be impartial, she was nevertheless forced to agree with Lady Honoria that none could bear comparison with Lord Alton's tall, broad-shouldered figure, his strong, clean-cut features and corn gold hair. She found herself wishing she could run her fingers through that hair and hurriedly looked away. Her attention was soon occupied by the irrepressible Lady Honoria, who simply had to point out Mrs. Dumbarton's quiz of a hat, Viscount Wardell's amazing waistcoat, Lady Martin's excessively low bodice. "And, my dear Miss Godric, do but look at Miss Holt's dress. With that carroty hair, she ought positively to be forbidden to wear pink,” she whispered. Hester soon discovered that her comments, though scathing, were tolerantly amused rather than spiteful. Warmed by her friendliness, she soon ventured an observation of her own, and even went so far as to disagree with her ladyship's castigation of Mr. Peter Tolbury's taste in jewellery. “The poor man cannot help it if his face is so red as to clash with his ruby,” she defended him sotto voce. "He might wear an emerald." "Well, but perhaps the ruby is an heirloom." The gentleman in question suddenly became aware of their concerted and critical gaze, and his scarlet face crimsoned. "There, now he matches!” hissed Lady Honoria wickedly. They both dissolved in silent giggles, to the mutual despair of Sir Wilfred and Lord Alton. At the beginning of the short interval, Lord Alton was pleased to see Sophie Bardry and Alice approaching them arm in arm. Lady Bardry, her back turned, was conversing determinedly with her neighbour, but Sophie looked no less determined. His nephew George soon joined them, with two of Alice's flock of admirers. After a few polite comments on the concert, conversation became general within the group. Alice, aware of her aunt's disapproval, was looking nervous, so Lord Alton, who remembered all too clearly the tendency of her offended sensibilities to take refuge in tears, exerted himself to amuse her. Little did he realise that in so doing he was providing new ammunition to those who insisted that the younger sister, rather than the elder, was his target.

In fact, in spite of his intimate knowledge of the ways of society, he had not realised that in escorting Hester to an entertainment at his sister's house, he had virtually declared to all and sundry that his intentions toward one or the other of the Misses Godric were serious. Mamas of more eligible damsels might grind their teeth in frustration, Lady Bardry might plead an indisposition and remove her party the moment the singing ended, but Lord Alton was not only a gentleman of rank and wealth; he was also popular. His charm had won him friends even among those straitlaced matrons who had deplored his rakish ways for years, and with the vast majority of his acquaintances he stood upon excellent terms. Moreover, everyone was burning with curiosity about the mysterious Miss Godric. Those few who did not succeed in obtaining an introduction after the concert, and many of those who did, applied to Lady Ariadne for information, but found her irritatingly offhand and uncommunicative. "Daughter of Ralph Godric of Oxfordshire,” she murmured. “Miss Alice's sister; large family, I believe." Lady Ariadne had noted with pleasure Lady Bardry's discomfiture, with less pleasure Sophie's defiance, and with displeasure the general interest of her guests in Miss Godric. Watching her brother's hovering solicitude, she realised that she had been tricked into lending countenance to a nobody he had chosen as the object of his attentions; and far from going unnoticed in the crowd, the nobody had eclipsed her expensively hired musicians as the cynosure of the evening. It seemed all too likely that her triumph over Lady Bardry would prove transitory and that her rival would emerge victorious in the end. She wondered momentarily if the earl might have less than honourable intentions. No, ramshackle though he might be, given over to a deplorable libertinism, even he would not introduce one of his barques of frailty to his family. She must do her best to dissuade him from any rash action, but in case of failure, she would endeavour to conceal from the world all she had discovered to the detriment of her future sister-in-law (shocking thought!), even if she would thus play into Lady Bardry's hand. She would have liked to comfort herself with the anticipation of cutting off all correspondence with her brother if he married the wench. Unfortunately, he was the head of the family, and to do so would merely decrease her own consequence. What a pity Charworthy was a mere baron! The constant stream of requests for introduction to her convinced Hester of the high regard which Lord Alton was held by all and sundry, making her the more certain of her own unworthiness. From Miss Holt with her carroty hair and thirty thousand pounds to Lady Julia Penrose, only daughter of the Marquis of Rosemead and even more beautiful than Alice, any of the unmarried ladies present would have been happy to toss her cap over the windmill at a word from the Earl of Alton. She was beginning to wish she had never let him persuade her to come when one of Lady Honoria's acid remarks made her laugh. "That's better!” exclaimed her ladyship. “I was beginning to think you quite overwhelmed, my poor little country mouse." "Honor!" "It's quite all right, Wilfred. Miss Godric and I are going to be friends, and we understand each other already. You will come and see me on Monday, will you not, Miss Godric? I shall be alone for once, so we shall have a delightful cose." "I'll bring her,” promised Lord Alton, thus providing any confirmation the Stearns needed of his devotion. After taking Hester to Paddington and delivering her, exhausted, into Bessie's care, he dismissed his carriage and walked home. His head was swimming with contradictory ideas and images. As he had expected, Hester's comportment had been perfect, even under the barrage of inquisitive eyes. He had not expected the inquisitiveness. Looking back, he could see that this desire to make her at home in society had blinded him to the obvious conclusions that society would draw. The world now knew that

he pursued her, and the world would know if she rejected him. No, he thought, no one would believe that. They would think he had changed his mind, had not come up to scratch. He must not let his pride become bound up in his need for success. He wanted her because he loved her, not because he would be humiliated if he lost her. How beautiful she had looked tonight! And through all the heavy French perfumes and pomades, he had distinguished always her fresh lavender fragrance, like a breath of spring.

