Frank found Eleanor alone the next time he called at Milbrooke House. She was sitting in the drawing room where they'd had tea during Frank's previous visit, and informed him that Mrs Gilbert had gone out to call on her old nurse who'd fallen ill and wished to see her. She would be back before long, however.
It could have been a brilliant opportunity for him to repeat his offer; Frank thought but decided against it. Eleanor might be better disposed towards him now than she'd been when he'd first seen her in London, but he was not going to ruin the progress he'd made by wanting too much too soon. So instead of trying to convince her that he was the ideal husband for her, he invited her to take a walk in the garden with him. The weather was fine, and Frank felt that it would be better for Eleanor's reputation if she went for a stroll with him where everyone could see them rather than sitting with him in the drawing room without a chaperon for an hour or more.
Eleanor went to her room to put on her pelisse and hat, and joined him in the hallway.
"So, where are we going?" Frank wanted to know as they left the house.
She smiled. "I thought you knew, Captain Morrison, since it was your suggestion that we should walk."
"I am afraid that was the only contribution I could make," said Frank. "I am not familiar with this place; I only know the rose garden, which I thought very pretty last time I saw it but it is not much of a walking destination. Hardly worth putting on your hat which suits you charmingly if I may say so." He noticed the look of surprise on her face and her slight blush and added, "Don't say no one has told you so before, for I shall not believe it."
"I haven't been told recently," she said, recovering. "How far do you want to walk, Captain?"
Frank was well aware that this was her tactful way of putting a question that she feared might make him uncomfortable; she did not wish to know how far he wanted to walk but how far his injured leg would carry him. He told her that he would like to see all of Mrs Gilbert's garden and hoped that it would give him ideas for his own property.
"For although the house is more or less finished, the garden's still a mess," he explained. "A great deal needs to be done there."
She looked interested, but did not ask him any questions about Hanley Park. Instead she asked, "For how long are you planning to stay in London? There must be much work waiting for you in Kent."
"I do not know yet how long I'll stay in Town but I think it will be for a couple of months. Country life does not suit me all that well I am afraid, and there's not urgent business awaiting me in Kent." Frank told her.
"I wonder that you take the trouble of visiting us, then, since you do not care for country life," Eleanor said. She sounded piqued, and Frank wondered whether it was because he had no intention of removing himself from her vicinity or because she'd expected him to make a declaration of some kind.
"That's quite another matter, Miss Swinford, and you know it," Frank said earnestly.
"It is?"
For a moment there was a look of eagerness in her eyes, but it was gone so quickly that Frank feared he must have been mistaken. She probably wanted reassurance, but he wasn't going to give it to her; he suspected that she was not ready for it yet. "But certainly. A day or two in the country can be very refreshing after all the hustle and bustle of Town life," was all he said.
"I see." There was a touch of disappointment in her voice, but again it was gone so quickly that Frank did not dare trust his impression.
"I hope you do not find life here very dull," Frank remarked after a while.
"Oh no how could I? We are keeping ourselves very busy in fact."
"You are?"
"Clara spends a great deal of time with her baby, naturally, and in the mornings she usually writes letters to her husband."
"I thought she must spend most of her days writing to him," Frank said. "Whenever the post reached us in Spain there was a parcel of letters from his wife for Gilbert. A fortunate fellow, I thought, and so did many others. There were some who teased him about it at first, but ever since he told them all there is to know about sour grapes that thing has stopped."
Eleanor laughed. "This sounds very much like my Cousin John," she said.
"So what do you do while Mrs Gilbert plays with her son, or writes letters to her husband?" Frank asked.
"I keep her company, or write letters of my own, or practise my music, or do some needlework," she replied. "When it is warm enough I go for walks in the garden and do water-colour sketches of the flowers or the scenery, or the village. In bad weather I stay inside and practise my Italian Clara is fluent in Italian, did you know? She helps me so much! In return for her assistance I do what I can to lend her a hand with domestic matters."
"You do keep yourselves tolerably busy, I realise," Frank said. "I'm almost beginning to fear that I am keeping you from important household business and that my visits are becoming tiresome. Maybe I should stay away."
"Oh no, do not," she said quickly, her hand reaching out for his. She'd done it unconsciously, no doubt, for when she realised what she'd done she immediately withdrew her hand.
"I I mean it is always nice to have visitors," she said. "I ... I like to hear Town news and always look forward to your telling me what is going on. Listening to you is so amusing! How how is my Cousin Amanda's season progressing?"
"She has made quite a hit, if I am any judge," said Frank. "There are several gentlemen in my acquaintance who are very taken with her."
"Indeed? And is Amanda taken with them?"
"I believe she favours one of them above the others, but it is early days yet; time will tell whether they will form a lasting passion for one another."
"He is a respectable gentleman, I hope," Eleanor said.
"I know nothing to the contrary," Frank replied. "And I know him rather well. So does your cousin John."
"My uncle and aunt do not have cause for anxiety then."
"Not from that quarter, certainly."
"I am glad. I want all my cousins to be very happy."
"What about yourself, Miss Swinford?" Frank asked quietly.
"I beg your pardon?"
"What about your own happiness?"
"I wish to be happy, too, naturally. Who does not?"
"But you do not expect to be." The bleakness in her voice as she'd answered his question had led Frank to that conclusion, and the realisation shocked him. What had become of his Eleanor? She'd always been timid, but never pessimistic.
Instead of answering him, she cried, "Oh look, Captain Morrison, there is Clara! Let us sit down on the bench over there and wait for her!"
That was a kind of answer too, Frank thought, led her to the bench and did as she had told him, but he could not help wondering why it was that Eleanor did not expect to be happy. He began to fear that there was more to her refusal of his offer than she'd said at the time; though what it could have been he did not know. It was not that she did not trust him she would hardly have walked with him if she had not felt that she could safely do so. She might be uncertain of her feelings for him; or of his feelings for her. It was not unlikely. If that was so, Frank hoped to be able to remedy that soon.
But there was something more Frank had noticed the way she retreated the moment she had given him the least bit of encouragement, and the tiniest sign of affection on his part was enough to make her hide in her shell. A girl who was not certain of her suitor's love for her would react differently, he was certain. She'd expect and welcome signs of affection from him and not repulse them. It was almost as if Eleanor was afraid that something unpleasant would happen once she admitted that she loved him, though what it could be he had no idea. Surely she could not be afraid of him - he'd never given her reason to fear him.
He pondered the question all the way back to London but could not come up with a satisfactory explanation for Eleanor's odd behaviour, or her hopeless outlook on life.
As Frank arrived back in London, Collins handed him a letter that had in the meantime arrived from his mother. It informed him that Mrs Morrison, not content with waiting for news in Kent but wishing to be of some use to her son, had come to London and was awaiting his visit at the Bath Hotel. It was too late in the day for him to visit her, and so he merely sat down and composed a note to his mother, telling her that he had only just returned to Town and would call on her the following morning.
Frank was not certain what his mother wished to do for him; there was hardly anything she could do to improve his situation. Of course she could tell Eleanor how things had really been in his family; that he had truly known nothing about his Uncle Peter's existence. She might be able to convince Eleanor that he had not lied to her. But he was reluctant to allow her to do that. It seemed a pathetic thing to do why should he, a grown man, run to his mother and beg her to settle a quarrel for him?
On the other hand it was not impossible that Mrs Morrison could find things out for him. He knew very well that ladies did not tell gentlemen everything that concerned them, in the same way as gentlemen knew that there were some things the ladies of their acquaintance had better not find out. Maybe his mother could discover these things for him not at once, for he doubted that Lady Gilbert, for instance, would confide in a total stranger but once she was better acquainted with the ladies of Eleanor's family. At least it would be worth a try he needed to find out why Eleanor had changed.
He told his mother all that during an excellent breakfast the following morning. As usual, Mrs Morrison calmly listened to what her son had to say and, once his tale was finished, said, "I presume you truly love Miss Swinford. No, don't eat me, my dear; I know you think you do. But tell me this if she really did not care for you, what would you do?"
"If I could be certain that she really does not care for me," Frank said with a sigh, "I suppose I'd leave her be. But I am not certain of that in fact I am almost sure that she does care for me. When I visited her yesterday and hinted at the possibility of my staying away in the future she was shocked, and told me not to consider it. Is this what a girl would do if she did not want to see me? Wouldn't she be relieved, rather, and make sure I got the message?"
"I suppose she would," his mother said. "I will see what I can do, Frank. First of all I shall call on Lady Gilbert not to ask her any questions about her niece, mind you, but to thank her for the kind hospitality and excellent care she has offered my son when he was staying in her house. Whatever else she chooses to tell me will be a bonus." She sighed. "I am afraid I will also have to call on your aunt."
"My aunt? Why should you?"
Mrs Morrison laughed. "Because, my dear boy, sometimes it is easier to discover things by talking to those not connected with the family of the person one wants to get to know. If your aunt thinks you are displaying too much interest in Miss Swinford and she does, I am sure she will do her best to make her look bad in my eyes, knowing that you would never marry a girl that does not find my approval. If there is anything to know to Miss Swinford's disadvantage, your aunt will have discovered it by now, and you may be certain that she will not hesitate to tell me all about it."
