Jilted Page 4

  She took off her bonnet, smoothed down her hair and stood looking out of the window for a few minutes. Just a few days ago, she should have been united in marriage to Morrison Morrison. Where would she have been now, if her wedding had taken place? Might she have been standing looking out of some other window, and might she then have felt the clasp of Morrison’s hands on her shoulders? She glanced round quickly, almost surprised to find that she was alone. She looked down at her gown, and recalled that blue was Morrison’s favourite colour. Suddenly conscious of a prickling behind her eyes, she fumbled in her reticule and pulled out her handkerchief. She had shed a few tears over Morrison’s defection, but never in public. Even with her mother, she had only dabbed at moist eyes for a moment or two. Any extravagant displays of temperament in the Hope household were the province of her ladyship. Eustacia always felt that her part was to be more restrained in her behaviour.

  Now, however, there was no audience and no likelihood of interruption. Trixie, she knew, would be enquiring into the appearance of any male servants on the premises. Lady Agatha had withdrawn, telling her not to come downstairs until she was ready. So she sat down on the edge of the comfortable four-poster bed with its green coverlet, patterned with pink flowers, and sobbed into her handkerchief.

  It was not a very cheering thing to be rejected in favour of a career in the military, she decided. No doubt had she been tall and blonde and classically beautiful like her mother, Morrison would have turned up at the church with his tongue hanging out!

  After her tears were done, she spent a little time splashing her face, then waited to recover her complexion before going downstairs. On her arrival back in the hall, she found Grimes, who conducted her to the drawing-room. This room, she decided, must be almost exactly beneath her bedroom, for the aspect was just about the same. Unlike her chamber upstairs, however, this room was decorated in apricot. Lady Agatha was seated writing at a little table in front of one of the windows, but at Eustacia’s entrance, she got up and asked Grimes to bring tea.

  ‘I have just been writing to the bishop,’ she explained. ‘I think that he should apologize for the mannerless intervention of that insect who came today. Not that he will, of course. My opinion of the bishop is not very high! Enough of him for now. Come and sit down. It is a shameful thing, but I have barely seen you recently. Tell me all about your mama and papa.’

  ‘And about Morrison Morrison?’ Eustacia asked, proud of her tranquil tone. The subject could not be avoided indefinitely, so the sooner that it was raised and then dropped for good, the better she would like it.

  ‘If the fellow does not think my goddaughter good enough for him, then the less said about him the better, in my opinion,’ replied her ladyship decisively.

  Eustacia was conscious of an instinct to leap to his defence, which she instantly repressed. ‘I only thought that you might want to hear what happened.’

  At this point, Grimes came in with the tea tray, but after he had gone, Lady Agatha said ‘My advice to you, my dear, would be to put the whole matter behind you. I had a friend who was left at the altar and she told the story at great length to every acquaintance. It became very tedious. Not only that, but it drove new suitors away as well. She became known as “The Jilted Miss Maybury.” You would not want to become known as “The Jilted Miss Hope,” would you?’ Eustacia shook her head, remembering how she had imagined herself being given that very title. ‘The best plan would be to put Morrison Morrison out of your thoughts. I have to say that his parents must have very commonplace minds if they could not think of a Christian name that differed from his surname. Imagine if your parents had called you Hope Hope?’

  Eustacia had to laugh at that. ‘I should then have been doubly annoyed with Morrison for not giving me the chance of changing my name,’ she agreed. ‘I have to admit, too, that I sometimes wondered whether speaking to him as a married woman, I would have been assumed to have been fashionable and dashing, or rather vulgarly familiar.’

  ‘Your dilemma is solved, then,’ declared Lady Agatha, pouring the tea and passing Eustacia a cup. ‘Now let us not say another word about him. He has occupied far more of our time than he deserves already. Indeed, I urge you not to mention the matter to anyone. It could damage your chances of achieving a good match in the future, you know. I have put it about that you have come to stay with me for your health.’

  ‘My health?’ echoed Eustacia.

  ‘Certainly. You are inclined to be delicate, my dear Eustacia. I have always suspected it.’

