Miss Winbolt and the Fortune Hunter Page 9

  The rest of the drive was accompanied by the lady’s light chatter about the scenery. As they drew in through Charlwood’s gates William said, ‘Tell me, Mrs Fenton, what is it about Charlwood that interests you so much? Only the garden? I’m afraid the main house is not yet ready for visitors, but I could show you the Dower House if you wish. It should soon be ready for occupation. I want a word with my caretakers so we shall have to call there.’

  ‘Occupation? By whom? Surely you are not going to live there yourself?’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I thought you owned Charlwood.’

  ‘I do. But renovating such a big house is a long and costly business. It will be some time before I am able to live in it, perhaps as much as a year.’

  ‘I see.’ Maria Fenton’s tone was thoughtful.

  William showed her the Dower House as promised, but her mind was not on the charms of what was quite a small house. She returned to the subject of Charlwood as soon as they set off up the drive. ‘So Charlwood is to remain unoccupied for some time yet?’

  ‘Unfortunately, yes.’ William eyed her curiously. ‘Is there something wrong with that?’

  ‘Oh no! No, how could there be? It’s just that I find it such a pity…’

  ‘It won’t be neglected. I have men working on it at the moment.’

  ‘Yes, of course. And a care taker, too, I dare say.’ Mrs Fenton perhaps felt that she was appearing to be too curious, and she gave a little laugh and said, ‘Oh, forgive me, Sir William. I always have such an affinity for houses that need our love and attention. I knew Charlwood when I was a girl and it affects me to see it in ruins.’

  William laughed. ‘Of course, your family comes from Stoke Harborne. Did your brother live there, too?’

  ‘My bro—? Oh, yes, my brother. Or rather, my brother-in-law. No, he has lived in London all his life.’

  ‘I see. And your friend? Does he also come from London?’

  ‘My friend? I don’t think… Oh, you mean Walter’s friend. Yes, he does.’ She smiled provocatively. ‘I do believe you are jealous, Sir William! But you have no need. Walter’s visitor is an old friend of the Fentons, nothing more. But we were talking about Charlwood… Is it really a ruin now?’

  ‘Far from it. But if it is to be a home for the family, it will have to be perfectly restored. Now, do you wish to see the gardens?’

  The tour William gave his com pan ion was shorter, but followed much the same course as the day before. He enjoyed it very much less. In spite of her claims, Maria Fenton showed little interest in the garden and none at all in the views, but it was apparently true that she loved the house. She would have wandered all over the ground floor if he had let her. When they reached the salon she exclaimed at the state of the walls, and walked round examining them, picking up some of the pictures, knocking on the plaster and tapping the wood to see, she said, how much repair they would need. He found it even odder when she examined every picture in minute detail.

  ‘If you do not need my help with the gardens, perhaps you would allow me to advise you on schemes for re storing—and especially deco rating—Charlwood, sir. I am thought to be something of an expert on interiors. I cannot tell you how many of my friends have been grateful for my advice. These pictures, for example. Would you like to have them restored?’

  She was becoming increasingly flirtatious, too, and William was discovering that for all her charm, Mrs Fenton bored him. Her manner was brittle, altogether too artificial, too contrived, and he had a strong feeling that there was more behind her interest in Charlwood than she had admitted. Disliking the situation, he said drily, ‘Thank you, ma’am. You are very kind. But I have already engaged a firm from London to carry out the restoration work. And the time to discuss schemes for decoration can wait till I have chosen a wife.’

  Still too sure of her ability to fascinate to see this as the snub it was, she opened her eyes wide and breathed dramatically, ‘So it’s true? You intend to marry? Dare I ask who the lucky lady is?’

  ‘Since it is not yet decided, I’m afraid I can’t answer you.’