Chapter 16 "I hear her mother was a milliner ... No, no, her grandfather is a shopkeeper ... Father? ... Ralph Godric ... Land in Oxfordshire ... Yes, a magistrate, I believe ... Member of White's ... ah, the Oxfordshire Godrics ... Of course, Lady Bardry does not acknowledge ... But you know Lady Bardry ... Pretty-behaved young woman ... Not putting herself forward ... Handsome fortune, they say ... Speaking of Alton's ladybird ... Sad rake, yes, but never bad ton ... At his sister's house? ... Certainly respectable ... And the Prince Regent ... You've heard? ... Commission to collect evidence ... Divorce Princess Caroline ... Pergami her lover? ... Shocking..." Conversations on these lines might have been heard in a dozen drawing rooms in London the morning after the Charworthys’ musicale. The end result was that a number of invitations delivered in Holles Street during the next few days had been amended to include Miss Godric as well as Miss Alice Godric. Few hostesses were not prepared to go slightly out of their way to accommodate “dear Alton,” and fewer still were willing to risk offending his possible future countess. In very short order, “pretty-behaved” had become “charming,” and the handsome fortune rapidly grew until by all report Hester was well able to buy an abbey. That such an heiress should reside in Paddington, as rumour had it, was of course quite impossible. Lady Bardry was besieged by demands for introductions to “the beautiful Miss Godric.” Before she was forced to confess her inability to comply, Miss Holt obligingly eloped to Gretna Green with an Irish fortune hunter who was willing to overlook her carroty hair in view of the thirty thousand pounds; no one had a thought to spare for anything else. Far from being grateful that her niece's half-sister had suddenly become not merely respectable but also sought-after, Lady Bardry was convinced that the whole affair was a plot to discredit her. It did not even cross her mind that Lord Alton might consider Hester an eligible bride. Having exposed to the world her connexion with the Bardrys, he would offer her carte blanche, and as his mistress she would be a constant source of shame to her relations. Quick to scent a plot, Lady Bardry was as quick to see a possible solution. It was Hester's position on the fringes of the Polite World that made her vulnerable to seduction. Let Lord Alton see that she had the full protection of her family, and he must look elsewhere for a chère-amie. And how neatly that would turn the tables on Lady Ariadne! She must call on Hester at once, but first to Charles Street. She found Lady Ariadne alone. "How delightful your little concert was!” she gushed. “I simply had to stay until the singing ended, though my head was excessively painful. And so very kind in you to invite dear Hester. I had quite despaired of persuading her to take her place among us, but your arguments have borne fruit, and of course your credit is sufficient to carry off any little difficulty. Too kind of you, dear Lady Ariadne. Sir Humphrey was saying only last week that the poor child was bred up a lady by my sister and should not suffer for a mother she never knew." Since Sir Humphrey lived entirely beneath the cat's paw, it was to be assumed that these noble sentiments issued in fact from his wife. She had by now nearly persuaded herself of the truth of her words. Lady Ariadne was harder to convince. "Doing it rather too brown, ma'am,” she said bluntly, a lapse into vulgarity which would have brought her daughter a severe dressing down. “However, since Alton has bamboozled us both, it behooves us to make the best of a bad business or we will find ourselves laughingstocks. I shall, of course, do my utmost to avert a marriage."

Disconcerted by this unexpected frankness, Lady Bardry was equally open. “You think he means marriage? I cannot believe it! I am afraid...” Then she recollected herself quickly. “Of course, in that case dear George will lose both fortune and title. How very sad! I daresay I should forbid my Sophie to think of him, but they are so very attached to each other I do not know if I can bring myself to such an extreme course." "Your Sophie may think herself lucky to catch a baron, Henrietta, and well you know it. Naturally, if Alton should marry, I might reconsider my opposition to the match." This was triumph enough for Lady Bardry. She soon took her leave and ordered her coachman to drive to Paddington. Hester was not at home. "She've gone wiv ‘is lordship to see Lady Stearn,” announced Bessie, coming out of the shabby house to inspect the visitor. “And Mr. James ‘as gone to ‘anover Square fr ‘is lessons and—" "My good girl, I do not wish to know the whereabouts of the entire family. Give my card to Miss Godric, and say I shall be happy to receive her in Holles Street whenever it is convenient to her. Home, Plunkett!” With his lordship to see Lady Stearn? And James in Hanover Square, doubtless at his lordship's house! Well! Lord Alton had left Hester with Lady Honoria Stearn and gone with Sir Wilfred to Westminster, where they both had business. Hester's hostess was as gay and friendly as she had been at the Charworthys', and without the restraining presence of her husband she allowed her curiosity full rein. "Pray do not think me impertinent, Hester—oh, may I call you Hester? And you must call me Honor. Everyone does, and even Wilfred admits that it is not inappropriate for though I love to ask questions, I never reveal secrets. So you may be comfortable and tell me all about yourself, for you are quite the lady of mystery! You may begin with the day you were born and leave off when you reach today, for nothing less will satisfy me, I vow." Never had Hester had such a sympathetic audience for the story of her life, for Bella Rugby had far too much delicacy to probe for any information that did not come to light in the course of ordinary conversation. Lady Honoria felt no similar scruples. She delved with delight into Hester's happy memories and with commiseration into the sad. Exercising great self-restraint, she managed not to show her redoubled interest when Lord Alton, alias David Fairfax, arrived on the scene. Colouring faintly, Hester described how he had rescued her from the flooding Thames on the night of Guy Fawkes. "Two days later, he left,” she said sadly. “That was when I realised I loved him." "You do?” crowed Honor. “Oh, that is famous!" "Oh dear, I did not mean to tell you that.” Hester raised a scarlet face and beseeching eyes to her new friend. “I beg you will not say anything to ... anyone. I could not bear it, indeed I could not!" "Of course I will not. Did I not tell you that I am the soul of discretion? Only I do think he must have guessed, loving you the way he does." "Oh no, it is Alice he loves, not me. She is so very beautiful that men are always falling in love with her. And in general she is shockingly susceptible, but she is not in the least attracted to him, and I am so very sorry for his disappointment."

"I believe you are mistaken, my dear. He has eyes only for you." 'He is always kindness itself to me and to all my family. It is for Alice's sake and because he is grateful for our care when he was injured. You must not read more into it than that." "Well, I shall say no more, but you will allow me my own opinion. How does young Robbie like London? I expect he finds it sadly flat after all the adventures he is used to in Henley." Hester soon disabused her of that erroneous notion. She told the tale of Albert the sweep's boy, followed by the voyage of the India Clipper and a recent incident involving her brother and Frederick Charworthy climbing astride one of the cows in Green Park during a moment's inattention on the part of Freddy's tutor. Of necessity, Lord Alton's name intruded more than once into her narrative, but by avoiding Honor's eye, she passed over it safely, and Lady Honoria was too kind to comment—when she was not helpless with laughter. "My dear, what a handful! I do admire you for taking charge of your brothers and sisters and managing so well. I find it difficult enough with one infant and a horde of nannies and nursemaids." This led to a visit to the nursery, and when they returned below they found his lordship waiting to escort Hester home. No sooner was the front door shut behind them than Lady Honoria turned to her husband. "She loves him!” she announced. “But she thinks he is in love with her sister." "Honor!” groaned Sir Wilfred. “I am quite certain you promised to tell no one, if she indeed revealed her feelings to you." "I have only told you, and I should not dream of telling anyone else. You do not count." "Do I not?” He pulled her to him and kissed her till she gasped. "Oh, very well,” she agreed, snuggling close, “you count, but you know what I mean. I suppose I really must not tell Alton?" "Certainly not. That would be the outside of enough!" "Not even about Alice? Her sister? How can he fight such a misconception if he does not know she holds it?" "Well, perhaps ... Oh, I daresay David will call me out for this, but you are right; he should know. Only pray use a little tact in informing him; do not just blurt it out!" "Of course I shall not!” she replied indignantly. “I shall be finesse personified." "Do no let him know I gave you permission to interfere, I beg of you." "Pudding-heart! I won't." **** Lord Alton chose to discuss Alice on the drive back to Paddington. "Rathwycke drove her in the park on Saturday,’ he disclosed, “and danced with her three times at Faversham House. His attentions grow more particular daily, and I cannot believe he is up to any good. I confess I am concerned for her safety."