  ‘But Godmama, I am in the very best of health,’ Eustacia protested. ‘I am like Mama – never ill. I ride every day—’

  ‘Hush, my dear,’ replied her ladyship reprovingly. ‘It is not at all the thing for a young woman to boast about her robust health. As soon go round with your face covered with freckles! Now let us put your troubles aside and instead, let us think about my own personal difficulty, which concerns how to put the bishop in his place.’

  ‘Why should the bishop need putting in his place?’ ventured Eustacia.

  ‘Because he is out of it, of course,’ retorted Lady Agatha. ‘A bishop should be in his palace, or in his cathedral communing with his God, not throwing poor defenceless widows out of their homes.’

  Eustacia stole a look at her godmother over the top of her tea cup. The older lady was straight-backed in her handsome silk gown. Her eyes sparkled with a militant light, and her chin was raised. Anyone less like a defenceless widow Eustacia had never seen. ‘Is that what the bishop has been trying to do?’

  Her ladyship gave a decisive nod. ‘Hardly a Christian attitude for a clergyman to take,’ she said scornfully. ‘Is that tea to your liking, my dear?’

  ‘Yes, it’s very good,’ Eustacia replied. ‘That gentleman who was here today—’

  ‘That clergyman,’ Lady Agatha corrected. ‘Not a gentleman, but a clergyman. There is a difference.’

  ‘That clergyman, then. Was he here at the bishop’s instigation?’

  ‘He certainly was.’ Her ladyship sniffed. ‘As if I would be intimidated by such a skinny, lanky creature as that.’

  Eustacia sat in silence for some moments before venturing to say, ‘This house, Godmama: to whom does it belong?’

  There was a pause. ‘Do you mean technically or morally?’ her ladyship asked with a touch of hauteur.

  Realizing that she had made a faux pas, Eustacia hastened to recover herself. ‘Technically, of course,’ she replied, then added craftily, ‘I can see that morally there is no question as to who is the rightful owner.’

  Lady Agatha’s expression relaxed visibly. ‘You are right in asking the question. It will enable you to follow my reasoning as I describe my campaign.’ She paused briefly. ‘You will be aware that I was married to the vicar of this parish, the Reverend Colin Rayner.’

  ‘Yes, I was aware of that.’

  ‘My husband, Eustacia, died in the performance of his duties. Had he not been vicar here, then his death would never have occurred in the manner in which it did, and we would probably have enjoyed a ripe old age together.’

  Eustacia had never discovered how the Rev’d Colin Rayner had died. It had not been discussed in front of her at home, even when the death had occurred six months before. She had heard part of a conversation that had taken place in the kitchen between the man who had brought the news and one or two of the upper servants. She had been able to make out very little beyond something which sounded like ‘falling into a pit of his own making’. This phrase had been followed by stifled laughter, and Eustacia had left hurriedly, rather shocked by the callous attitude displayed by those she had overheard.

  Sir Wilfred had not referred to the matter at all, nor had her mother made any comment, beyond telling her to send a letter of condolence to her godmother. When Eustacia had asked about the circumstances so that she might make her letter more sensitive, her mother had replied that these need not concern her and that she was by far too young to understand such matters
.

  Looking back, it seemed to her that she must have been very incurious. At the time, however, she had been far too preoccupied by the immediate prospect of a visit from some of Morrison’s relations to worry about the death of a gentleman whom she had never met.

  ‘About what duties was he engaged, ma’am?’ Eustacia asked, feeling that it would be impolite not to say anything at all.

  ‘He died within sight of his church, whilst clad in his vestments,’ her godmother replied with dignity.

  ‘That must have been of some comfort to you,’ Eustacia murmured.

  ‘Indeed it was, child, and the fact also provides me with a powerful argument. If he died in such circumstances, it could be maintained that he never actually ceased being the vicar here. If that were the case, how could they appoint another man? Despite this argument – which I have put most forcefully – the church still wants to throw me out of this house – the house to which I came as a bride thirty years ago. Indeed, it was only just finished when I moved in, so it has never been occupied by anyone else. I have lived in this house for longer than I have lived anywhere else. I have made it my own. I have stamped my taste upon it. It some senses, it might even be said that I created it. Who has a better right to live in it? Doubtless the bishop would enjoy throwing me out whilst Ashbourne looked on, rubbing his hands.’