Frank did not accompany his mother when she called on his aunt and cousins. He had offered to go with her hoping even as he made that offer that she would refuse it. She did him the favour, telling him that his aunt would hardly dare aim her malice at Miss Swinford while he was present.
"She must know that you are acquainted with her family, or at least some members of her family, even if she is not aware of your intentions regarding her," she said. "So quite apart from fearing that it might make you take her and her daughters in dislike if she speaks ill of Miss Swinford "
"Her dread of my disapproval must have begun at a very recent date," Frank interrupted his mother. "Besides you know I've always disliked them, and so does she."
Ignoring his comment, his mother continued, "She will know that it is important to win me over to her way of thinking. Let us make her believe for a while that I might be in favour of you marrying one of your cousins; she'll be all the more useful that way. Even if it weren't for that I'd ask you not to come with me. Do not tell me you could sit by and listen with equanimity if your aunt said anything against Miss Swinford."
"Certainly not!" Frank exclaimed.
"There you are then. Dine with me at the hotel tomorrow and I'll be happy to tell you everything I may have found out."
So Frank arrived punctually at the Bath Hotel at the appointed time, and was led into a private parlour where his mother awaited him. They did not have an opportunity to talk of the matter in hand while the waiter was still present, although Mrs Morrison did tell her son that his aunt and cousins were still the same as far as she could tell. Whether this had anything to do with what they'd said about Eleanor, or with the way they'd always treated their poor relations, Frank did not know and had no way of finding out until the waiter left them. His impatience to know more became quite evident and appeared to amuse his mother.
"I suppose I should withdraw to my room to let you drink your port," Mrs Morrison teased her son when the waiter left them.
"You need not," Frank assured her. "I do not want to drink any, and even if I did I suppose I could drink a glass of port in your presence without offending your sense of propriety."
She laughed. "Very well," she said. "I'll stay and keep you company."
"I am much obliged to you, ma'am," Frank said with mock formality.
"You'll be even more obliged to me later," his mother said.
"Have you been able to discover something then?"
"I am not certain I do not know anything definite yet. But there is something very odd about the whole affair; as much I do know. I first called on Lady Gilbert, as I told you I would, and luck would have it that while I was sitting with her and her daughter a lovely, charming girl, by the way Lady Gilbert's sister arrived. I am talking about Mrs Swinford."
"I am aware of that," Frank said. "I do not know Mrs Swinford; I've never met her, and what I've heard of her has made me develop an aversion to her. The way she treated Miss Swinford after she'd refused me "
"I am not saying that she handled the situation well," his mother said. "But try to consider the feelings of a mother who fears that her daughter has, out of mere caprice, ruined her last chance of achieving a respectable marriage. This is what it must have looked like to her; which justifies her reaction in my opinion."
"I'd feel more sympathetic if the daughter in question was not the woman I am hoping to marry," said Frank.
"Mrs Swinford is very much in favour of your suit, however," his mother told him. "She was at great pains to convince me that her daughter, though she may have some faults, would be the perfect wife for you if only she could make up her mind to marry you. By the way, she has invited us to dine with her family on Tuesday, and I have taken the liberty of accepting on your behalf as well as my own."
Frank acknowledged this with a nod. If he was going to marry Eleanor, it was about time he met her mother. Maybe his mother was right that it had been Mrs Swinford's anxiety concerning her daughter's future which had made her behave the way she had. For all he knew she might be a perfectly amiable lady. She was Eleanor's mother; they must have a few things in common. Apart from that, Frank thought, he might be able to find out more about Eleanor's sudden change during a family dinner with the Swinfords. What better way was there to discover when Eleanor had begun to act out of character? Who, if not her family, would have noticed? Once he knew when this had begun he had a chance of finding out what or who - had caused it.
"Then I called in Portman Square. Your aunt was very happy to see me, all amiability and conciliation it was hard to believe she was the woman I knew from our family gatherings when your papa was still alive," Frank's mother continued her tale.
"My Uncle Peter's fortune makes all the difference," Frank remarked.
"You do not think that this has escaped my notice? I am not such a ninnyhammer as that," his mother said dryly.
"I have the greatest respect for your intelligence, ma'am," Frank said. "Now, what did my aunt say?"
"Nothing to the purpose at first; she was too busy showing off her daughters' numerous virtues. Here are two candidates for sainthood if ever there were any!"
Frank laughed.
"I am quite in earnest, Frank," Mrs Morrison said, her smile belying her words. "I beg you not to marry either of them; you do not deserve such goodness in your wife. You'd be quite miserable."
"Let me put your mind at rest, Mother. Your wish is my command and I doubt I have ever been happier to obey you" Frank replied.
"Only after she has shown me all your cousins' water-colours, and their samplers, and had them sing some dreadful Italian aria or other to me, she sent the girls away and hinted that unfortunately you had developed a tendre for Miss Gilbert, whom she thinks quite unsuitable. Her words were a dreadfully pert and forward girl, almost as bad as her cousin."
"Forward? Eleanor Swinford forward?"
"It is what your aunt said."
"She cannot have meant Miss Swinford," Frank insisted. "Miss Gilbert is lively, I'll grant her that though I have never found her brazen or ill-behaved. Neither is Eleanor. And what has made my aunt think that I have formed a passion for Miss Gilbert?"
"It is the fact that you attended Lady Gilbert's party although you refused every other invitation you received, or so I have been given to understand."
"I merely refused my aunt's invitations," Frank protested. "Do you blame me?"
"Not at all; but your aunt does, and I fear you will have to accept her next invitation or you will never hear the end of it. Anyway, I told your aunt I was not acquainted with Miss Gilbert's cousin, and she was so kind as to enlighten me. If only half of what she said to me was true I'd be really anxious for your happiness once you are married, but I do not place much confidence in what your aunt has told me. The facts are very much the same I have already heard from you; that Miss Swinford has rejected several suitors it's your aunt's opinion that it was sheer ambition, for no one below the rank of a Marquis will do for her. But she went on to say that Miss Swinford must be a determined flirt who has encouraged these mens' attentions only to reject them when she found out that they were not rich enough or powerful enough to satisfy her ambitions; that she has treated poor Lord Skelling so badly that his heart is quite broken "
"I don't know Skelling very well, but I suspect he has no heart to be broken," Frank said. "Eleanor a flirt? That's complete balderdash. While Skelling has had plenty opportunity to complain to my aunt, Miss Swinford has not had a chance to tell her about her side of the story."
"I thought as much. I also remembered everything you'd told me about Miss Swinford, which is quite the opposite of your aunt's assessment of her character. Even considering that your opinion of Miss Swinford cannot but be good, why should she have encouraged your advances at all? She knew right from the start that you were neither wealthy nor influential! Besides, a truly ambitious girl would take excellent care of her reputation; she would not flirt desperately with all kinds of men in the hope of receiving an eligible offer she'd know no man of standing would marry a woman whose reputation was anything but flawless! I did not say so to your aunt, naturally, but it got me thinking. If someone is spreading such malicious rumours about her and it has come to her ears, it is not surprising that Miss Swinford does not expect to be happy. But who'd spread such evil gossip about her?"
"A jilted suitor perhaps," Frank said grimly. "I suspect Lord Skelling. Walter Swinford told me he turned rather nasty when Miss Swinford showed him the door. He refuses to accept her refusal to marry him and keeps bothering her. But that alone cannot be the reason everyone knows she has jilted Skelling; they'd take anything he says about her with a pinch of salt."
"True. There must be more to it," his mother agreed. "But what it is we have yet to find out. Do you think Lord Skelling is capable of telling lies about Miss Swinford?"
"I think that man is capable of anything," said Frank. "He was born a gentleman but he does not behave like one. Maybe he thinks Miss Swinford will agree to marry him once he has scared away other possible suitors."
"But she has had other suitors, and refused them too!"
"There is that," Frank said. "I thought it was because she was in love with me but I'm beginning to wonder if that was her only reason. For if it was what kept her from accepting me when I came back?"
"It does strike me as odd," Mrs Morrison reflected. "Now if only I could see Miss Swinford and talk to her, but that will not be possible until she returns from the country."
"She is not likely to return soon, I am afraid."
"That's bad." His mother countenance lit up. "What about a house party?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"If we invited your acquaintance to a house party in Hanley Park, I am sure they'd come Miss Swinford too, if we extended an invitation to her family. During that house party I am sure I could find some time to speak to her alone and form my own opinion of her."
"You appear to have forgotten the state Hanley Park is in," Frank pointed out. "We cannot invite guests to stay there before that has been remedied."
"It is not as bad as that," his mother insisted. "The house has been renovated, and although the furniture is old and a trifle out of fashion it will do very well for a while. Mrs Shaw is a competent woman; if you give her free rein she will be able to arrange everything to our satisfaction. The only thing you will need to do is hire a butler."
Frank thought for a while. His mother's idea had merit, he had to admit that. Besides the opportunity of staying under the same roof with Eleanor again appealed to him. Yet he was not certain whether a house party in Hanley Park would serve his purpose.
"I'll consider it," he finally said, and his mother had to be satisfied with that for the moment.
In the end, Frank decided to follow his mother's suggestion and organise a house party in his newly acquired home. The company would have to be carefully selected; it ought to comprise of people whom Eleanor liked and with whom she felt at ease. At all events, this description ought to fit the majority of his guests. Frank was well aware that there was no way he could exclude his uncle's family without giving serious offence, and considering what had been said about Eleanor under their roof he knew that Eleanor would feel far from comfortable in their company.