"I am sure she does not encourage him,” retorted Hester sharply. The seeds of doubt sown in her mind by Lady Honoria died before they had had time to sprout. “I warned her against him, and in any case it will soon be out of my hands." Disconcerted by her tone, his lordship scarcely heard her last remark. It was not at all like Hester to speak with such acerbity. He saw that her face was pale and wondered if she could be as aware of and oppressed by the weight of society's expectations as he was. "I think you are tired,” he said with the utmost gentleness. “You are too young to bear such responsibilities alone. You are not offended that I have an eye to Alice?" "No, no.” The tender concern in his voice brought tears to her eyes, and she wished with sudden desperation -that his care was for her and not her sister. Averting her face, she managed to say, “I beg your pardon for snapping at you. You are right; I am tired. My life seems to grow more and more busy, and though I am already fond of Lady Honor, she is not a relaxing companion!" "Indeed she is not, but I am glad that you like her. Wilfred's land runs with mine, as I told you, and they are good neighbours." "Sir Wilfred, at least, must know Bella Rugby then?" "Yes, and when the Rugbys are with her parents, they visit, though in town they generally move in different circles. Bella is somewhat older and was married before Lady Honor left the schoolroom, so they do not know each other well." "Do you suppose the Stearns would join us for dinner on Thursday? I should so like to invite them, only I do not wish to presume, or to shock them. I did boast to Honor of my culinary genius, but perhaps she did not believe me." "You must certainly invite them, to prove you were not merely bragging." "You know that is not what I meant!” Hester smiled wryly. “She likely did not believe I used to cook for my family and shall again." "I do not know why you think her skeptical! No, joking aside, I am sure they would be happy to dine with us, if two more guests will not prostrate you." "It is close to a year since I assured you that cooking for seven is no more tiring than cooking for six." "So it is.” They both feel silent, contemplating the events and emotions of those long months. The first thing Hester saw when she entered her house was Lady Bardry's card lying on the hall table. "Aunt Bardry wants to see you,” cried Robbie, rushing out of the parlour. "I'm not at all sure you should go,” said Jamie forebodingly, appearing behind him. To their astonishment, Hester burst into tears. "As if life wasn't complicated enough!” she wailed, and fled to her chamber. After discussing the matter with Jamie that evening, Hester decided to write a note to her ladyship saying she would call on Friday morning. She wished neither to provoke her nor to seem overly eager to comply.

Lady Bardry appreciated the nicety of this response, having steered for years a subtle course between vexing her intimates and causing them to cut her acquaintance. She also, as was her wont, misinterpreted the motives for it, considering it designed to annoy without irremediably offending her. In this it succeeded to admiration. She was forced to make Hester's excuses to a number of eminent hostesses, but not to abandon her plans for the rehabilitation of her sister's stepdaughter. Hester was too busy for the next few days to spare a thought for the coming interview. She went marketing with Dora and was amazed at the large choice of foodstuffs available to the inhabitants of the capital. Rearranging her menu to take advantage of this variety—which she would never have guessed at from Dora's meals—she prepared as many dishes in advance as possible. Both maids helped willingly with the less arcane tasks, watching and tasting with awe as pâte followed daube into the cool, stoneflagged larder. The latter might look like a stew, but it tasted like heaven, and all from the addition of a few herbs and a mushroom or two! "Cor, miss,” said Dora, “if you was to teach me, I c'd go cook for the King hisself!" On Thursday they shopped early for fish, going all the way to Billingsgate to be sure of the freshest, and coming back by Covent Garden for vegetables and fruit. Lord Alton found Hester making a mayonnaise for a fine turbot and anxiously repeating her instructions to Dora and Bessie. "I've brought the wine,” he announced. “The claret can go straight to the dining room, and we'll stand the Moselle in a bucket of cold water. Jerry and James are unloading the glasses." He had insisted on providing the wine himself, saying laughingly that choosing vintages was the only job in the world he was not prepared to entrust to a woman. Since he offered to teach Jamie something of the subject at the same time, Hester made no demur. Jamie ought to know, and she could certainly not advise him. Considerate as always, he did not stay to distract her from her preparations. Instead he bore off both Jamie and Rob. "My nephews have invited them to stay overnight,” he explained cheerfully. “Obliging boys; it's amazing what they will do for a guinea. Don't worry, Lady Ariadne will never find out. I've discovered that the entire household from Mumford down is in league to deceive her when necessary. Hester completed the last touches and went over the maids’ instructions for the hundredth time. She then went to the parlour, where Florabel was snoring with her feet on the sofa and her hands folded on her stomach. It took a hefty shake to wake her. "Eh, wossermarrer?” she mumbled. "Florabel, you did remember about my dinner party? You're leaving early this evening?" "'Sright, luv, never fear. Pore old widder woman turfed out for the night so's the gentry can ‘ave a good nosh up." Mrs. Stevens had long ago given up any pretence of gentility. She was usually genially prepared to absent herself upon request, but she still showed no signs of making her absence permanent. Hester had almost given up trying, especially after one dreadful scene when it had been all too obvious that her cousin was under the influence of a large quantity of gin. Leaving Florabel in possession of the parlour, Hester went to lie down in her chamber. She did not mean to sleep, and was surprised to find herself being awakened by Bessie.

"Time to dress, miss. Dora's put the dob on the fire, slow-like, and Mrs. Stevens went out a while back." In a nervous hurry, Hester put on her old blue gown, the lace overdress newly trimmed with knots of blue ribbon. She was afraid it would not last much longer, but with money slipping away faster and faster, there was no hope of a new one. Going down to the kitchen, she found Dora in confident control. "It's right luverly you looks, miss. Don't be spoilin’ your pretty dress in ‘ere,” she advised. “I knows what to do, so go sit yourself down." The parlour was gleaming with newly polished wood, and all traces of Florabel's presence had been removed. The window was open onto a bed of sweet-smelling wallflowers, and the late afternoon sun filtered through the new foliage of the great elm. A thrush sang. Insensibly calmed by the fresh loveliness of spring, Hester reminded herself that her guests were friends, not mere acquaintances. They would overlook any shortcomings in the evening's entertainment. The Rugbys arrived first. Bella's increasing girth had begun to curtail her activities, so an informal party among friends suited her to perfection. In the three months they had known her, the Rugbys had grown very fond of Hester, and even Barney had decided that she would make David an excellent wife. Alton's entire way of life had changed for the better; he frequented the House of Lords instead of the muslin company, was to be found in polite society rather than carousing with the disreputable Corinthian set, and had at last found a successor to the estimable but infirm Denton, a problem which had been worrying his lawyer for years. For her part, Bella had seen his once rather cynical charm take on a gentler aspect, his always unfailing courtesy become a matter of kindness as much as pride. Both were prepared to be delighted by Hester's dinner party. Sir Wilfred and Lady Stearn picked up Lord Alton on their way. His lordship was amused to find that Honor actually was incredulous of Hester's claim to have mastered the chef's art. "It is quite true,” he assured her. "But she is so ladylike, not at all like a cook!" "She is a lady. Where others have mastered the harp or watercolours, she has acquired a more practical skill, that is all. Do not expect spun sugar castles and such frivolities, though. She has been used to feeding a family, not a horde of over-refined connoisseurs of art. She once told me that she did it because she preferred it to cleaning.'' "I hope I never have to choose between such alternatives,” shuddered Honor. "My mouth is watering,” her husband remarked as the carriage came to a halt. Judging by the quantity he ate, he was not disappointed. Hester was amazed and gratified at the general appreciation of her efforts, not having realised that in the nature of things, most households had to make do with the services of English cooks of indifferent abilities. The French chef who had taught her his tricks of the trade had been one of her father's extravagances. No less successful than the dinner was the choice of guests. Polite conversation soon gave way to true conviviality, and the occasional lull was unhesitatingly ascribed to the fact that everyone had their mouths full. Even Bessie's service was remarkably free of hitches. The one contretemps occurred when the time came to serve the second course.