  ‘Really? You haven’t decided? How very interesting!’ After a short silence the lady went on, ‘Sir William, you and I are such old friends by now that I feel I can be frank with you. I so wish I could be the chatelaine of this lovely house! I can think of no better use for my fortune.’ She sighed. ‘So much money is a burden to me, Sir William. I some times wish Edric had left me less well endowed. But to use it to restore a house like Charlwood to its former glory would be a dream come true. You say you haven’t yet chosen a wife. Then think, my friend. Think of what we could do together…’ She leaned towards him, and he caught a breath of her perfume.

  William wondered why it was that a movement like that from Emily Winbolt could set him alight, when the lady in front of him evoked only a feeling of distaste. He took a step back and said with a small bow, ‘I’m afraid I can’t offer you Charlwood, Mrs Fenton. Nor anything else. But I am sure there are other houses in need of your care. And your money. I hope you find one to satisfy you. Shall we return to the carriage?’

  This time she could not help but be aware of his rejection. The colour ran high in her cheeks and her voice was shrill as she snapped, ‘My word, sir, you are very blunt!’

  ‘I think it best to be plain when it seems necessary, ma’am.’

  She turned away and with a flounce of her skirts said, ‘Necessary? What do you mean, necessary? I hope you don’t think my offer of help was anything more than a neighbourly gesture? You have completely misunderstood me, sir. You may be looking for a wife, but, I assure you, I have no intention of seeking another husband!’

  ‘Of course not,’ he said soothingly. ‘The idea is absurd. Tell me, are you planning to go to the Harbornes’ next month?’

  On the way home William determinedly confined his conversation to strictly neutral topics such as conjectures about the weather or the harvest, or future events in the county, to which Mrs Fenton’s responses were almost non-existent. Her attitude implied that he was unworthy of any further consideration. But when he saw her to her door and took his leave, she thanked him with a tight little smile and wished him success with his plans for house and gardens. ‘Especially those involving Emily Winbolt,’ she said before she went indoors.

  As he drove back to his godmother’s, William was coming to the conclusion that he had been much mistaken in Mrs Fenton. He had thought her the sort of society charmer with whom he had enjoyed many a light flirtation in the past. But today he had seen ugliness under that beautiful surface. Her last words had had a distinct under tone of malice in them, and the smile had been more than a touch poisonous. She was furious, of course, that he had turned down her veiled proposal. But he was sure it had been her pride, not her heart, which had suffered—she would soon recover. All he need do was avoid her as much as possible in the future. She couldn’t really do him much harm, and he had at least put an end to her desire to see Charlwood.

  In that he was wrong. Mrs Fenton swept into her salon and, angrily pulling off her gloves, said, ‘It’s no use. The place is in chaos, and I wasn’t able to get near any of it except the big room at the back. And you needn’t expect me to spend any more time on that conceited oaf, either.’

  ‘Poor Sis! Turned you down, did he?’ asked the gentle man sprawling in one of the arm chairs. ‘I told you it was a bad idea.’

  ‘Don’t call me Sis! It’s vulgar. And I don’t know why you think it was such a bad idea. Most men are easy enough to attract. But he has his eye on the Winbolt creature, I’ll swear. I can’t imagine why. She’s a cold fish if ever I saw one.’

  ‘Maybe he thinks she’s richer?’

  ‘Probably. I’ll have to think of something else. Or Kidman will just have to find another way to stop them from moving into Charlwood.’

  ‘You’d be a fool to tell him so. Kidman is not going to be pleased, Sis. And when Kidman isn’t pleased he’s dangerous. You haven’t seen him in one
of his rages.’

  ‘Don’t call me Sis! I’ve told you, it’s vulgar. Anyway, Ashenden isn’t planning to move into Charlwood for some time yet. He’s put ting the Dower House in order and intends to live there first.’ She walked about the room, then stopped and said abruptly, ‘How does Kidman know that the Valleron jewels are hidden in Charlwood?’

  ‘I told him.’

  ‘You! Why?’ She looked at him, then shook her head. ‘You’re a fool!’

  ‘If Kidman asks me a question, I answer it as best I can. That’s not foolish, that’s sensible. Remember that, Maria.’ There was warning in his voice. ‘Edric was pretty ruthless, but Kidman is worse. Edric was at least sane before he got ill. And then it was the drugs.’