There was Eleanor's family, of course Frank was going to invite the Swinfords and the Gilberts. Perhaps even her favourite cousin Simon Gilbert could be persuaded to leave his quiet Shropshire parish and come to Kent. She might even confide in Simon one never knew. Simon Gilbert's discreetness as well as his amiable manner invited people's confidences, Frank knew. The youngest Gilbert brother would receive an invitation too even though Frank had never met him; Christmas was not a time when anyone should be alone. If only the eldest brother could come too, Frank thought. He missed his best friend; had not seen him for several months, and wished Captain Gilbert could come home and talk things over with him. There was much good sense in everything he had to say; Frank valued his advice.
Frank did a quick calculation in his head. There were not enough gentlemen among his guests, he realised, and decided to ask his friends, Captain Powell and Mr Edenthorpe, to even out the numbers and lend him their support.
His aunt and uncle were the first to react to his invitation; as he had expected they were quick to accept it and merely asked whether his cousin Charles was also invited or whether he should remain in Oxford over the holidays. Frank, who had not thought of his youngest cousin when he'd made up his guest list, immediately remedied the omission, and thought that if Charlie's character had not changed too much his presence in Hanley Park would do much to enliven their party.
Lady Gilbert, too, was flattered to receive Frank's request for her family's company in his new home, and if Miss Gilbert looked rather gloomy at first her countenance brightened the moment she was made aware that Captain Powell was to be one of Frank's guests as well. Frank was amused to see that Powell's reaction was almost exactly the same as Miss Gilbert's at first he told Frank that he was not at all sure whether his duties permitted him to leave London at that time of the year, but when Frank casually mentioned that he expected the Gilberts to stay with him as well Powell's business in Town turned out to be not important enough to keep him there all the time.
Edenthorpe greeted Frank's invitation with the air of someone who, against all expectation, had been rescued from a shipwreck. He explained that he'd had reason to suppose that Lord Haverford was going to invite him to his country seat, and he could not think of a worse way to spend the festive season than in Lady Penelope Burton's company.
"Honestly, you're a lifesaver, Morrison," he said. "If Haverford invites me now I can claim a prior engagement and will be able to cry off without giving offence."
"I'm always glad to help." Frank grinned. "I do wonder though why don't you want to offend Haverford?"
"Because I'd never hear the end of it if I did. Between them, he and my brother have settled that I am to marry Lady Penelope, and one does not offend one's future in-laws."
"I thought you didn't want to marry her?"
"I don't, but right now I can't see a way out of it," Edenthorpe admitted, with an air of depression. "The only thing I can do is take good care people do not get the impression that I am dangling after her, which will make it easier for me to cry off once I can think of a way. Why is it so difficult to find an heiress who is not only pretty but also amiable? It's not too much to ask, is it?"
"Beautiful, amiable, wealthy and willing to marry you?" Frank laughed. "I agree, your requirements in a wife are not exacting at all! There must be dozens of them around! I wonder you didn't get married years ago!"
"I believe I could settle for someone not quite beautiful, as long as she's good-tempered," Edenthorpe said after some reflection.
"And rich."
"That goes without saying. You don't happen to know a girl who fits that description, do you? If you do, make sure to invite her to your house party so I can make her acquaintance!"
"You'll only find my cousins, I'm afraid, and I don't think there is much to choose between them and Lady Penelope," Frank said. "There's Miss Gilbert, of course, but unless I'm very much mistaken she's already spoken for. And Miss Swinford, but the same applies to her."
"The Cold-Hearted Beauty? That's quite a new development!"
"Edenthorpe, if you value my friendship you will not call her by that name any longer," Frank said.
Edenthorpe stared at him for a moment and then said, slowly, "So that's the way the wind is blowing! - I'm sorry if I've offended you, Morrison. Let me just say that if this is the direction you're looking to for a wife you'd better prepare for severe disappointment. You won't be the first she's sent about his business; nor the last if I'm any judge."
"I know," Frank admitted. "She'll have me in the end, however." A thought occurred to him. "Did she turn you down too?"
"No; but she refused my brother."
"Which of your numerous brothers would that be?"
"Oh, his lordship of course," Edenthorpe laughed. "The rest of us are quite ineligible, as you know." He became earnest again. "It was quite a blow for him when she refused him, mind you, though I don't blame her. I wouldn't have married him either if I'd been in her place. He's a decent fellow, but a dead bore if you ask me; not the kind of man a girl like her could contemplate spending her life with. He wasn't like this when we were boys, I don't know what happened but he's dashed prim and prosy these days. Anyway, unlike others he accepted her refusal like the gentleman he is. He still has a soft spot for Miss Swinford I believe, but he has quite given up his hope of ever winning her."
"Unlike others? Was there another suitor, besides Skelling, who turned nasty?"
"None that I know of. It was Skelling I spoke of," Edenthorpe said. "You know about that affair then?"
"I do."
The more Frank thought of it he was afraid that Skelling was behind Eleanor's odd behaviour. Yet it would have been foolish to disregard other suspects with an equally good reason to speak ill about her, if there were any.
Frank wondered what it could have been that Skelling had done to her. The easiest way to find out, Frank thought, would be to pay the man a visit and beat him up until he told him the truth. However, the method lacked finesse; it would cause an enormous scandal and not serve Eleanor at all. Besides, Frank thought wistfully as he hobbled along Piccadilly towards his lodgings, his present condition precluded a fistfight, however tempting the idea of knocking some of Skelling's teeth out might be.
That Eleanor was truly frightened of Lord Skelling became evident during Frank's next visit to Surrey. Frank had hired a curricle this time so he could take her out for a drive, and had been gratified by her ready acceptance of his offer.
Things went well at first; Frank told her that he was going to dine at her parents' home the following day and that he was rather nervous of making her mother's acquaintance.
She smiled. "Why is that?" she wanted to know.
"There is no saying what she may think of me," Frank said.
"And does my mother's opinion of you matter?"
"It certainly does," Frank said. "I am sure you know why."
"Please, Captain Morrison," she began, but did not finish her sentence.
"You are afraid that I shall press you to marry me," Frank said when it became clear to him that she was not going to say any more. "Rest assured. I will not."
"That was not what I was going to say," she protested weakly, but Frank knew as well as she that this statement was not true.
"I hope you will nevertheless do me the honour and join your family at Hanley Park," he said lightly, letting the matter rest for the moment.
"I shall," she said. "I must confess that I am curious to see your new home."
"I'll show you all over the place," Frank promised. "Though I must beg you not to expect too much; there is a great deal to be done still. My guests will be able to enjoy their stay in tolerable comfort, however." He laughed. "It's quite a new experience to be hosting a party such as this so far I've only been a guest in other people's homes. I am glad to be able to repay their kindness for once."
That moment, another curricle came around the bend ahead of them and drove towards them at a spanking pace.
"Good heavens! It's Lord Skelling!" Eleanor gasped, and went as white as a sheet. "He has a team of greys just like those!"
"They look similar, I admit, but they're not Skelling's horses," Frank tried to reassure her. Without success - it was not until the curricle had passed them and she had seen with her own eyes that its driver was not Lord Skelling that she somewhat calmed down. Frank stopped his own vehicle in front of a small cottage on the roadside.
"Do you want me to get you a glass of water?" he asked. "You do look rather unwell, you know."
"I I am fine," she said. The colour slowly returned to her cheeks, but her hands were still trembling.
"Are you sure? I'm sure whoever lives in this house will be able to give you something to drink. You'll feel better then."
"I am feeling quite well," Eleanor insisted. "Only would you mind very much if I asked you to take me back to Milbrooke House?"
"Not at all I'll be happy to."
"You must think me quite a silly creature," she said as he turned the curricle.
"I know that you are not silly," Frank replied. "But it is quite obvious that you are afraid of Lord Skelling. I cannot help wondering why this is so."
"I do not like unpleasantness," Eleanor said quietly. "Lord Skelling made some unpleasant scenes when I refused his offer of marriage, and I am afraid there'd be another one if he saw me with you."
"You did make it clear to him that you are not going to marry him, did you?"
"There was no way he could have misunderstood my meaning," Eleanor said quietly.
"Then he has no right to be jealous if he sees you with another man."
"This does not stop him from being jealous, however." Eleanor said. "And when he is angry Please, I I'd rather not talk about it."
"As you wish," Frank said.
Back at Milbrooke House, Eleanor took her leave and went to her room she pleaded a headache but Frank was certain that she merely did so to avoid any further discussion of Lord Skelling and his bouts of jealous rage.
Mrs Gilbert, when applied to, was unable to answer Frank's questions regarding Eleanor's fear of Skelling. Eleanor had not confided in her, she said. Although she knew that Eleanor disliked and even feared the man she knew no more about the matter than Frank did.
Frank returned to London none the wiser than before. He would have to place his confidence in his mother's ability to draw Eleanor out or her cousin Simon's, if he could be persuaded to come.