"Psst! Miss!” the maid hissed around the door. Hester excused herself, but returned a moment later. "Mosquito ate the cheesecake,” she told them regretfully. "A mosquito?” exclaimed Honor. "Mosquito is a three-legged cat that bites,” Lord Alton explained. “One of Hester's protégés." "Well, with a leg missing, I daresay the poor creature must take what it can get,” said Sir Wilfred indulgently. "Not at all,” Hester hastened to correct him. “She is an excellent hunter and regularly fed besides. She has no excuse, and so I told her." "It is just as well there is no cheesecake,” sighed Bella. “It is one of my favourites, and I have been eating for three, not merely for two." "Have some apricot tart instead,” her husband consoled her. When the ladies retired to the parlour, Hester saw that Bella was looking tired. The gentlemen did not linger long, even though his lordship had provided a bottle of his best cognac, and Hester rang for the tea tray soon after they appeared. She herself was beginning to feel the effect of ‘the exertions of the past few days and was not sorry when Barney carried off his wife at an early hour, followed shortly by the Stearns and Lord Alton. "Shall I drive you to Holles Street tomorrow morning?” his lordship asked, pressing her hand. “You may feel the need of support." "Thank you, David, but I think I shall walk. It is not so far, and it will help me put my thoughts in order. I have had no leisure to consider what I will say to Lady Bardry." "And you will certainly fall asleep the minute your head touches the pillow tonight.” He kissed her hand. “Very well, I shall come at the usual time, and hope that you will have good news of the encounter. Good night, my dear." The Stearns’ coach set him down in Hanover Square, and he stood for a few minutes beside it, finishing the story he had been telling about his meeting with Mr. Pettigrew, the curate, during his stay in Henley. "Alice Godric is certainly excessively beautiful,” commented Lady Honor casually, seizing her chance. “Hester told me you are in love with her, but I do not believe that she is the kind of female you admire." An arrested silence greeted her remark. "No,” said his lordship slowly, ‘'Miss Alice is not at all ... Hester told you? Good God, you mean...? But why should...? Oh, excuse me, please. Good night, Lady Honor, Wilfred." Turning abruptly, he strode off into the night. “Well, m'dear,” said Sir Wilfred, “you have set the cat among the pigeons!"

Chapter 17 Lady Bardry was all cordiality. She seemed to have forgotten that she had spent the past twenty years trying to ignore Hester's very existence. "Come sit by me, dear child,” she opened, when the butler ushered Hester into her drawing room. “You looked quite delightful at the Charworthys'. I was sadly disappointed that we could not chat together, but my poor head ached quite dreadfully." "I hope you are recovered, my lady?” Hester enquired, thankfully accepting the subterfuge. "Yes, of course, I wish you will call me Aunt, Hester, or people will think it very strange.” She said this as if it were a long-standing point of contention. “Sir Humphrey thinks it time that I should discuss dear Alice's future with you. She has received two offers, you know. One of them Sir Humphrey thought unsuitable, and he would not allow the gentleman to apply to your sister, but the other was quite unexceptionable. Alice told her uncle that she did not wish to think of marriage at present and asked him to refuse Mr. Edwards in her name." "Very wise, ma'am ... Aunt. Alice knows her own weakness. She is so soft-hearted that had Mr. Edwards shown any distress at her rejection, she would certainly have found herself engaged to him in spite of herself." "But such an eligible match! And what is she come up to London for if she is not looking for a husband, pray? When I asked her the same question, she burst into tears and said she could not tell me and she wished she were dead!" "On dear, I do beg your pardon, Aunt. I have striven in vain to teach Alice to control her emotions. Perhaps I should have told you that she was very attached to a certain young man before she came to town. I had hoped that new faces would change her sentiments, but I confess she seems as determined as ever to have him." "Quite ineligible, I take it?" "No, a respectable gentleman and pleasant enough; a country clergyman. I daresay he will suit Alice to perfection, only I had promised my stepmama to see that she had her season and a chance at a good match." 'Very commendable. It is a pity not to make the best of such beauty, but with no wit and no fortune, perhaps she'd not have succeeded anyway." Hester was about to flare up in defence of her sister. Then she reflected that Lady Bardry was apparently trying to be agreeable, whatever her motives, and it would be chuckled-headed to vex her unnecessarily. Her ladyship had already dismissed Alice from her mind and was ready to move on to matters of more immediate interest. “You have received a great many invitations,” she said. “I have sorted through them and picked out those which you should accept. Naturally you will attend these engagements with us, your family." "Thank you, Aunt, but I have no intention of cutting a figure in society. I beg you will decline on my behalf." "Nonsense, child! You will not wish to offend half the hostesses in London! You must seize the opportunity, while they are so flatteringly anxious to obtain your presence at their parties."

"I cannot guess why they should be interested in me. However, that is beside the point. Among other objections, I have not the gowns to wear, nor the means to buy them." 'I am sure that Alice and Sophie, and even I, have more than sufficient to spare. Alice may alter them for you. The season is well advanced, and you will not need so many. Now, there is the Hyssops’ rout this evening, so we must set to work as soon as the girls come in." "I have an engagement this afternoon, Aunt.” Hester felt that her life had been taken out of her hands, but her chief reason for staying aloof from society had vanished with the hope of a great match for Alice, so she acquiesced wearily. "This afternoon? With whom?" "With Lord Alton.” To her annoyance, she felt herself blushing. "I shall write him a note making your excuses. We cannot permit one person to monopolise your time. Tomorrow there's...” Lady Bardry continued to enumerate the pleasures in store for the rest of the week, firmly quashing any objections. She then sat down at her desk and indited a brief note to Lord Alton. She looked upon it as a warning shot across the bows. If his lordship's intentions were dishonourable, it would serve as notice that he must forsake this particular quarry. If, on the other hand, it was marriage he had in mind, he could only be pleased to receive her aid in his attempt to establish his future bride as a member of the Upper Ten Thousand. Pleased he might be by Lady Bardry's assistance, but Lord Alton found to his dismay that it had become impossible to obtain a private word with Miss Godric. He had decided that at once the quickest and the easiest way to convince her that he did not love her sister was to declare himself without delay. It would also be the quickest and easiest, though not necessarily the least painful, way to find out whether he had succeeded in ousting John Collingwood from her heart. In the week that followed, he found her at home only twice. Both times Robbie and James were with her and she was busy about household matters. She spent a great deal of time in Holles Street, trying on morning gowns, walking dresses, evening ensembles, and submitting patiently to hours of standing still while Alice and her aunt's abigail pinned and cut and tucked and measured. He saw her several times in Lady Bardry's drawing room—along with Lady Bardry, Sophie, Alice, an assortment of beaux, and a variety of other visitors. Every evening he met her at the home of one or another of society's leading hostesses, and roundly damned society's prying eyes as he sat making polite conversation. By Thursday he was desperate. 'Will Alice visit you as usual on Sunday afternoon?” he enquired during a pause between Miss Hemming's performance upon the pianoforte and the arrival of the tea tray in Lady Shaw's salon. “You have been seeing her daily, have you not?" "I had not thought about it. No, I shall do better to devote the time to Rob and Jamie. I have been neglecting them shockingly of late." It was hardly the response he had hoped for, but he knew better than to argue. "I wonder if they would like to visit Hampton Court Palace?” he said. “You have not seen it, and it is well worth a visit. Terence and Frederick might join us, perhaps.” And keep her brothers occupied, with any luck at all.

