Ruined Page 2

  Dear Jez,

  I have done my best. I trust you will approve.

  Raff

  Jessie carefully unwrapped the linen bundle, gasped with surprise and took out her figurine with hesitant fingers. For a moment, she thought that he must either have wrought a miracle, or else bought another, for it looked perfect. Then, as she examined it minutely, she detected a very tiny crack. He had mended it, just as he had promised, and it was almost as good as new. How clever he must be!

  She would keep it in a drawer so that nothing could happen to it again, she decided. But before she put it away, she took out a snowy, freshly laundered handkerchief. It was the one which Raff had given her, and which she had washed and ironed herself. Carefully, she wrapped her precious figurine inside the handkerchief. From now on, she would keep her two greatest treasures together.

  Chapter One

  October 1794

  ‘Goodbye! Goodbye! Good luck!’ The good wishes of the wedding guests still hovered in the air as Gabriel, Lord Ilam and Eustacia, his new viscountess bowled away down the drive in his lordship’s gleaming curricle, which had been polished to a shine and decorated with ribbons and flowers for that very occasion.

  Almost inevitably, the ladies were the last to go inside. Most of the gentlemen, having done their duty, soon wandered back in to find the glasses that they had set down and to pick up the conversation which had had to be left off with the departure of the bride and groom. Sir Wilfred, who had been one of the few men who had remained outside – understandably, since it was his only daughter who had just got married – offered his arm to his wife, who was looking a little tearful. After a few dabs at her eyes with a dainty handkerchief, however, Lady Hope soon had herself well in hand. An actress before she had married, she seldom lost control in any situation.

  One of the two other men who had remained on the steps was Lord Ashbourne, the father of the groom. Alone amongst the company, he had not raised his hand in farewell, but had simply stood watching the vehicle disappear, an unreadable expression on his handsome face.

  The third man turned to the lady who was standing beside him and said, ‘May I escort you inside now, Miss Warburton? The sun is pleasant but the breeze is cold.’

  Jessie Warburton looked blankly for a moment at the thin-featured young clergyman before saying ‘Oh. Oh yes, thank you. It is a little cool out here.’ She pulled her shawl more closely around her shoulders, her actions a little clumsy, for she had a book in one of her hands.

  ‘What do you have there?’ asked the Rev’d Henry Lusty, taking the book from her so that she might adjust her shawl more easily.

  ‘It is a gift from Eustacia,’ she told him. The new Lady Ilam had handed it to her just before her husband had lifted her effortlessly into his curricle, amid cheers from the wedding guests. ‘Don’t forget to read it,’ Eustacia had told her firmly. ‘It might give you some valuable guidance.’

  The clergyman examined it more carefully. ‘A Vindication of the Rights of Woman. Are you sure that this is suitable reading, ma’am?’ he asked concernedly.

  ‘Be sure that I will abandon it if I find that it is not,’ replied Jessie serenely, as she took it back. They were about to go inside when an elderly lady addressed the clergyman, and he took a few steps towards her in order to answer her. Jessie was going to join him, when she felt a light touch on her arm and, turning, she saw Lord Ashbourne standing just behind her. He was as tall as Henry Lusty, but broader and dressed in the first style of elegance, in a coat of dark-blue cloth with snowy white linen, edged with rich lace. His waistcoat was also white, but embroidered with silver thread, and his knee breeches, which were biscuit coloured, fitted him to perfection, like everything else that he was wearing.

  Jessie looked up into his face, and felt her heart lurch, as it had done almost since the first time she had met him nearly twenty years before. Of course, age had left its mark upon him. His hair, which had then been jet black, was now greying slightly at the temples, and there were lines on his face which had not been there when he was in his twenties. Nevertheless, he was still a remarkably handsome man, and there was no sign that his physique had lost any of its vigour.

  ‘What is it, Raff?’ she asked him.

  He smiled down at her. ‘I just wanted to tell you how charming you look,’ he said, his voice suave and cultured. ‘It’s the first opportunity I’ve had.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she replied, trying not to feel flustered. She was not accustomed to receiving compliments about her appearance.