  Eustacia could not think of anything to say that would be pleasing to her godmother. Had they been having this conversation six or even three months previously, she could have agreed with Lady Agatha without so much as a qualm. After the vicar had been dead for half a year, however, it did not seem to her to be unreasonable for the bishop to want to install another clergyman in his place. This kind of response would clearly not be acceptable. Instead of commenting directly upon the situation, therefore, Eustacia asked, ‘How does Lord Ashbourne come into this?’

  Her ladyship’s back straightened and her expression became even more outraged than before. ‘Ashbourne! Pah! In a civilized society, I, as the elder, would be the one with the title and lands, and he would be the one begging for a foothold in a miserable vicarage.’

  Eustacia found herself very much in sympathy with some of this speech. She recalled some words of Mary Wollstonecraft that she had read during the night after she had been jilted. The society is not properly organized which does not compel men and women to discharge their respective duties, that lady had written. No doubt her godmother would agree with this sentiment, taking the argument further by saying that as Ashbourne obviously was not discharging his duties, his sister ought to be allowed to assume them, along with his title.

  It did, however, seem odd to her that Lady Agatha was so eager to remain in a place that she described as miserable. Resisting the temptation to remark upon this curious anomaly, Eustacia said merely ‘Is Lord Ashbourne siding with the bishop?’

  Lady Agatha gave a snort of laughter. ‘Side with the bishop? He would as soon take orders himself! The truth of the matter is that the property is very stupidly divided, which in this instance works to my advantage, because it means that I can play one party off against the other. The vicarage and the land upon which it stands belongs partly to the church and partly to the Ashbourne estate. At one time, the church had the chief responsibility concerning the appointment of the vicar, although the earl was consulted as a matter of courtesy.

  ‘Then, some years ago, in the reign of Charles II I think, the bishop and the earl were fierce rivals over some wench that each of them wanted to make his mistress. They played cards for her, the game got very heated, and the earl came away from the table with not only the wench, but also a large amount of property, including this village and part of the land on which the church and the vicarage stand. The consequence is that the bishop and the earl of the day are obliged to agree upon the choice of incumbent for the parish. If they disagree, then the earl has a second vote, and his decision stands.’

  ‘I see,’ remarked Eustacia in enlightened tones. ‘So you can appeal to your brother.’

  Lady Agatha could not have looked more outraged had Eustacia suggested appealing to the Devil himself. ‘Appeal to Ashbourne?’ she exclaimed. ‘I would rather have my head shaved. No, my best course must be to make sure that my brother knows nothing about this. He is in Italy gambling and whoring himself silly, and the longer he remains there, the better.’

  ‘Surely, the church will consult him, if they have not already done so,’ Eustacia objected, colouring a little at her godmother’s broad speech.

  ‘Not if I can help it. He was in Greece for goodness knows how long, and that is the last that the church knows of his whereabouts. Now his travels have taken him to Rome. The church has no idea where he is and I have not told them.’

  ‘How do you know where he is?’

  ‘I have my sources,’ said Lady Agatha mysteriously. ‘They will not disclose their information to the enemy.’

  Wondering what her mother would think to this description of the Established Church, Eustacia said, ‘What have you told the church authorities in the meantime?’

  ‘I have told them that my brother will naturally be taking my side in the matter.’

  ‘It is what any brother would do, I suppose,’ murmured Eustacia.

  ‘Poppycock! The only course that my brother would take in such circumstances would be to do the opposite of what he thought I wanted. More tea, dear?’

  Eustacia accepted and sat drinking it while Lady Agatha had a conversation with Grimes who had come in to raise some household matter with her.

  When her ladyship came to sit down again, Eustacia said cautiously, ‘Forgive me, Godmama, but for how long do you intend to … to….’