"What a delightful scheme! I am sure they will like it of all things. Only perhaps Alice and—" "Six of us will quite up fill my carriage. It is settled then? We have only to pray for fine weather." "I will,” she promised. The next day she mentioned to Alice that she would not expect her on Sunday. Alice smiled and nodded vaguely. That morning she had received a letter from Mr. Collingwood announcing that he intended to arrive in town that very Sunday, and she did not mean to leave her aunt's house for a moment, for fear of missing him. She told no one. They all wanted her to marry some grand—though unspecified— personage, and who could tell what they might do to prevent true lovers meeting? She knew from her reading that any villainy was possible at such a juncture. Tired of struggling, Hester swam with the tide. Only twice did she assert herself. The first time was when Lady Bardry proposed dancing lessons. "I thank you, Aunt, but I am quite beyond the age for such things,” she replied quietly but firmly. “I remember the country dances well enough, and if any gentleman should be so obliging as to ask me for a waltz or a cotillion, I hope he will also be so obliging as to sit out with me. If not, he is welcome to find another partner." The second occasion was at her first ball. To her surprise, her hand had been solicited not only by Lord Alton and Sir Wilfred Stearn, but by several other gentlemen as well. She was standing between dances, talking to Sophie and watching the crowds, when a half-familiar figure approached. With a shock she recognised the dark, handsome face and elegantly languid bearing of Sir Hubert Rathwycke. "Miss Godric,” he said, coming up to her, “since I am well acquainted with your sister, I take the liberty..." Hester tilted her chin, turned her back on him, and continued her conversation. Scarlet with fury, Sir Hubert looked as if he would have liked to strike her. No one appeared to have noticed her cut, so he shrugged his shoulders and moved away, but more than one comment was made that evening about the nasty look in his eyes. "Dangerous man,” said one Tulip to another, nodding wisely. “Wonder who's crossed him now? Sorry for ‘em, demmed if I ain't." Hester, having explained away her action to an awed Sophie, dismissed it from her mind. Sunday afternoon came. Lord Alton picked up the Godrics in Paddington, his nephews in Charles Street, and set off for Hampton Court. Lady Bardry, thinking her niece was about to leave for Paddington, took Sophie on a long overdue visit to her paternal grandmama. Alice settled down, chin in hand, at the drawing room window to wait for the Reverend Collingwood. Dreaming of heaven in a country parsonage, she scarcely noticed when a boy ran up the front steps and vigorously wielded the knocker. A few minutes later, a more discreet tap on the door of the drawing room heralded the arrival of the butler. "A message for you, miss,” he announced ponderously. “A gentleman is waiting for you round the corner in Margaret Street.” He was surprised and somewhat disapproving that Lord Alton should make Miss Alice walk out to meet him, but after all it was very good-natured of his lordship to take her out to Paddington each and every Sunday, a young miss with no more sense in her cockloft than a pigeon.

John! thought Alice. She hurried to fetch her pelisse and almost ran up Holles Street toward Cavendish Square. The boy who had brought the message sauntered after her. Fluttery with happiness, misty-eyed, Alice was thinking how clever it was of Mr. Collingwood to avoid showing himself at her aunt's house before all was settled between them. The hero of the novel she had just finished had languished for years in a dark and mouldy dungeon for want of just such foresight. She was not at all surprised to find her lover swathed in a cloak, collar turned up and hat-brim down, though it was a fine, warm afternoon in May. He bowed low as she approached. "Mr. Collingwood!” she cried. “My dearest John!" Head still bowed, he kissed her hand. "Dearest!” he murmured in a husky voice. “Into the coach quickly.” He turned his face away to cough as he handed her in and shut the door, remaining outside. The blinds were down, so she could not see him, but he whispered loud enough for her to hear, “I shall ride, my love, and soon, soon we shall be safe!" Relaxing on the soft cushions, Alice wondered if he was taking her to Gretna Green or straight to Somerset. How lucky he had taken precautions against the dangers she had anticipated, and how romantic their flight together! She wished his principles were not so delicate as to forbid him joining her in the carriage, but over the rattle of the wheels she heard the sound of a horse's hooves close behind. Her faithful John was with her. **** Meanwhile Lord Alton's coach, heading in the opposite direction, rumbled across the Thames by the wooden bridge at Putney and was soon pulling up before the long facade of Hampton Court. The mellow red brick, three centuries old, looked warm and inviting in the sun. Jamie and Terence were fascinated by the public apartments, where the collected furniture and pictures of generations of royal residents were displayed. Providing them with a guidebook, Lord Alton escaped their questions and joined Hester. The younger boys, bored, raced ahead. "Oh dear, they are in a naughty mood today,” said Hester. “I had better follow before they get up to mischief." Sighing inaudibly, his lordship accompanied her. Rob and Freddie had reached the end of the suite and were resting on a priceless French loveseat, contemplating an Italian Renaissance painting of Zeus and Leda. "Outside!” commanded Lord Alton briefly. “The best thing we can do is to lose them in the maze,” he proposed to Hester. They were only too willing to lose themselves between the high green hedges. Alone at last, Hester and his lordship wandered about the peaceful gardens until they came to a bench beside a lily pond, where they sat down. Lord Alton suddenly found he had forgotten the speech he has prepared, in which he offered Hester his heart, his hand, his wealth, and his title. After a moment of blank dismay, he took a deep breath and had just opened his mouth to address the subject extempore when James and Terence appeared around the edge of a fancifully trimmed yew and strolled toward them. "Where's the maze, Uncle David?” called Terence, blithely unaware of what he was interrupting. "It's over there,” replied Hester, pointing. She had been conscious for some minutes of a certain strain in