The day after the dinner at the Swinfords' Frank's mother set out towards Kent, to get the house ready to receive his guests. Frank remained in Town for another two weeks, socialising with the young crowd as far as he was able in the hope of getting closer to a solution to Eleanor's problem. But it was hopeless; he could not ask too many questions or his attachment to her would become too obvious, and Eleanor's reaction to what she had thought was Skelling at the time had made it clear to him that she did not wish it to be known, whatever her reason for that might be. While Frank did not quite understand why she felt this way surely she'd had more admirers during her first season in Town and Skelling must have known about them he complied with her wishes and did his best to keep his love for her a secret. Officially, he was merely a good friend of Eleanor's brother, and it was therefore not surprising that Frank should have invited the family to his home. At any rate, no one asked any awkward questions.
About a week before their guests were due to arrive in Kent, Frank too made his way to Hanley Park again. He had given his mother his word to assist her in the final preparations for their house party, and so he reluctantly left London to keep his promise. He had seen Eleanor twice more, but had taken care not to allude to Lord Skelling when he was in her company. It was clear that the mere mention of the man's name upset her, and Frank did not want to cause her any pain. He was afraid that he'd caused her enough already.
He had not seen Hanley Park ever since his first visit there, and was surprised at how different it now looked. His mother and the army of servants she'd allowed Mrs Shaw to hire had done excellent work. Every room in the house had been thoroughly cleaned, the shabby hangings removed and replaced with better ones though not always new ones, his mother was quick to point out, afraid that he might object to the expense of buying new curtains for a mere house party and his mother had added some little touches which made the house look much more inviting and homelike than it had been before. When he'd first seen Hanley Park it had been nothing more than a building site, chock-full of furniture that ought to have been cut up and used as firewood at least twenty years before; and Frank hadn't been sure whether he'd wish to make his permanent home there. It hadn't seemed to him like the place where he would want to settle down with Eleanor and raise their children. Now he began to think that he might be quite content to stay there for the rest of his life provided that Eleanor wanted to live there with him.
The morning after Frank's arrival in Hanley Park a wagon carrying five large wooden crates approached the house. Frank paid no attention at first, thinking that the crates contained provisions for the kitchen, but when his mother told him that they were addressed to him and that she had no knowledge of their contents he directed the servants to carry them into the library. Having paid the carrier, he got Shaw to open the crates for him. Each of them was filled with dozens of books. On top of the books in one of the crates there was a letter, and Frank read it before setting about unpacking the contents.
The letter was from his uncle's stepson. In his missive, his adopted cousin told Frank that these books were the late Mr Hargreave's collection; at least the ones in the English and French languages. The collection also contained a large number of Russian books, and Mr Novikov fully acknowledged Frank's right to have those as well according to his uncle's will, they too were part of his inheritance. But Novikov had been wondering whether Captain Morrison had any use for them was Captain Morrison able to read books in the Russian language? If so, or if he had the intention of learning it, Mr Novikov would be happy to send him his uncle's Russian book collection. If not, Mr Novikov was quite prepared to buy it from him. Frank wrote a polite reply to the letter, telling Mr Novikov that he was welcome to keep his stepfather's books as a token of remembrance and that Frank would not dream of demanding financial compensation for them. He then directed the letter, sent Collins to the post office with it and turned his attention to his uncle's books.
It would be difficult to find room for them, Frank realised. The library was already as full as it could hold with volumes, ranging from scientific treatises to volumes of poetry, drama and novels. There was no way he could fit his uncle's collection into the existing shelves in the library along with all the rest.
"We'll have to put my uncle's books somewhere where they won't be in the way while our guests are here," he said to his mother as they had luncheon together. "Somewhere in the attic, maybe. Once the guests have left we'll have to get a carpenter to put up new shelves in the library to house them."
Frank's mother agreed, but advised him against putting the books into the attic. "There are some empty shelves in what must have been the lady of the house's study," she told him. "Let us store them there. There is no point in getting the servants to carry them up two flights of stairs only to make them carry them downstairs again in a week or two. I have enough work for them as it is."
This sounded like a reasonable suggestion, and after luncheon Frank and the two footmen began with that task. One of the men had the idea of getting a wheelbarrow from the garden shed and loading the books in there; an idea that worked very well for it speeded up the proceedings. Frank arranged his uncle's collection in the empty bookshelves and was pleased to find that most of them would find room there; the rest would remain on the window seat for the time being since, his mother had told him, the room was not going to be in use while their guests were here and so it would not matter in the least.
The final load of books carried in by the footmen contained a collection of some ten notebooks. Frank picked up one of them, wondering why Mr Novikov had found it necessary to send them to him, and opened it. The pages were covered in a closely-written but neat hand.
Arrived in Saint Petersburg last night. I met Valentina's agent this morning; it is apparent that she wishes me to take care of her business matters now that we are married. This will necessitate my learning the Russian language, a prospect that fills me with some apprehension since the language appears to be singularly difficult. Yet I owe it to this kindest and loveliest of women to make an effort, and so I will. Valentina is going to introduce her son to me in the afternoon. I must confess that I dread the meeting. I am well aware that her family disapproves of our marriage. Heaven knows what her relatives may have told the boy about me. It will be difficult to win the boy's trust, yet if I fail I know it will break Valentina's heart. She wants me to adopt him
Frank snapped the book shut. He wondered why Novikov had included anything as personal as his stepfather's diaries in the collection to be sent to Frank. He must have known that Frank did not know his uncle at all was this the reason? Had Novikov hoped Frank would read the diaries to get to know the man who'd left him his fortune? If so, what kind of person did Novikov think he was? Even though his uncle was dead and not any longer likely to suffer if Frank read his diaries for all Frank knew he might not even have minded - , it was just not done. The mere notion revolted Frank, and for a moment he felt his temper rise, thinking that both the fact that Novikov had included the diaries in the book collection as well as his offer to buy his uncle's Russian books from him had been a deliberate insult. It was probably his way of avenging himself on the man who'd inherited the fortune Novikov must have had every right to consider his own.
Frank's first impulse was to burn the diaries, which was what Novikov ought to have done. But there was his mother to consider. Maybe she wanted to have the diaries not to read them, but as a memento of the brother she'd been so fond of. Frank therefore took the diaries and went to the drawing room where he knew he would find her.
As he entered the room she looked up from the flower bouquet she was arranging and, as her eyes fell on the books in his hands, said, "What have you got here, Frank?"
"Among all the rest, Novikov sent us your brother's diaries, Mama," Frank said. His anger was still evident, he was afraid, and his mother seemed to understand what had nettled him.
"Oh! Well, maybe he did not know they were there," she said placidly. "Ten to one he did not pack the crates but ordered his servants to do it for him, and they just put anything into those crates that looked like a book to them. What are you going to do with the diaries?"
"I'd say the best way of dealing with them would be to burn them."
"Don't burn them!" his mother cried. "If you don't want to keep them, I will!"
"Why?"
"Because there is so much I want to know about my brother," she said. "That's why."
"You're not going to read them!" Frank said, aghast that his mother could even consider doing so, let alone tell him so without a blush.
"Why not? I do not think he would have minded," Mrs Morrison said. "He was my brother and I have a right to know what became of him once he'd left England. I've suffered for years not knowing."
There was something in what his mother said, Frank had to admit, and yet
"It does not seem right to me," he said.
"Your sense of propriety does you credit," his mother replied, and added with a smile, "and me too, coming to think of it, for it casts a good light on your upbringing. But extraordinary situations warrant extraordinary measures. Surely you, being a soldier, will be able to understand what I mean! Have you never done something you would not do under ordinary circumstances in order to get yourself and your men out of trouble?"
Frank nodded, and handed the diaries to his mother. "Very well," he said. "I am not saying that I approve of this, but you are old enough to know what you are doing."
His uncle's family were the first guests that arrived, as might have been expected. In fact they came a day early, just as Frank and his mother were getting ready for dinner. Luckily Mrs Morrison had already finished her toilette and was able to hurry downstairs to welcome her brother-in-law's family, sending a footman to the kitchen to apprise the cook of the sudden addition of five more people to their company at the dinner table.
As Frank came downstairs she already had the situation well in hand, assuring her sister-in-law that her family's early arrival did not put her to any inconvenience. Frank's aunt received his polite greetings with a regal incline of her head, which was almost exactly copied by her daughters. Frank's cousin Charlie, whom he had not seen for several years, had grown into a rather good-looking young man who, by means of a rueful grin and a wink, gave him to understand that he'd had nothing to do with this untimely intrusion on his cousin's privacy.
When Frank showed him to his room, he even said so.
"I suppose it was my mother's idea," Charlie said. "She's been talking of the encroaching manners of some people; I don't know which of your other guests she meant. My guess is that she's made sure to arrive early so she could secure the best rooms for us."
Frank laughed. "As far as I know my mother planned our guests' accommodation weeks ago! We would not have put my aunt into the box room!"
"I know that and you know that, but you can't expect my mother to have developed any good sense all of a sudden," Charlie said. "She's my mother and I shouldn't say so, but when brains were handed out she must have been hiding behind the door."
Frank refrained from making a comment but opened the door of Charlie's room for him. "I'm sorry it is not warmer in here," was all he said. "Had we known you'd arrive tonight we'd have made sure there was a fire in here all day. But by the time you go to bed it will be nice and warm I'm sure."
"Oh, I'll be fine," Charlie told him. As Frank made for the door again, he said, "Wait, Frank there's something I must ask you!"
Frank turned and looked at his cousin. "Well?" he asked.