  Maria gave him another scornful look. ‘You’re a coward! I can handle Kidman. But how did you know about Charlwood? I won’t believe Edric told you himself, brother or not. Edric wouldn’t tell anyone.’

  ‘I agree. But those last weeks he was so full of laudanum that he didn’t know what he was saying. You know that. You were there. He rambled a lot, but he mentioned Charlwood several times when I was with him, and talked about staying there with Great-Uncle Daniel when he was a boy. That was before my time, but it wasn’t difficult to work out.’ There was a pause. Then his voice changed as he said, ‘In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if, when Edric knew he was dying, he tried to tell someone exactly where the jewels were, but it was too late. He couldn’t get the words out.’ He came nearer. ‘Was it you, Maria? You spent more time with him than anyone else at the end. Are you sure he didn’t manage to tell you something after all?’

  ‘Quite sure!’ she said quickly. ‘He couldn’t say a word!’

  ‘Then why did you move here straight after his death?’

  ‘How can you be so cruel?’ she said with a catch in her voice. ‘I was unhappy in London. Edric was dead and I…I wanted to be back where I belonged—where I was brought up.’

  ‘Which just happens to be within a few miles of Charlwood. I’m not sure I altogether believe that, and neither will Kidman. He’s not what I’d call gullible. And he intends to find those jewels even if it means tearing the place down.’

  ‘No! I…I need a little longer.’

  Walter frowned. ‘I suspect you’re playing a dangerous game, Maria. Kidman is no fool. Take my advice and have something for him when he comes. Some little titbit to keep him occupied. Think hard. Isn’t there anything?’

  ‘I tell you, Edric was practically un conscious! He…he mumbled a bit, but I couldn’t make it out. It could have been something…something about a fountain. Then I thought he had fallen asleep. And that is all!’

  ‘Why the devil couldn’t you have woken him up and asked him to try harder?’

  ‘Even your precious Kidman couldn’t have done that. Edric wasn’t asleep, he was dead.’

  ‘Leaving you a grieving widow.’

  ‘But not as rich as I had hoped to be. Not nearly. And to think of all those jewels lying there… Tell me, how far…how far has Kidman got?’

  ‘He and a couple of others have been searching the house ever since Edric died, and haven’t found a thing. The big room at the back was the last. It’s just as well it was. Some interfering neighbour saw them, and since then the place has been watched every night.’

  ‘Well, all I can say is that it’s a pity Kidman didn’t buy the place himself when he had the chance. He waited too long.’

  ‘Who would have thought anyone would be mad enough to want a rundown ruin like Charlwood? We all thought we were safe. Kidman did his best—he made a better offer for it as soon as he heard, but it was too late. Ashenden was in possession and didn’t want to sell.’

  ‘I think it’s hopeless. Better for everyone if Kidman gave up.’

  ‘You can’t know him as well as you believe! Seventy thousand pounds’ worth of gold and jewels? He won’t give up on a sum like that, and—listen to me care fully, Maria, because it’s important—woe betide anyone who stands in his way.’

  ‘What can he do?’

  ‘I hope, very sincerely, that you never find out. You need to do some serious thinking. He’ll be here before the end of the week, and I’ll mention the fountain business. But I warn you. He doesn’t like failure, and he doesn’t like frustration.’

  It had to be said that neither of them was looking forward to Mr Kidman’s visit.

  When William got back his excursion with Mrs Fenton was for got ten, driven from his mind by the news that the children would be arriving in England at the end of the month. His long-standing problem was suddenly urgent. The changes to the Dower House were nearly done, and furnishings and staff could be dealt with in a very short time after that. They could all move in not long after the children’s arrival. But who would look after them there? They needed more than the impersonal care of a servant, they needed a mother.

  In other words, a wife was urgently required, and there was only one woman who would do. Emily Winbolt would not be the easiest of help meets, but she was exactly what he required. He even liked her! And judging by her response at their first sensational meeting, marriage to her could have other, more exciting, aspects. William decided not to delay any further, but, conscious that the lady might need considerable persuasion, he set out for Shearings the next day without saying a word about his intention to Lady Deardon.