her companion's bearing and was quite glad of the intrusion. The youths veered away, but before they had taken many steps, they were met by their younger brothers racing across the daisy-studded lawn like a pair of frisky colts. "Are you going to the maze?” cried Rob. “I found the way out." "No you didn't,” objected Frederick. “I asked the man on the steps." "He only told us how to get to the middle. I found the way out.” By this point the boys had reached the bench by the pond. "Didn't,” said Freddy. "Did,” said Rob. "Didn't,” said Frederick, and before uncle or sister could intervene, he gave his argumentative friend a shove. A loud splash, and there was Rob sitting in the middle of the lilies. Exasperated beyond endurance, his lordship picked up his surprised nephew and threw him in as well. "That was very silly,” said Hester severely. “Two wet children are much more trouble than one." "I'm sorry,” Lord Alton apologised sheepishly, giving the subdued boys a hand as they struggled out of the murky water. “I don't know what came over me. I suppose we will have to go home at once." He looked so woebegone that Hester wanted to put her arms around him, hug him, and kiss away his sorrows. "It's no good crying over spilt milk, as Ivy would undoubtedly say,” she pointed out, trying to comfort him. "She'd also have a dozen stories of relatives who died of a chill after a wetting on a summer's day,” he replied gloomily. "I've lost my shoe,” announced Frederick. “It was brand-new." Hester raised her eyes to heaven. “Well, you can't get any wetter,” she decided. “Both of you go and look for it." There was no sign of the shoe, but Rob caught his foot in a hole and could not work it loose. With a despairing shrug, his lordship waded in and pulled him out, emerging wet and muddy to the knee and squelching in his once-glossy Hessians. By the time they went after James and Terence, the attendant at the maze had left, and it took half an hour to extricate the pair. It was a gloomy party that drove back over Hammersmith Bridge and took the byroads toward Paddington. "An unmitigated disaster,” groaned Lord Alton as he lifted down a shivering Robbie and gave Hester his hand to descend from the carriage. “I did so want to give you a pleasant afternoon." "This time next week, we'll be laughing about it,” prophesied Hester. “I think you had better make my

excuses to Bella this evening. Dora and Bessie have the day off, and I do not want to leave Rob, though I'm sure he'll come to no harm. I hope the wetting has not hurt your leg?" "I think not.” He longed to bask in her sympathy, but decided that honesty was the best policy. “However, I'll not go to Russell Square. I'll send a message. May I call later to see how Robbie does?" "Of course, though it is not at all necessary, I assure you. What he needs is a good hot bath.” She watched the coach drive off and hurried into the house. “Rob!” she called. “Get out of your wet things! And Jamie, help me heat some water, please!" Jamie appeared from the parlour, shutting the door firmly behind him. “Guess who's here?” he said. “Mr. Collingwood! Florabel let him in, hours ago." "Mr. Collingwood? Oh no! Don't tell me Florabel has been entertaining him!" "No, she is upstairs. You'd better come and see him, Hester. I'll do Rob's bath." "Thank you, dear.” She went into the parlour. “Mr. Collingwood, I am happy to see you, and sorry we were not at home when you arrived." He rose to greet her. No longer overcome by his sister's death and his startlingly sudden love for Alice, he was a composed and prepossessing young man, though still rather solemn. "Miss Godric, I apologise for arriving unexpectedly and for my intrusion. Did Alice not tell you I was coming?" "No, she did not! Have you see her already?" "I thought it best to come to your first. I do not wish to appear underhand or presuming in any way." "Allie has been pining for you, sir, and if you will wait a week or two after meeting, to be sure your feeling are unchanged, I can have no further objection to your marriage." Mr. Collingwood expressed his gratitude in suitable but lengthy terms. While he was doing so, Lord Alton was having a far more interesting conversation with a stable boy who had been sitting on his front steps in Hanover Square for several hours, undeterred by the efforts of Harding and three footmen to remove his disreputable person. "So Oi delivers the missige, loike Oi says, an’ down come the young lidy an’ off up the street in a tearin’ ‘urry, an’ Oi follers ter go back ter work an’ she goes up ter this cove an’ shouts out ‘John Collingwood’ or sumfing an’ gets in the carridge an’ off they goes. An’ Oi knows as it weren't this Collingwood ‘cos it were Sir Yubert loike Oi said. ‘E keeps ‘is ‘orses at the Phoenix same as you does. She din see ‘is face proper ‘cos ‘e ‘id it. An’ Oi knows it's ‘er sister you got yer peepers on, not this ‘un, but Oi says ter myself, ‘is lordship'll want ter know." "How right you are, Albert, in every way. Here's a guinea for you. Now run back to the stables and ask Jerry to saddle Orangepeel and Jettison and meet me here immediately. You can tell your master that it's my fault you missed your work this afternoon and I shall be extremely annoyed if he beats you for it. Hurry now!" "Cor, ta, guv. Oi knowed you was a right ‘un, sure ‘nuff!" Blessing the day Hester had taken in the chimney sweep, Lord Alton brushed aside his butler's explanation of his difficulty in getting rid of the urchin and raced upstairs, two at a time, with a sense of

déja vu. Susan was now the only Godric he had not been called upon to rescue, and he had saved her from the life of a nun. He could only hope that his efforts on Alice's behalf would prove as successful. Southwell blenched as he pulled off the muddy, sodden boots over whose shine he had laboured so long, but in a very few minutes his lordship was kitted out in his riding clothes and on his way with his groom back to Paddington. Hester opened the door to him and was startled to see him so soon returned. One glance at his grim face, and she stood aside to let him in. "What is it?” she whispered, her hand at her throat. "Rathwycke has abducted Alice. He has several hours’ start, but I shall ride after him at once. Can you think where he might have taken her?" "Grace said he took her to a house near Hitchin—no, Hemel Hempstead,” she replied, dry-eyed and steady-voiced. “I will come with you." "Out of the question. I must go as fast as I can. Yes, I'm sure Hertfordshire is his destination. It cannot be above five-and-twenty miles to that place of his. I suggest you send James with a note to Lady Bardry saying Alice will spend the night here. I shall bring her straight to you.” He turned to leave, unwilling to waste time on futile words of comfort while there was yet a chance to save her sister from ruin. "Wait!” she said, opening the parlour door. “If I cannot go with you, there is someone here who should. Do you remember—" "Collingwood!” How could he forget?

Chapter 18 Mr. Collingwood,” said Hester, still in a voice of unnatural calm, “Alice has been abducted. You must go with Lord Alton to rescue her." "If you think him more capable than I...!” exploded his lordship savagely. "David!” She looked at him in surprise. “Of course I do not. There is no one I had rather trust with my sister's safety than you. But Mr. Collingwood has a right. If you will not take him—" "A right?” The light of dawning reason crept into his lordship's eye. He remembered that Albert had said that Alice greeted her abductor as Collingwood, an incomprehensible fact he had dismissed. "Miss Alice and I are betrothed,” explained the vicar stiffly. “Will someone please tell me what is going on?" To his astonishment, Lord Alton seized his hand and wrung it heartily. Hester was no less taken aback. "Congratulations, my dear man, I wish you very happy. The situation is that Sir Hubert Rathwycke has run off with your bride-to-be. I have horses outside, and I am sure my groom will be delighted if you choose to accompany me in his stead into Hertfordshire to rescue her." "Rathwycke? Was not that monster satisfied with ruining my sister?" "Grace told you his name?” asked Hester. "It was in her last letter, the only one I received. I wrote to him of her terrible end and of the fate that must have befallen her child had not you, Miss Godric, and my dearest Alice taken them in." Lord Alton's eyes met Hester's in a warning look. No need to torment the man with their suspicions that Rathwycke's actions were in revenge for that revelation. The expression that succeeded the warning on his face made Hester blush and lower her gaze. "Come,” said his lordship impatiently, “we must be off.” He supposed it was his duty to go to the aid of Collingwood's betrothed before he swept his own beloved into his arms, but if he had believed that she would be able to spare a thought from her sister's fate, he would have been very tempted to stay behind. **** Somehow the bright May afternoon seemed an inappropriate setting for a sinister abduction. Jettison's strong legs ate the miles swiftly, and if it had not been for his apprehensive companion, matching stride for stride on Orangepeel, he might have burst into song or shouted to the breeze: “Hester loves me!" After all, if she could read his eyes, now that the mists of misunderstanding were cleared, could he not read hers? Through Watford they rode without stopping, then halted in Hemel Hempstead to water the horses and ask for directions. Twenty minutes later they were trotting up the drive of a small but pleasant-looking manor house. "Tie them up,” ordered his lordship as he swung down from Jettison's back and tossed the reins to the vicar. Running up the steps, he threw the front door open without the formality of knocking, and entered the