"My mother says you've invited all those people so that Serena could give your house a look-over. She thinks you're going to propose to her. But you aren't, are you? You've never liked Serena above half, have you?"
Frank remembered that Charlie probably had as much reason to dislike his sister Serena as Frank had if not more, for he'd been obliged to spend more time in her company.
"But what kind of gentleman would I be if I told her so?" he asked.
"Frank! Please tell me it's not true!" By this time Charlie sounded truly distressed.
"Rest assured. It isn't," Frank said. "I wonder what gave my aunt that idea there are several young ladies among my guests, and I can't really marry them all."
Charlie's face lit up at the mention of several young ladies. "Well, no, you can't," he said. "But I'd have been really surprised if you'd thought of marrying Serena. To say the truth, you wouldn't be the man I thought you were if you had."
As Frank awoke the next morning and looked out of his bedroom window it was snowing. This was hardly a welcome sight, considering that his guests were supposed to arrive that day. Muttering expletives that would have shocked anyone but Collins had they heard them (Collins was accustomed to hearing even worse language from him during battle), Frank washed and got dressed. It was just his luck, he thought, that when he'd hoped to spend a couple of days in pleasant company he'd be stuck with his relatives instead. It took Frank an effort to be pleasant to his uncle's family at the breakfast table, and he was glad when his mother took the ladies off for a tour of the house and left him alone with his uncle and cousin Charlie once breakfast was over.
His uncle did not demand much in the way of entertainment; once the London newspapers had arrived he retired to the library to peruse them. Charlie was not inclined to study of any sort, however, and so Frank challenged him to a game of chess, a challenge that Charlie accepted in spite of being, as he said, a rotten player. Frank's mind did not concentrate too much on the game, however, and so they were evenly matched every sound from outside made Frank look out of the window to see whether there were any new arrivals, but there were none. He'd almost given up hope regarding his friends, fearing that the snow had seriously delayed their voyage if it had not prevented it altogether, when the sound of approaching carriages drew him to the window once more. This time he was not mistaken: a procession of carriages was coming up the drive. The Swinfords and Gilberts had arrived.
Excusing himself, Frank went outside into the hallway to receive his visitors. Just as the footman opened the door to the newcomers, Frank's mother came downstairs to play her part as the hostess of the party. She was already acquainted with most of the Gilberts and Swinfords, having met them at Mrs Swinford's dinner party the other day. However the younger set of the family, with the exception of Miss Gilbert and Walter Swinford, was still unknown to her, and Frank made the necessary introductions.
As was to be expected, Mrs Gilbert made an excellent impression on Mrs Morrison, as she afterwards informed her son. She applauded the fact that Mrs Gilbert had brought her baby son with her, and, after having discussed the infant with her for a few minutes, decided that Mrs Gilbert was a young woman of excellent sense and with agreeable manners.
Naturally, Frank had been looking forward to introducing Eleanor to his mother; he was curious to see whether they would take to each other, and anxious that they should. So he closely watched their first encounter to try and discover whether they found each other agreeable or not. From his mother's expression when she welcomed Eleanor he could deduce nothing; she greeted the young lady with an air that was calculated to set her at ease but betrayed no curiosity or particular interest in her. In a way Frank was glad that it did not; he was afraid that it might embarrass Eleanor to be singled out. But he was going to ask his mother for her opinion of his chosen bride at the earliest possible moment, and hoped that she had taken a liking to her.
Frank had not seen Simon Gilbert since he'd left Colby Green the previous year, and then Gilbert had been confined to his room in consequence of an unfortunate encounter with a highwayman. The desperate criminal, facing exposure at Gilbert's hands, had tried to shoot him but luckily had missed. Instead of Gilbert's head his shoulder had been hit, and had it not been for the timely intervention of Miss Baines now Simon Gilbert's sister-in-law Frank might well have been obliged to attend his funeral. Gilbert looked perfectly healthy now, however, and when Frank asked him how his shoulder was doing he told him that it was as good as new.
"Not giving you any trouble at all?"
"I wouldn't say that; I do feel a change in the weather occasionally, but that comes in rather useful at times doesn't it?" Gilbert laughed. "You haven't met my brother Ben yet, have you?"
Benjamin Gilbert, the youngest of the Gilbert brothers, greeted Frank shyly and thanked him for the invitation. He appeared to be a pleasant, well-mannered young man. Ben Gilbert was roughly the same age as Frank's cousin Charlie and, as it turned out when they met at the dinner table, they were acquainted even though they were not in the same college. For a moment, they eyed each other with considerable surprise, but to Frank's great relief they immediately recovered and conversed easily enough.
By the time dinner was served, Edenthorpe and Powell had arrived as well. Miss Gilbert's countenance lightened up noticeably when she saw Captain Powell enter the drawing room, and it was only Powell's good breeding that kept him from hurrying to her side at once rather than exchanging a few pleasantries with his hostess at first.
"Disgraceful conduct," Frank heard his aunt murmur to one of her daughters. "I hope I shall never be put to the blush by you behaving in such a fashion, my dear."
Frank had not expected that Mrs Andrew Morrison would view the presence of the Gilberts and Swinfords with a kindly eye, but her malice surprised him nevertheless. It did not bode well for his house party, he thought, and began to wonder whether it had been such a good idea after all.
"Who is the pretty young lady talking to my aunt?" Charlie wanted to know. Frank turned and found his mother in earnest conversation with Eleanor.
"Miss Swinford," he said, taking care to sound indifferent. "She is related to the Gilberts."
"A beauty, isn't she?" Charlie said, staring at Eleanor.
"She certainly is very beautiful," Frank agreed, wishing he could give his cousin a clout on the head to make him stop behaving like a mooncalf. Every young man had to make a fool of himself over a woman at one point; it was a necessary part of growing up, but Frank preferred Charlie to do so over someone other than Eleanor.
"Take care, Charles," Serena said sweetly. "I would hate to see you have your heart broken by a girl of Miss Swinford's cut. She is notorious for being single." She giggled.
"There is nothing disreputable about being unmarried, Serena," Frank said, mimicking her tone of voice. "You are single too, aren't you? Yet no one appears to blame you for it."
Serena flushed angrily, but kept her mouth firmly shut while Charlie grinned appreciatively. He seemed to approve of the set-down his sister had received at his cousin's hands.
Things did not look all too well for his house party, Frank thought as he led Lady Gilbert in to dinner. Luckily, by the time the ladies left the dinner table, the situation appeared to have improved. His mother had things well in hand; his aunt had unbent visibly and was later found in the drawing room discussing child-rearing matters with Mrs Gilbert it was strange how the presence of a baby turned even a formidable dragon such as Frank's aunt into something almost human, Frank thought.
Miss Gilbert was at the pianoforte playing a Scottish air, and Eleanor was sitting on the piano bench next to her, turning the pages for her cousin. Frank's mother was examining her nieces' handiwork they were decorating a tea caddy with paper rolls and patiently listening to their description of the pattern they meant to decorate the lid with.
Frank applauded her good sense in not singling Eleanor out on her first evening in Hanley Park, but determined to speak to her before going to bed, to find out what she thought of Eleanor. In the meantime he did his duty as a host and made a fourth at the whist table with Sir Cecil, Mr Swinford and his uncle. Knowing that Andrew Morrison was quick to take offence at the least provocation, Frank preferred playing a rubber of whist with him to listening to his reproaches all day the next day. After one game, however, he relinquished his place at the gaming table to Edenthorpe, and joined the group that had meanwhile gathered around the pianoforte.
Powell had somehow managed to persuade Eleanor to accompany him and Miss Gilbert on the piano while they were singing a duet. The Gilbert brothers and Charlie were sitting on the window seat and listening to their performance, but as Frank approached their group Ben Gilbert rose to make room for him, and Simon Gilbert invited him to take his brother's place at his side.
"I've been looking forward to talking to you ever since I arrived," he said. "My brother told me about your injury, and I have wondered how you have been doing ever since then."
"The wound's healing, but slowly," Frank said, sitting down. "Which is not what I am accustomed to; I used to heal as quickly as a dog. Maybe it is old age setting in."
"Or it is a more serious wound than any you have suffered before," Gilbert remarked.
"That's for certain. I ought not to complain my leg's still there after all. Others have been less fortunate. To be honest, when I was waiting for a surgeon to attend to me or Collins to find me, whichever happened first I did not even expect to survive."
"A great deal to be grateful for then," Gilbert said.
"I am." Frank said simply. "Have you had word from your brother any time recently? All I got from him were a couple of short notes, nothing substantial. Not that I blame him; he must be very busy."
"I had a letter from him last week," Gilbert told him. "He appears to be rather busy, but otherwise he is well."
"Glad to hear it." Frank looked at Eleanor, who was still playing the pianoforte. She was looking particularly beautiful that evening; her hair was done in a most becoming style and the colour of her gown exactly matched the blue of her eyes. He'd found it hard to take his eyes off her during dinner, though he'd done his best not to rouse his uncle's family's suspicion. They were not to know of his intentions regarding her yet not until he could think of a way to get rid of Skelling.
She appeared to feel his gaze on her, and for a moment she turned and looked at him. There was even the trace of a smile, but she quickly turned back to her music sheet and played on without missing a note.
Simon Gilbert had watched them, and said, quietly, "You are no nearer to winning her than you were before, are you?"
"You know what happened, then?"