  He arrived at Shearings at a fortunate moment. Philip had taken Rosa to Temperley to visit her father, and Emily was alone. He found her in the library, the plans for one of the gardens she and Philip had created spread out on the desk in front of her

  ‘Good morning,’ she said with an air of abstraction. ‘You’re an early bird. But I’m glad you’re here. Look at this.’ She pointed at a section of the drawing that showed the supply of water to the ornamental ponds. ‘It wouldn’t be difficult to do something like this at Charlwood.’ She looked up. ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘No, but I want to talk to you.’

  ‘Please do,’ she said, squinting at the drawing. He put the drawing back in the folio and closed it. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked, looking up again, astonished.

  ‘I want your full attention,’ he said. Silver-grey eyes gave him a cool, clear look. He had seen that same look assessing his garden just two days before.

  ‘What about?’ she said.

  He took a breath, then found he was nervous. ‘Is it too cold for a walk in the garden?’ he asked, delaying the moment.

  ‘Of course not. I’ll get my shawl.’

  They went out into the crisp air and walked for a while in silence as William sought an opening for his request. At last he said, ‘You did me the honour of confiding in me recently. I think you said that, much as you loved your brother and sister-in-law, you felt as if you had lost the…relevance you once had to Shearings.’ He looked at her, one eyebrow raised. When she nodded he went on, ‘You would most of all like to have an establishment of your own, perhaps one with gardens where you could work to create the same beauty you have achieved here.’

  Emily frowned. ‘Are you telling me you’ve found something suitable? But it’s too soon. I believe I told you—Philip and Rosa will take a long time to become truly reconciled to such an idea.’

  ‘I agree with you. Moreover, I think they are right to be concerned. Have you never thought that you might feel just as lonely living by yourself as you do now at Shearings? More, even.’

  She looked at him, startled. ‘I would employ a companion, of course.’

  ‘How could you be sure that a paid employee would be as con genial as your sister-in-law? That she would share your interests in the way Mrs Winbolt does? Isn’t it far more likely that she would be a timid spinster, in need of a situation, too afraid of offending you to voice an honest opinion? You are too intelligent to be content with such a com pan ion. Believe me, I think you could well be more bored, and lonelier then than ever before.’ He stole a look at her. She was frowning. He went on, ‘But I think I may have a so
lution for you.’

  ‘And that is?’

  ‘You could help me with a problem of my own. My brother’s children, who are now my wards, are arriving in England very soon. They can stay with Lady Deardon till the end of October, but then the Deardons are going up north to visit their daughter and Thirle will be closed for months. That in itself is not a problem—I want the children to move to Charlwood as soon as possible and the Dower House will be ready for us all by then. But I haven’t yet found anyone who would help me to look after them.’

  ‘And you want me to help you to find someone?’ asked Emily, puzzled.

  ‘I mean I need a wife, Emily.’

  She looked at him blankly for a moment, then understanding dawned and she said, ‘You think that I… Oh, no! That would be quite out of the question!’

  ‘Why? Why is marriage to me out of the question?’

  ‘Because…because we don’t love each other.’

  He regarded her with amusement. ‘I’m not asking you to love me. To be honest, love matches are something I really cannot believe in. I’ve seen too many marriages that began with roses and romance only to end in recrimination and regret. I suppose that’s why I’ve never felt the slightest temptation to fall in love.’

  ‘But that is the only reason for a woman to marry! Philip and Rosa—’

  ‘Nonsense! Really, Miss Winbolt, to assert that a woman needs to fall in love before she will marry is flying in the face of the evidence. Your brother and his wife are very rare examples—the exception that proves the rule. Women marry for any number of reasons—to cement an alliance, to be rich, to be secure, to have a position in life, to give a child a father… Shall I go on?’

  ‘No, I think you have made your point. But such expediency would not suit me. I would only marry a man I loved and respected.’