hallway. On his right was a closed door, on his left another stood ajar, and from the room within he heard a pleading voice. A masculine voice. No one had noticed his arrival. He stood for a moment, adjusting his neckcloth and smoothing his hair, while a grin slowly spread over his face as he listened to the conversation. Then he pushed the door open and stepped coolly into a charming drawing room. The two people in it looked up. "Thank God you've come!” ejaculated Sir Hubert Rathwycke. Alice sprang up from a straight chair by the fireplace and threw herself upon his lordship, bursting into floods of tears. Distastefully, he extricated himself from her embrace and handed her over to Mr. Collingwood, who entered the room at that moment. "Do take her away, there's a good fellow,” he urged, pushing them gently through the door. Then he returned to Rathwycke. "Would you believe she has been doing that every three minutes for the past two hours?” Sir Hubert exclaimed disgustedly. “The wretched girl's a regular floodgate." "You had, I think, no obligation to expose yourself to her tears,” said Lord Alton mildly, sitting down. "Damme, they don't generally...” He stopped in some confusion as his lordship's raised eyebrows allowed him to see the icy coldness of the blue eyes beneath. "Why did you do it?” The ice had entered the voice. "To get my own back. I suppose you know the story?” Sir Hubert attempted to sound languid, but succeeded only in displaying disgruntlement. “I cannot abide such sanctimonious snobs." "So you tried to seduce Miss Alice, and when she did not fall for your wiles, you abducted her." "Unsubtle, I agree. My revenge on her sister is much more adroit." Lord Alton, who was lounging in an easy chair, straightened imperceptibly, but all he said was, “Yes?" "You may have met her so-called cousin Florabel Stevens? Haymarket-ware, and moving to Paddington did not change her habits. Though in general discreetly taking her business elsewhere, I do believe that for some time she has been, shall we say, entertaining there on Sunday evenings. Miss Godric's house is little better than a brothel." If he had expected to provoke an outburst, he was disappointed. His lordship's dropping lids hid the blazing fury in his eyes, and he merely looked bored. "You are incapable of understanding, I daresay, that no mud can besmirch a character such as hers.” His tone was expressionless, but Sir Hubert's dark countenance paled. The earl was perfectly capable of destroying his reputation in such a way that he would be forever unable to show himself in society. Quickly changing the subject, he said, “I suppose the parson you brought with you is the interfering Collingwood himself?" "Yes. I rather think that young man will one day be my brother-in-law. I should not like to hear that anything had happened to him or to his family. ‘Out of sight, out of mind’ is a favourite motto of mine at present." "I take your point, Alton. England becomes positively ennuyant, do you not find? So respectable! I

believe I shall try the French side of the family for a change.” Recovering his sangfroid, Sir Hubert flicked a mote of dust from his sleeve. “I may even settle there,” he continued. “They say Louis is fond of the English." "The Channel is an overrated waterway, in my opinion. I was thinking more in terms of the Atlantic. I understand America is full of opportunities for the enterprising." "My dear fellow, you go too far, positively too far!” For the first time since the mention of Hester, the eyes of the two men met. “Oh, very well, if you insist. I have heard the belles of New Orleans are not difficult to please." Lord Alton smiled and stood up. “Bon voyage,” he said, and went to find Alice and her vicar. He found them in the kitchen. A shamefaced manservant took advantage of the diversion caused by his entrance to slink out of the back door. "All the living-in servants are men,” Mr. Collingwood informed him, “and a villainous lot. Not a single maid to support my poor dear. Without your noble intervention, her plight had been sorry indeed, and she must have succumbed at the last, I fear." At the thought, tears poured once more from Alice's beautiful eyes. "I doubt it,” said his lordship callously. “Like me, Rathwycke cannot abide weeping females. Will she ever stop?" "I don't mind it, and when she is happy and busy with me in Somerset, she will have no cause to cry." "I would not count on it. Come, let us leave this place." "What of Rathwycke?" "He has decided to shake the dust of England from his feet and try his luck in the New World." "I will not ask how you persuaded him. I am certain I could never have done so, and all my future comfort I owe—" "Have done, man. I suppose you know I did not do it for you, nor for Miss Alice's pretty face. I ride for London immediately. You had best take the girl up before you on Orangepeel, and you may hire a chaise in Hemel Hempstead." Orangepeel and Jettison were confided to the care of the ostler at the Crown, who rarely saw such bang-up bits of blood and bone and swore on his mother's honour to treat them like royalty till Jerry could fetch them. Alice and John Collingwood sat down to a neat dinner, but his lordship was anxious to relieve Hester's mind of worry on her sister's behalf—and determined that Mistress Florabel should not spend another night under her roof. He hired the best nag the village could provide and headed back toward London, glad that daylight lingered long at this time of year. Hester had at first had little leisure to consider the consequences of Alice's possible loss of virtue. After waving good-bye to Lord Alton and Mr. Collingwood as they rode off, she had turned back into the house, feeling very much in need of a few quiet moments for reflexion. Robbie was coming down the stairs, clad only in a large blue towel, clasping a bundle of soggy clothing

and shivering. She hustled him into the kitchen, where James had lit the fire, and between them they bathed him. Hester was glad to find that Jamie had apparently been too busy to hear Lord Alton's hurried arrival and departure. She wanted to keep his sister's disappearance from him for as long as possible. They took supper on a tray up to Rob's room. As they passed Florabel's chamber door, Hester thought she heard strange sounds within, but she decided not to investigate, hoping her cousin was not ill. The boys’ room was on the other side of the corridor, and she heard nothing while they ate. Not that she ate very much. Dora's cooking seemed particularly unappetising that evening. Robbie fell asleep in the middle of his meal. Jamie carried the trays down, and Hester went to write a quick note to Lady Bardry. It took some argument to persuade James, without revealing the whole story, that it could not wait until tomorrow, but at last he went to deliver it. She took some mending and retired to the parlour. Now she had time to think, and the full horror of Alice's abduction hit her. Her sister had been in the power of that ruthless libertine for hours, more than long enough to ruin her if rumour of it ever reached the scandalmongers. Even supposing Lord Alton and Mr. Collingwood found her in time to save her, how would they stop Rathwycke's lying tongue from destroying her reputation? Hester could think of only one way. To her fear for Alice was added an awful dread that even now his lordship might be lying lifeless after challenging Sir Hubert in defence of her sister's honour. Unbidden, the memory came to her of his expression when he had discovered that Collingwood and Alice were betrothed. Not blighted hope but relief, delight even. And then he had looked at her in such a way that her heart had turned over and she had lost her breath. Had she, could she have misinterpreted that look? If Rathwycke had killed him, she would never know. And if he had killed the blackguard, he would be forced to flee abroad. Either way she would never see him again. Desperate, she sought another solution. She could see only a choice between the loss of the man she loved and the destruction of her sister's happiness. Thank God the choice was not hers to make. She paced up and down, abandoning the mending. Restlessly, she went out into the garden, which glowed in the last rays of the setting sun, but its beauty could not soothe her now. She went back into the house and picked up a book, staring at the first page for ten minutes before she realised she had not read a word. There was a knock at the front door. Hester picked up her skirts and ran. It was a stranger: a stout, florid-faced young man whose green and purple waistcoat was so startling that it caught Hester's attention in spite of her disappointment. "Kindly inform Florabel that Teddy is here,” this apparition instructed her, and held out a shilling. "Certainly not!” she exclaimed. “I—" "Hoity-toity, miss! Landlady, are we? Here's a crown then." "That's not necessary,” said Hester helplessly. Rather than become involved in an argument, she agreed to tell Mrs. Stevens of his arrival, and went upstairs.