"My cousin Walter told me all about it," Gilbert said.
"Can you think of an explanation for her odd behaviour?" Frank asked him.
"None so far; I am sorry," Gilbert told him. "I was quite surprised to hear about it, in fact I was there last spring, and from what I'd seen then I inferred " He broke off. "We'd better not discuss this here and now; one never knows who might be listening. Should you be at leisure one of these days, however, I'd be happy to listen to your conjectures. Maybe there's some way I can help. Eleanor is not happy; I can see as much."
"So can I; and I must confess that I am not much happier."
There was not much Frank got out of his mother when he visited her before going to bed. She told him that Miss Swinford appeared to be a very pretty and good-natured young lady, and that she was looking forward to becoming better acquainted with her. She commended his conduct that evening; he'd spent most of his time entertaining his uncle and cousins and she had noticed his efforts.
"We must think of some kind of entertainment that will allow you to mix with the younger set tomorrow evening," she said.
"I'd be even happier if you could think of some entertainment that will allow me to spend some time with Miss Swinford," he told her.
"I can hardly lock the two of you into the same room," his mother laughed. "But I'll see what I can do, Frank."
In the end it was not Mrs Morrison's intervention that gave Frank and Eleanor an opportunity to speak to each other alone.
Frank went to bed, but could not sleep. He supposed it was because he'd been on his feet for most of the day rather than spending the best part of it sitting down with his leg resting on a cushion, which was what his mother had made him do ever since he'd arrived here. The pain in his leg was almost as bad as it had been during those first weeks after he'd been wounded, and it prevented him from dropping off. After an hour or so of trying to fall asleep, he gave up his struggle and got out of bed again. He'd often noticed how getting up and moving about had had a soothing effect on him when he'd been in pain, and so this was what he decided to do rather than lying down and waiting for sleep that he knew would not come. It was worth a try, at any rate. If all else failed he could still take laudanum; Collins had placed a bottle on his dressing table in the hope of making him take it, but Frank could not bring himself to swallow any unless the pain grew truly unbearable. By now he'd grown quite good at enduring pain, preferring it to the side effects of laudanum.
Frank slipped into his dressing gown and decided to go into the library. There he'd find something to take his mind off the pain in his leg, and he would not disturb anyone by sitting there quietly and reading. With this aim, he left his room and slowly went downstairs, holding on to both the banister and his walking stick, for his leg had been known to give out under similar circumstances. This time it did not, and he reached the library without a mishap. With a sigh, Frank sat down in the easy chair by the fire and took one of the books that were stacked on a small table beside it. For a moment he contemplated the decanter on the other side of the room, wondering whether some brandy would help him go to sleep later on, but the prospect of getting out of his comfortable chair to get to the decanter made him decide against it. Instead, he opened his book, but he did not get to read. Just as he'd found the page where he'd left off the day before, the door opened, and Eleanor came in.
Surprised, he tried to get to his feet but failed. His leg refused to do his bidding, and so he had no choice but to sit down again.
"Forgive me for not getting up, Miss Swinford," he said between clenched teeth.
"Oh! It is you, Captain Morrison!" Eleanor said. "I am sorry, I did not mean to disturb you; only I heard someone move about and wondered who it was. But you are in pain, sir! There is some laudanum in my room, shall I go and get it for you?"
"Thank you, but no," Frank replied. "There's a bottle in my room as well, but I prefer not to take any. It will pass, don't worry."
"Does this happen often?" Eleanor asked, coming closer. For once, Frank thought, there was no trace of squeamishness about her; she simply wanted to help, it seemed.
"Less frequently now, but it does happen from time to time; after a busy day, usually."
"You have been up and about a great deal today," Eleanor said. "This cannot be good for you."
"It has been a pleasure," Frank said. "Apart from that, life goes on. I cannot wrap myself in cotton wool all the time just because my leg might hurt. I am supposed to go back to Spain in summer; by then I ought to be able to march fifteen miles a day or more."
"You are planning to go back then?" Eleanor asked, taken aback.
"A man needs some employment," Frank said. "This is the profession I chose for myself, and it is the only thing I am tolerably good at. What use would I be here?"
"I thought when I heard about your good fortune that was that you would sell out," Eleanor said.
"I might, if there was a good reason for doing so," Frank said lightly.
Eleanor did not pretend to misunderstand him. "If someone gave you a good reason for doing so, you mean."
Frank did not deny that this had been what he'd meant. "That, and if my leg does remain useless," he said. "But I prefer not to think about that possibility yet."
"What are you thinking about then?" Eleanor asked.
"My hopes and wishes," Frank replied, smiling at her and taking her hand. Eleanor blushed. "You'd better go back to bed, Miss Swinford," he went on. "It is getting cold in here and I don't want you to come to any harm."
"What about you? You might catch a cold just as easily," Eleanor retorted.
"I'll go to bed when I feel ready for doing so," Frank said. "But you must go, my " He broke off as he realised what he was going to say, and merely added, "If my aunt finds out that we have been here at night without a chaperon she will surely make the most of it."
"I do not care about your aunt or what she may think of me," Eleanor said, almost fiercely. "But I do not want you to worry, so good night!"
She drew her hand from his, and left the room, only to come back a few minutes later with a blanket that she put around his shoulders.
"Here you are," she said. "I do not want you to catch your death of cold!"
"Thank you," Frank said, and before she could get away he caught hold of her hand and kissed it. "Sleep well, Miss Swinford," he said, letting go of her hand, and Eleanor retreated once more.
Frank settled deeper into his chair, wrapping the blanket closely around him, smiling happily. This was not the behaviour of a woman who did not care for him.
In the morning it became evident that whatever entertainment Frank and his mother had in store for their guests would have to take place indoors. It had been snowing all night, and the ground was covered in some ten inches of freshly fallen snow.
"How good it is that we arrived here yesterday," Miss Gilbert remarked, looking out of the breakfast parlour window. "We would have hardly got through if we'd travelled today."
Frank agreed that the snow would have given the horses some difficulty, and admitted that he'd been anxious for his guests the day before. "But since we all are where we wanted to be," he said, "I do not care if it snows for as long as it likes."
"Until we are to go home," Simon Gilbert laughed, and allowed his sister to pour him another cup of coffee.
"It will become a trifle dull though if we cannot go out," Miss Gilbert said.
"I sincerely hope that it will not," Frank replied. "My mother and I will do what lies in our power to keep you well entertained."
"You may count on me to support you in every scheme you may have in mind, Morrison," Captain Powell said, smiling at Miss Gilbert. "It will not do for the ladies to get bored."
"Indeed I hope they will not," Frank's mother said. "It has stopped snowing, thank Heaven, and I have sent word to Shaw to have a path or two cleared for the ladies who wish to take some exercise in the garden. "
"Oh, this is famous!" Miss Gilbert cried. "How about a snow-ball fight, Captain Powell?"
Powell grinned. "Is this a challenge, Miss Gilbert?"
"Of course it is."
Frank's aunt stared at Miss Gilbert as if she could hardly believe the testimony of her own ears. That a well-bred young lady should even think of making such a suggestion was beyond understanding, and that an equally well-bred gentleman should take her up on it rather than ignore it as he should passed all bounds of what was good and proper. She appeared to be alone in that opinion, however.
Nearly all of the young people (Frank's cousins Elizabeth and Serena being the exception) approved of the idea and, having finished their breakfast, went to put on warm clothes and ventured outside. Frank would have gone with them too, not wishing to give his aunt the notion that he agreed with her view of the matter, but he realised that his crutch would give him much difficulty in the snow. He'd be no match to Powell, or his cousin Charlie, or Edenthorpe and even the ladies, he feared, would not find it difficult to beat him. So he stayed in the house and volunteered to entertain the gentlemen, charging his cousin Charlie with the task of presiding over the impending hostilities in the garden and leaving his aunt and cousins as well as the other ladies to his mother's care. Mrs Gilbert went to her son's room to attend to his needs, and Frank took his uncle, Sir Cecil and Mr Swinford into the library.
Charlie, in the hope of contributing to his cousin's entertainment, led the snowball-fighters to the back of the house where they could be seen from the library window, and decided that the lawn right outside the library would serve them as an excellent battleground. Captain Powell and Miss Gilbert were made the Generals of the opposing armies, and were to select their soldiers. This ended in a great deal of merriment already, but once the armies had been formed both troops went to the opposing sides of the lawn to build both shelter and ammunition, and applied themselves to the task with becoming seriousness. Thus, more than half an hour passed very pleasantly before the actual battle began.
The fight itself was short but all the more fierce. Neither of the parties seemed inclined to have mercy on the other, and it was not until Captain Powell's army stormed Miss Gilbert's walls and the Captain himself took Miss Gilbert prisoner that the fight ended. The shrieks of laughter coming from outside drew Frank to the window occasionally, and he could see that even Eleanor was enjoying herself. He had not seen her laugh so much for ages, and inwardly blessed Miss Gilbert for having had the idea.
Peace negotiations took place in the breakfast parlour; Captain Powell demanded the right for his army to determine the day's entertainment, and some compensation from Miss Gilbert for the injuries he'd suffered in consequence of her attempts to resist capture. He had not thought of anything in particular yet, he said, but was going to give the matter some thought and let her know the outcome within an hour.