  ‘To hold the church to ransom?’ suggested her godmother, her eyes twinkling. ‘For as long as I possibly can,’ she replied frankly. ‘Oh, I know I shall be obliged to leave here eventually. The bishop will find his way around my schemes, and no doubt Ilam will disoblige me by colluding with him, but this battle is so entertaining. Packed away in the dower house at Ashbourne, I should be bored to death.’

  Eustacia would have liked to ask why the daughter of a wealthy earl could not live as high as a coach horse, but she knew that that would be unpardonably intrusive. Instead, she asked her hostess to tell her something about the history of the village and so changed the subject.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  It was while they were drinking tea, and while Eustacia was still taking in the fact that her godmother was deliberately deceiving the church in order to remain in a house to which she was clearly not entitled, that the door opened and a lady wearing a neat but unremarkable bonnet and a modestly cut smoky-grey gown came into the room.

  ‘Oh, I beg your pardon,’ she said in a soft musical tone.

  ‘Come in, Jessie,’ said Lady Agatha. ‘Allow me to introduce Eustacia Hope, my goddaughter. You will remember that I told you that she was to come and stay with us for a while. Eustacia, this is Jessie Warburton, who resides with me as my companion.’

  Eustacia got up to exchange polite greetings with the newcomer. Miss Warburton was taller than Eustacia by a good three or four inches, and she looked to be in her thirties. Her hair, neat and smooth beneath her plain straw bonnet was of an ordinary shade of light brown. Her eyes were also brown, and her features held nothing to displease, but nothing to catch the eye either. Altogether she was the kind of woman that one might easily pass in the street and instantly forget. This was Eustacia’s opinion, until the other woman smiled, whereupon her face was lit up with an expression of such sweetness that her appearance was instantly transformed to something that was very like beauty.

  ‘I’m sorry that I was not here to greet you, Miss Hope,’ said Miss Warburton. ‘I was doing a little visiting on Lady Agatha’s behalf.’

  ‘Visiting?’ echoed Eustacia.

  ‘I like to keep an eye on the parishioners,’ said her ladyship. ‘Someone has to do so, if there is no priest here.’ Then, before anyone could comment upon the connection
between the lack of an incumbent and her refusal to quit the house, she said, ‘Take off your bonnet, Jessie, and ring for more tea. This is cold.’

  ‘I have already had tea with Mrs Swanage,’ Jessie replied, doing as she was bid. As she removed her head covering and walked to the bell, her movements were as smooth and gentle as the tone of her voice.

  ‘Tea with Mrs Swanage!’ exclaimed Lady Agatha in disgusted tones. ‘Cat’s wee with a wet hen!’

  Eustacia coloured again at her godmother’s forceful language, for Lady Hope. despite her former connections with the stage, never expressed herself in unladylike terms. Jessie, who was obviously more used to it, simply smiled and enquired about the visitor’s journey.

  ‘It went very smoothly, thank you,’ Eustacia replied.

  ‘Until the last few minutes,’ her ladyship put in. ‘That insect Henry Lusty came again and I had to eject him.’

  ‘You do Mr Lusty a disservice,’ said Jessie calmly. ‘He is only doing what he believes to be right.’

  ‘Ha!’ ejaculated her ladyship. ‘He would not come here nearly so often if you were not here. Still, you’re better off entertaining his suit than sighing over Ashbourne, I suppose.’

  Jessie coloured faintly, but made no response to this, simply enquiring for how long Eustacia was intending to stay. ‘I am not sure as yet,’ Eustacia told her, as Grimes came in with more tea. ‘For how long have you resided with my godmother, Miss Warburton?’

  ‘For the last eight years,’ Jessie answered. Eustacia was surprised. She had expected to hear that Lady Agatha’s companion had come to live at the vicarage on the death of the vicar.

  ‘Never mind that. It’s all past history,’ said Lady Agatha dismissively. ‘The main thing is that we now have reinforcements.’

  ‘Reinforcements?’ repeated Jessie and Eustacia, almost at the same time.