She knocked on the door. There was a scuffling sound and then silence. Afraid that perhaps her cousin really was ill, she knocked again and walked in. Florabel was sitting up in bed, very dishevelled and clutching the counterpane to her ample bosom. Near the dresser an equally dishevelled gentleman was hurriedly climbing into his nether garments, a look of alarm on his face. Speechless, Hester felt behind her for the doorpost and leaned against it before her knees could give way. "Sorry, dearie,” said Florabel sunnily, “but you was supposed ter be out tonight. A girl can't always be running about the town." Her visitor had buttoned his breeches, found his hat and pulled it low over his scarlet countenance, and was tiptoeing toward the door, carrying shoes and stockings. Hester automatically moved to let him pass, and he scampered down the stairs. "Better leave,” he advised Teddy as he passed. “Got a feeling there's a storm about to break." Teddy gaped. “Got an appointment,” he said uncertainly. “Oh well, Flor ain't the only ladybird on the town. You think..." "She'll be changing her address, if she don't end up in Bridewell. Come on!" Every word was audible above stairs, as was the slam of the front door behind their retreating backs. Hester found her voice at last. “I think you had best follow them,” she said quietly. “I will send your bags.” She turned to go. Florabel, huge in a tent-like diaphanous nightgown, heaved herself out of bed and flung herself on her knees, seizing the hem of Hester's dress. "No, no!” she cried theatrically, “yew cannot be so crule as to thrust a pore widder out of doors at this time of night! Alas, Ebenezer, what will become of me?" "Get up. I have been patient with you all these weeks because I thought you respectable, though I have long doubted your sincerity. I have been blind, but my eyes have been rudely opened. You will leave my house this evening." She stepped out of Florabel's room and closed the door. Robbie was emerging from his chamber, rubbing his eyes, and James, just returned from his errand, appeared at the top of the stairs. "Rob,” Hester said, “go back to bed. I'm sorry the noise disturbed you darling. Jamie, I must talk to you." She took his arm and led him down to the hall, where they stood watching the staircase. "What happened?” he asked apprehensively. "There was a man in her chamber.” Hester was shaking now. “She is a ... a Cyprian, a woman of the town. Jamie, how could I have been so blind?" Her brother crimsoned and looked at his feet. “I guessed,” he admitted. “Well, I was not sure, but she often had visitors on Sunday evenings when you went out. Only I did not know how to tell you or what to do. If only I were not such a coward!” he cried despairingly.

"Hush, my dear.” She put her arms around his thin shoulders and kissed his cheek. “I can imagine how difficult it must have been, how you shrank from such embarrassment. Do not reproach yourself. I am sure I am much to blame myself for always taking in any waifs and strays without enquiry as to their antecedents.” She essayed a smile. "You need a man to protect you,” said Jamie, a new determination in his voice. “I think I had better—" Before he could disclose his intentions, Florabel swept down the stairs in her least indiscreet gown and all her jewellery, a pair of orange ostrich feathers nodding in her brassy curls. She had not abandoned her pose of outraged innocence. "Mai dearest cousin,” she wailed, raising a lace handkerchief to her eyes, “yew are too harsh, too unforgiving. How can yew torment me so? Ai am all alone in the crule world with no ‘and—hand— stretched forth to my assistance but yours. Do not withdraw your gracious bene ... bene ... kindness from me, or Ai am lost!” Having managed to force a few genuine tears, she lowered the handkerchief and allowed them to roll down her rouged cheeks, with unfortunate effects. Jamie's determination apparently did not stretch to sheltering his sister from this onslaught. With a strangled “I'll see that Rob is all right,” he disappeared. "I shall not change my mind,” said Hester steadily. “I'm sure you do not expect it. I take it you are not really my cousin, by the way?" "Oh no, ducks. It was that Rathwycke put me up to it. Free rent, ‘e says, and ‘e paid me ‘andsome too. Just a little joke, like, ‘e says. ‘E's a wicked one, ‘e is. I knowed ‘e were up to mischief. But don't you worry, dearie. I told all my gentlemen as ‘ow you was innercent as newborn babe. ‘Don't know the time of day,’ I says, ‘or I'd be out on me ear quick as winkin'." "I suppose I must thank you for that at least,” sighed Hester. Her head was aching, and she longed for news of Alice and Lord Alton. “Now will you please go? You can send someone for your belongings in the morning." Florabel, it seemed had abandoned her role only temporarily. "Alas, Ai am undone!” she declaimed, striking a pose. Hester was beginning to think she did it merely to display her Thespian talents. “Is there no charity left in this wicked, wicked world? Oh, Ebenezer, how— " A peremptory knocking on the door silenced her. Lord Alton walked in. In a last dramatic outburst, Florabel threw herself at him, buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed noisily. For the second time that evening, his lordship was forced to disentangle himself from a damp feminine embrace. This time, he simply shoved his assailant out of the front door, closed it, and threw the bolts. He looked down sadly at his riding jacket, where to the ravages of Alice's weeping had been added the devastation of Florabel's rouge. Hester had not moved a muscle since he entered. "Alice?” she asked with painful anxiety as he approached. "I left her enjoying dinner in Hemel Hempstead. Collingwood will bring her here for the night."

"And Rathwycke? I was afraid—" "That we might fight? No need, my dear. The man is only brave where defenceless females are concerned. He will worry us no longer. You are very pale; come and sit down." His supporting arm about her waist, he led her into the parlour and made her sit by the window. In the last lingering light, her eyes seemed huge as she looked up at him. "I've not been coping very well, have I?” she asked shyly. He knelt beside her and took her hand in his. "Hester, marry me." The tender passion in his voice startled her. Even as she answered, she knew her resistance was only token. Still, she must be sure. "But what about the children?" "I'll be happy to take them on, too, and Grandpa Stevens if necessary." "It is too much..." "Hester, I want to take care of you for the rest of my life, even if I have to take care of the rest of the world to get you. I love you." Exhausted, overwhelmed, and dazed with happiness, she threw her arms around his neck and burst into tears on his still miraculously immaculate cravat. Kissing her damp eyelids, he found he didn't mind a bit.

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