  ‘I believe I detect the unerring taste of Lady Hope,’ he went on. Jessie had recently enjoyed a long stay with Sir Wilfred and Lady Hope. Her ladyship had encouraged her visitor to discard the drab colours and styles to which she was accustomed, and to wear clothes that flattered her more. Today, in a green gown trimmed with gold, she looked much younger than her thirty years. ‘In all matters of fashion, you cannot do better than place yourself in her hands, in my opinion.’ He took out his quizzing glass in order to survey her costume in more detail.

  She had seen Ashbourne look other women up and down, but she had never had such attention directed towards herself before, and she found it a little unsettling.

  ‘Yes, she has been very kind,’ Jessie agreed. ‘Raff, don’t do that.’

  ‘Don’t do what?’ he asked her quizzically.

  ‘Don’t look at me in that way.’

  ‘You don’t like the fact that I find you pretty?’

  ‘I would if you meant it,’ she responded honestly.

  ‘And you don’t think that I do?’

  ‘Everyone knows what manner of man you are. You never mean any of your attentions towards any woman.’

  ‘Well that’s certainly tipped me a leveller,’ he said bluntly. ‘How do you know that?’ For a long moment, hard grey eyes met defiant brown ones. Then, abruptly, he said, ‘Are you staying here for long?’

  ‘I think that Lady Agatha and I will be returning to Illingham almost immediately.’

  Ashbourne glanced over to where Lusty was continuing his conversation. ‘Rumour has it that a certain clergyman will soon be following in your wake,’ he observed, lowering his voice.

  ‘Then rumour has got ahead of itself,’ she replied, turning away from him so that he would not see her startled expression. Mr Lusty had indeed proposed to her the day before, but she had told him that she needed time to think.

  ‘Should I ask him his intentions, I wonder?’ he said playfully. ‘After all, I am Agatha’s brother, and you are her companion. I’m probably the nearest thing to a male relation that you have.’

  ‘Don’t you dare do anything of the kind,’ she whispered angrily. ‘His intentions are none of your business.’

  As if on cue, Henry turned. He was dressed in black as befitted his calling. The dark colour emphasized the slenderness of his figure. ‘My lord,’ he acknowledged, bowing a little stiffly.

  ‘Lusty.’ The earl inclined his head. ‘This nuptial atmosphere seems very beguiling to me. What do you say? Does it tempt you to take the plunge?’

  ‘The church teaches that marriage is an honourable estate,’ answered the clergyman, his disapproval of the nobleman coming through in his voice.

  ‘Why, so it does. No doubt it would rejoice your heart, then, if we were all lining up at your door to be joined in matrimony.’

  Since Lusty had no idea how to respond to his teasing manner, Jez said quickly, ‘Don’t be so absurd, Raff. In those circumstances, Mr Lusty would have no time to do anything else.’

  ‘How sensible,’ murmured the earl.

  ‘I am sure that Miss Warburton can always be depended upon to take the sensible course,’ said Mr Lusty.

  ‘That’s just what I’m afraid of,’ Ashbourne responded in the same low tone as before.

  ‘Which is why I shall go inside now, away from this rather chilly wind.’ She curtsied to the earl, and Lusty bowed stiffly, as before. In return, Ashbourne swept them a bow that in another man less
polished would have seemed an exaggerated courtesy.

  Barely had he straightened from his reverence than he was approached by another lady, dark, handsome, and close to his own age of forty-two. ‘Penelope,’ he murmured. ‘What a pleasure to see … so much of you, over the last few days.’ He flashed a glance down at her daring décolletage.

  ‘How kind of you to notice,’ Penelope Gilchrist replied, drawing her shoulders back slightly in order to give him a better view.

  ‘And where is Sir Philip? On the Continent?’

  ‘Oh, indeed,’ she answered. ‘No doubt in pursuit of the beautiful, the fragile and the expensive.’

  ‘A man after my own heart. May I take you to find a glass of champagne?’

  ‘If you please. Don’t expect to find me as fragile as your usual objects of desire,’ she went on, her eyes twinkling. ‘In fact, I am quite robust.’