"I am not sure I ought to consent to this," Miss Gilbert said laughingly. "Heaven knows what you shall demand of me, Captain! I do not trust you, sir!"
"It was you who started it, Miss Gilbert," Powell reminded her, grinning. "You should not start a battle with a soldier unless you can endure the consequences. You need not worry, however. I promise I shall stay within the bounds of propriety."
"Very well," Miss Gilbert said. "If only because I know that you shall give me no peace otherwise. One must humour gentlemen now and then."
"Wise counsel indeed from anyone who gave you that piece of advice," Captain Powell said.
"I have three brothers, Captain Powell. One might say I learned this particular piece of wisdom while still in my cradle."
The whole party went to change their clothes once more, and gathered in the drawing room afterwards. There they found Frank's mother, Lady Gilbert and Mrs Swinford earnestly studying the Ladies' Monthly Museum and discussing its contents, while Frank's aunt and cousins were sitting by the window, their heads bent over their work. It was apparent that Mrs Morrison disapproved of the frivolity of the younger set, and was determined to keep her daughters on a tight rein. Frank could almost find it in himself to feel sorry for them.
Luckily the suggestion made by Simon Gilbert who'd been in Captain Powell's army and to whom it fell to come up with a new idea for their entertainment was such as not even Mrs Andrew Morrison could dislike, and so her daughters were permitted to join in. They were to play in pairs, and the purpose of the game was to write down words beginning with the same letter fitting into categories they'd agreed on beforehand. The letter was determined by drawing cards, and the fastest couple to fill all their categories won the round. They drew lots to determine who was to play with whom, and luck would have it that Frank was to be Eleanor's partner.
They sat down at a small table in the corner, and as everyone was preparing their list of categories they even managed some private conversation.
"I hope you are feeling better today, Captain Morrison," she whispered.
"Much better, thank you," he replied, and added, "I am not always an invalid, but some days are worse than others."
"Let us hope, then, that the bad days become less frequent." Aloud, she said, "There you are, Captain all neatly written down. Shall I do the writing for us or do you want to do so?"
"Please write, Miss Swinford. I have a damnable scrawl at the best of times, so you may imagine what it looks like when I'm in a hurry. It won't help us if we're the first to finish but cannot decipher our results."
"Very true, sir. But I warn you; I am not going to do all the work and let you take the credit for it!"
Frank laughed. "You will not have to, I promise." She appeared to have dropped her guard for the time being, and was almost like the girl he'd fallen in love with the year before. Since it was only the first day of Eleanor's stay, Frank had some hope that her state of mind would improve further the longer she remained at Hanley Park.
As it turned out they were a good team. Frank was quick to think of words that fit the categories, and Eleanor just as fast at writing them down. They won several rounds of the game, and in the end they had to yield only to Simon Gilbert and Frank's cousin Elizabeth. This, Frank cheerfully informed Eleanor, did not count since the person who'd suggested a pastime should never end up winning. By now it was time for everyone to dress for dinner, and the discussion of who'd really won the game had to be postponed.
After dinner, Frank's mother invited her in-laws as well as the Gilberts and Swinfords to a quiet game of Commerce, but the younger set decided that they did not want to play any card games that evening. This time it was Frank's cousin Charlie who made a suggestion which was much applauded and, eventually, adopted. They were to play Forfeit. Since it was Charlie's idea, he was the first to take the part of Auctioneer and left the room, while the others put some small items belonging to them into a bag. Upon Charlie's return, he took hold of one of the items in the bag and asked the assembled company what its owner should do in order to have it returned to them. Once they had agreed on a suitable price, Charlie removed the item from the bag and showed it to them. The owner then had to pay the price in order to get their property back.
One by one they reclaimed their possessions Edenthorpe had to stand on a chair and recite one of Shakespeare's sonnets (with the help of a volume Frank had got from the library or they'd have waited till Christmas for him to accomplish the task), Frank ended up building a snow owl on the terrace (to be honest the result looked more like some as yet unidentified species, but Frank's audience did not care for accuracy), and Serena got off lightly and merely had to eat two buns within a minute. She failed, but got her hairpin back anyway for attempting the impossible.
Miss Gilbert juggled three balls of wool with astonishing ease, and her sister-in-law sang a duet with Captain Powell. In the end there was only one item left in the bag, and everyone including the Auctioneer knew what it was. It was Eleanor's bracelet.
"The last item now, ladies and gentlemen," Charlie announced. "What is to be done with it? Name the price!"
"Give the owner five minutes to draw the likeness of the person sitting next to her," Simon Gilbert said.
"Oh, how dull!" Miss Gilbert exclaimed. "I cannot think it will be entertaining to watch somebody draw someone else's portrait."
"Can you think of something better then, Miss Gilbert?" Edenthorpe asked.
"Not on the spur of the moment, no," Miss Gilbert admitted.
"Let her tell us a story," Frank suggested.
"A ghost story!" Miss Gilbert cried. "Let it be a ghost story!"
Frank knew that Eleanor disliked ghost stories, and protested. "I'd prefer something to make us laugh," he said. "I don't want anyone to frighten my guests, thank you very much."
"Let her tell us what she did at Lady Weston's ball last year, then," Serena suddenly said. "It may not be amusing, but it would certainly be enlightening." She looked at Eleanor. "Don't you agree?"
Eleanor went as white as a sheet, but stood her ground. "I agree with you, Miss Morrison," she said quietly. "It would not be amusing at all."
"Then we don't want to hear it," Frank said. "An amusing story is what I want to hear."
"A ghost story," Miss Gilbert insisted.
"How about an amusing ghost story?" Simon Gilbert asked. "To please both my sister and our host?"
Everyone agreed with that, and Eleanor started telling her story. But, Frank realised, her manner was very much what it had been when she'd thought they were about to meet Lord Skelling. She was frightened, and it had nothing to do with having to entertain the assembled company with a ghost story. Frank suspected that whatever had happened at Lady Weston's ball was at the root of Eleanor's odd behaviour, and it was very likely that Serena knew or suspected what it was. He was not going to give her the satisfaction of asking her, however. Right now he felt like strangling her with his bare hands, and had better not address Serena until some of his anger had quieted down. Maybe there was some other way of finding out what had happened. Eleanor, he was afraid, was not going to tell him.
Later in the evening most members of the house party had already retired to bed, only Frank, Charlie, Walter Swinford and Simon Gilbert remained downstairs and were sitting in the library, enjoying a glass of brandy to round off the evening before turning in for the night.
"I'm sorry for what happened tonight," Charlie said. "If I'd known Serena would turn nasty I wouldn't have suggested that game. Though I should have known. Such fun we had; trust Serena to spoil it! We should have tied her up and gagged her and locked her into the cellar to keep her from making mischief."
Frank grinned. "Propriety forbids me to tell you how much I like this idea," he said. "I don't blame you for what happened, Charlie. I do wonder what made Serena act the way she did, though."
"Sheer malice," Charlie guessed. "She knows she can't hold a candle to Miss Swinford and resents that. You know my sisters; they are as spiteful a pair of cats as you'll find anywhere. They got you into trouble often enough, Frank; Serena especially."
"It is one thing to report one's cousin's youthful indiscretions to his father," Frank said. "I'm not saying that it's the kind of behaviour to endear one to one's relatives, yet it's comparatively harmless even though not entirely acceptable. But deliberately trying to damage a lady's reputation is another thing altogether."
"Not in my sister's book," Charlie said darkly. "I really am sorry. I wonder what my mother will be at, letting Serena make such a figure of herself! That way she'll never catch herself a husband!" He drank up his brandy, put down his glass and went to bed.
"There's more to it than mere spite," Frank said when he could be tolerably certain that Charlie was out of earshot.
"Jealousy, perhaps?" Simon Gilbert suggested.
"Not for my sake, I'm sure," Frank said. "I've never given my cousin a reason to suppose I'd any intentions regarding her. If she thinks I am planning to make her an offer of marriage it must have been her mother who gave her that impression."
"Maybe it's about Lord Skelling," Walter speculated. "Miss Morrison's often seen in his company, and you know Eleanor refused Skelling's offer."
"Having refused him, Eleanor can hardly be viewed as a rival for his affections," Frank said. "Serena in love with Skelling? If so, she's welcome to him; they'll make a charming couple to be sure. But it is my impression that Skelling does not want her. That man does have some sense. I do wonder what she referred to. What did happen at Lady Weston's ball, Swinford?"
"I don't know," Walter Swinford said. "Nothing out of the ordinary or my mother would have told me."
"Weren't you there?"
"I might have been." Walter Swinford frowned for a moment, giving the matter some thought, and then said, "No, I wasn't. I remember Lady Weston's ball was in May and I couldn't go because I had a devilish toothache. Had to have my tooth drawn a couple of days later, there was nothing for it hang on! I believe it was the day after Lady Weston's ball that Skelling proposed to my sister! I'm not entirely certain but I could ask my father; he might know."
"Do you think that something happened at the ball that might have impelled him to take this step?" Simon asked.
"I couldn't say, since I wasn't there but you know the London gossips. If anything untoward had happened it would have been all over town within a few hours. So I don't suppose there was anything to excite their interest. It was common knowledge, by that time, that Skelling had taken a fancy to Eleanor. No one was much surprised when he offered for her."