  ‘I am delighted to hear it,’ he responded, grinning.

  Jessie Warburton and Henry Lusty had been delayed in their return to the house by some ladies who were talking animatedly on the threshold. Hearing the other couple’s conversation, Jessie stiffened her spine. Deliberately, she addressed Lusty with some idle remark, but did not pay any attention to his answer.

  She had always known that Lord Ashbourne was a rake. She had been companion to his older sister, Lady Agatha Rayner, for eight years, since the death of her mother. Brother and sister did not get on, but her ladyship kept herself well informed about her brother’s doings, and she was always criticizing his profligate way of life. What was more, Jessie had seen for herself how women tended to throw themselves at him. The suggestive conversation between the earl and Lady Gilchrist had not been the first such exchange that she had overheard. She thought of the compliment that he had recently paid her, and told herself that she was just one in a very long line.

  Yet to Jessie, he had always been kind in his way. She still kept the figurine that he had mended carefully wrapped in his handkerchief, and she was reminded of him every time she looked at it. After that first encounter, she had not seen him again until two years later, when he had attended the squire’s funeral. She and her mother had not gone to the service, but they had welcomed people back to the house afterwards, and Raff had been amongst the company. She would not easily forget his warm hand clasp, and the way that he had remembered her name, and asked her how she was feeling.

  After the funeral, it had been revealed that the squire’s debts were so great that the house had to be sold to cover them. It was then that Mrs Warburton and her daughter were offered the use of a cottage on the Ashbourne estate. Jessie had wondered many times since whether Raff had been instrumental in that offer.

  Three years after that, she had summoned up the courage to ask her mother about her real father. It had been Raff who had taken the trouble to find out that he had died on the Continent just three years after Jessie was born. Then, a short time later, he had given her a book of artistic prints, containing two by her father. She kept the book with her figurine.

  At that moment, Mr Lusty drew her into a conversation with two other people, and her ruminations concerning Rake Ashbourne ceased for the present.

  Understandably enough, the party acquired a certain languor after the bride and groom had gone, and it was not long before the guests had made their farewells. The only people who were staying overnight at Woodfield Park were Jessie and Lady Agatha, who as well as being the groom’s aunt, was also the bride’s godmother and one of Lady Hope’s oldest friends. Henry Lusty was riding back to Sheffield, where he served as the bishop’s chaplain.

  ‘Such a relief to have Eustacia married so well,’ murmured Lady Hope, as she and her husband sat at dinner with their two lady guests that night. ‘Although I did not say so at the time, I quite thought that when Morrison jilted her last spring, it would prove to be the end of her prospects.’

  Sir Wilfred smiled. ‘I think that your son-in-law’s character is too strong for him to be swayed by such considerations,’ he remarked.

  ‘He shouldn’t be too concerned about a bit of scandal,’ Lady Agatha observed dispassionately. ‘He ought to be used to it with Ashbourne as his father.’

  Jessie paused briefly in her eating, then determinedly carried on.

  ‘I will say this for Ashbourne, and you know that I am the last woman to defend him,’ said Lady Hope, ‘but he conducted himself impeccably while he was here.’ Her ladyship had known Lord Ashbourne when, as Viscount Ilam, he had laid siege to her in her acting days.

  ‘He certainly did,’ agreed Sir Wilfred. ‘I was glad to have him on hand at the ball and at the wedding breakfast. It was like having another host about.’

  Lord Ashbourne had called that day to bid them all farewell, announcing that he was returning to London. ‘You are very kind,’ he had said in response to Sir Wilfred’s invitation to dine, ‘but I am expected by Lady Gilchrist today, and I may spend a few days there.’

  Enjoying Lady Gilchrist’s beautiful fragility, Jessie had thought to herself. Quite involuntarily, she had imagined his lordship’s shapely fingers that had so meticulously mended the figurine, caressing Lady Gilchrist’s white skin.

  Now, Lady Agatha gave a disapproving sniff. ‘No doubt he’ll be off to the Continent and back to his boozing and wenching,’ she said scornfully. ‘By the way, have you heard what Ilam has done for me?’

  ‘I think Eustacia told me that he had put a house at your disposal,’ said Lady Hope. ‘I thought that you were going to live in the dower house.’

  ‘Yes, I was, but when Ilam went to have a look at it, he found that it needed a lot more work than he had thought at first. Besides, I wasn’t much looking forward to living in the dower house. It’s too isolated, and will be even more so if Jessie takes it into her head to marry. It will suit me much better to be in the house in Illingham which Ilam has offered to me. Remember I’ve lived there for half my life.’

  No one commented upon this, and a moment or two later, Lady Hope began to speak about the difficulties of living in outlying areas, particularly in the winter. Jessie was not fooled. She had sensed everyone’s eyes upon her and knew that they were all wondering about Henry Lusty, who had begun to make his interest plain over recent weeks.

  She had not yet decided what to do about his proposal. She had not told anyone about it, apart from Lady Ilam, and while she would never wish the younger woman’s honeymoon away, she would have been glad to be able to consult her further.

  She could never think of marriage without having Raff at the back of her mind. She knew in her heart of hearts that he would never look her way, but she could not stop thinking about him. Yet she did want to be married and have children. Henry Lusty might be her last chance. He was a good man and not ill-looking. Right now, she felt as if she stood at a crossroad. If only she could be given some sort of sign!

  ‘Raff says that he is going to visit me whilst he is in Derbyshire,’ said Lady Agatha. ‘Personally, I’ll believe it when I see it.’

  That will be my sign, Jessie thought to herself. If he fails to visit us, then I will accept Henry Lusty.

  Chapter Two

  After Lord Ashbourne had bade Sir Wilfred and Lady Hope farewell, he set off in his travelling post-chaise to make his promised visit to Lady Gilchrist. John Pointer, his valet of some ten years standing, travelled with him. A slim, fair-haired man of his lordship’s age, he was elegantly if discreetly dressed in sober black.

  ‘An interesting visit, John,’ remarked the earl.

  ‘Extremely so, my lord,’ the valet responded.

  ‘Lady Hope’s still a handsome woman, don’t you think? I courted her over twenty years ago, if you remember.’

  ‘A very attractive lady, who knows how to dress to her best advantage,’ the valet agreed.

  ‘She’s done Jez Warburton some good, don’t you think?’ mused the earl.

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘I’ve always been fond of Jez. I hope she doesn’t settle for Lusty. She
could do so much better for herself.’ He thought of how Jez had looked at the wedding breakfast. His compliment to her had been sincere. He liked her, he was glad that she had had some guidance from Lady Hope, and if he was honest with himself, he had been surprised at how very lovely she had looked. He found it disturbing that she could not believe that he had meant what he said.

  For a while, the two men travelled on in a companionable silence. Those who were familiar with the suave, debonair picture that Lord Ashbourne presented would have been astonished at the easy way in which he conversed with his valet. The fact of the matter was that his lordship let his guard down with very few people, not being prone to trust anyone unless he had first proved himself worthy of the earl’s confidence: John Pointer was such a man.

  ‘Ilam cut a fine figure, didn’t you think?’ asked Ashbourne, his tone deceptively casual.

  ‘Certainly,’ Pointer answered. ‘He is a son to be proud of.’

  ‘As you say.’

  Ashbourne closed his eyes and thought about the past. He had been the only son and the youngest child of Michael Eldred Stafford Montgomery, the 7th Earl of Ashbourne. After his birth, his mother had lingered for a week and had then faded away. His father, never a very paternal man, had detested him from that moment. It had always seemed to be the way in his family that fathers and sons had detested each other. He had certainly hated his.

  Strangely enough, he did not hate Ilam. He did not really feel that he knew him. That summer, something unexpected had happened. His son had fallen in love. Ashbourne had only had to see the couple look at each other to know that Ilam’s feelings were returned. The cynic in him sneered that such affection would not last. Yet there was something deep inside him that desperately hoped that it would. Miss Hope, or rather Lady Ilam as she now was, enjoyed a very good relationship with both her parents. What if she could teach her husband to love their future children? The thought almost made him catch his breath.