"There were those who were surprised when she refused him," Simon told Frank. "None of us who knew her and who were aware of her attachment to you, Morrison, but those who were not well acquainted with her. I can see why many women have been on the catch for Skelling; he's considered a matrimonial prize of the first order."
"Really? Even if one takes his nasty temper into account?" Frank asked.
"Unfortunately his fortune and situation in life seem to make him acceptable to most people," Simon said. "Even my aunt fell for the lure of rank and fortune for a while. Luckily she has realised her error. I think by the time you returned she would have been willing to countenance Eleanor's marriage to you even if you had not inherited your uncle's fortune."
"I would not go so far as to say that," Walter said, smiling. "But I think she was quite prepared to accept any respectable offer for Eleanor, provided Eleanor accepted it too."
"Never mind about that," said Frank. "I am convinced that whatever happened at Lady Weston's ball is the reason for Eleanor's subsequent behaviour. Skelling must have some hold over her, and it is essential for us to find out what it is."
"Since your cousin referred to Lady Weston's ball I gather that if there is anything to know she will know it," Simon told him. "She may have witnessed something, or may be in Skelling's confidence."
"I am aware of that, but I am not going to do her the favour and ask her," Frank said darkly. "After tonight's work she'll be lucky if I talk to her at all."
"Maybe Eleanor will tell me," Walter mused. "Though if there was anything unpleasant at that ball and she has not told me yet there is little chance of her doing so now."
"I do not want you to distress your sister," Frank said. "The mere allusion was enough to terrify her didn't you see her face when Serena made her nasty remark? Good God, it was enough to make me " He broke off. "I wish she'd accept me and give me the right to protect her; that's all," he said with a sigh. "I'd deal with Skelling exactly as he deserves to be dealt with, and there'd be an end to it. I did have the impression that she was warming towards me, but thanks to Serena I'll have to start all over again. Maybe I'll give Charlie permission to put his suggestion for Serena's entertainment into practice. I certainly am in the mood to do so."
During the night it had begun to snow again, and by morning it became clear that they would not be able to attend the Sunday service in the village church as they had planned. Simon Gilbert, upon hearing that piece of news, volunteered to conduct prayers in the library for those religiously inclined. This offer was eagerly accepted and so Frank's family and guests gathered in the library after breakfast. Frank had attended Simon Gilbert's sermons before, and was looking forward to the prayer meeting as a treat. Gilbert was a highly popular vicar among his parishioners; his eloquence as well as his ability to put his lessons into such words as would reach even the most ignorant of them was almost proverbial. His sermons were never patronising and, according to Simon Gilbert, preaching a dull sermon was a capital offence; for where was it written that instruction must of necessity be boring? Nowhere in Scripture, certainly, or he'd have come across that rule at one point. The majority of his flock in Colby Green agreed with him in this matter, and there were those who felt that Mr Gilbert had no right to go away and waste his talents elsewhere, as he was planning to do.
It looked as though Frank's aunt had promoted Simon Gilbert to the rank of Marriage Prospect, for after the sermon she earnestly discussed religious matter with him, doing her best to draw Elizabeth into the conversation, probably to show him what a good parson's wife she'd make. Gilbert, while humouring Frank's aunt and politely listening to her views on morality, showed no interest in Frank's cousin Elizabeth. Undeterred, Frank's aunt continued in her lecture on how shockingly most young people behaved these days, and how relieved she was to find that integrity and moral fibre was still to be found occasionally. Her attention as well as her daughters' being engaged, Frank thought it safe to go and sit with Miss Gilbert and Eleanor. Miss Gilbert was holding her sketchbook, and trying to persuade her cousin to sit for a portrait.
"But I am not in my best looks," Eleanor protested. This was true, Frank thought; she looked wan and tired.
"You are always in excellent looks, Miss Swinford," he said soothingly. "If you oblige your cousin, I shall endeavour to entertain you."
"There you are! Captain Morrison will read to us! Won't you, Captain?"
"I certainly shall," Frank promised. "If I may make a suggestion, why don't you repair to the drawing room? The light there is much better, and it'll be quieter too."
"Oh yes, let's!" Miss Gilbert cried immediately. "Come, Eleanor, we'll choose a nice, bloodcurdling novel for Captain Morrison to read to us and settle down in a quiet corner in the drawing room."
Eleanor shuddered. "Thank you, I don't particularly fancy listening to a bloodcurdling novel. Last night's ghost story has kept me awake for long enough."
"A comic novel then," Frank suggested. "Something to make you laugh."
"But how is she going to keep her posture if she laughs all the time?" Miss Gilbert asked.
"Much more easily than while she is trembling with fear," Frank retorted. "I think I've got the perfect book somewhere. All I need to do is find it. Go to the drawing room and prepare everything you need for your portrait, Miss Gilbert, and I'll follow you once I've discovered it."
Miss Gilbert took Eleanor's hand and drew her out of the room, and Frank went to the bookshelf where he hoped to find a copy of Tom Jones. Not long ago he'd seen it on one of the shelves. Naturally, he hadn't wanted it then. Now that he did he suddenly found it quite difficult to remember where it had been. Captain Powell joined him at the bookshelf, saying, "That's an unfair trick to play on a man!"
Frank grinned. "Want to keep us company? I'm quite sure Miss Gilbert won't mind if you do. We could take turns in reading to the ladies." He lowered his voice. "I just needed to get Miss Swinford on safe ground."
"I thought as much," Powell said, taking the first volume of Tom Jones from the shelf and handing it to Frank. "Is this what you are looking for?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Do you think Miss Swinford will talk to you if I distract Miss Gilbert's attention for a couple of minutes?"
Frank laughed. "What a sacrifice to our friendship! I'll be much obliged indeed! I hope she'll talk to me anyway, though I'm afraid she won't tell me what I really want to know. Not yet, if she ever will. Still, I'll be obliged to you for giving me a chance to speak to her alone. And I'm pretty certain you'll be well suited with me drawing Miss Swinford's attention away from her cousin for a few minutes."
They found Miss Gilbert alone in the drawing room, preparing her sketchbook.
For a moment, Frank wondered if Eleanor had decided not to spend the morning in his company and made her escape while she still could.
"Oh! Has your cousin deserted you, Miss Gilbert?" he asked.
"Nothing of the kind. I have asked her to go and change into her blue gown. It flatters her complexion so; don't you agree?"
"I have yet to see Miss Swinford in a dress that does not suit her," Frank said.
"Oh, she has excellent taste," Miss Gilbert agreed. "And she is so pretty she can wear anything. If she weren't so good-natured I'd probably hate her. Will you help me choose the perfect setting for my picture while we wait? I've decided on water-colours rather than pencil, by the way. Hence the blue dress."
"I suspected as much," Captain Powell said. "A wise decision, if I may say so."
"You may, sir," Miss Gilbert said, smiling at him. "Though I wonder how much you really know about art."
"Nothing at all. I simply trust that all your decisions must be wise."
Miss Gilbert laughed. "I should not listen to flattery, I know."
"But it's so agreeable, isn't it?" Powell grinned.
At least one of them was making progress in his courtship, Frank thought, waiting impatiently for Eleanor to return.
Eleanor did come back to the drawing room five minutes later, dressed in the blue gown she'd worn at dinner on the night of her arrival. She did look beautiful in it though Frank was prepared to admit that he was prejudiced in her favour.
"Where do you want me to sit, Amanda?" she wanted to know, and then said to Frank, "And with which work of literary art are you going to entertain us, Captain Morrison?"
"Tom Jones," Frank replied. "Are you acquainted with it?"
"Not really; I am not sure my mother approves of it. Although Walter has read it, I think, and found it rather entertaining if I remember correctly."
"And do you trust your brother's taste in literature?"
"Implicitly." She smiled.
"I think you should sit here, Eleanor," Miss Gilbert interrupted their tκte ΰ tκte. "By the window. The light here will do very well."
"But won't it be draughty?" Frank objected.
"You need not worry, Captain Morrison. I think I'll be very comfortable," Eleanor said, quickly touching his arm as if to reassure him. "It is not cold in here; the fire has heated up the room quite nicely."
That was probably so, but Frank was still worried. "Are you sure, Miss Swinford?"
"Perfectly sure. I am not as frail as I may look."
Giving in, Frank pulled up a chair for Eleanor and waited until Miss Gilbert was satisfied with her cousin's posture. Then he, too, settled down carefully choosing a spot where he could keep an eye both on Eleanor and Miss Gilbert's progress, and started to read. Eleanor seemed to have recovered her calmness, he thought gratefully. She even smiled at him occasionally, and eagerly discussed the book with him whenever he stopped reading. If only Serena could be kept from making more mischief, he thought, Eleanor might begin to feel comfortable in Hanley Park. Charlie's suggestion regarding Serena had really had its merit.
Even when Miss Gilbert declared her watercolour painting finished, Eleanor was in no hurry to make her escape. She remained where she was chatting with her cousin, Frank, and Captain Powell, and obviously feeling at ease. Frank said a silent prayer that her current mood would last.
"It is too bad we cannot venture out into the garden," she said. "Do you remember, Captain Morrison, when we were staying with my aunt in Shropshire? We used to walk in her garden for hours!"
"I do remember," Frank said, smiling. "For many reasons."
"I was referring to our garden walks, nothing nothing more," Eleanor said, blushing slightly but not really flustered as far as Frank could tell. The memory did not appear to cause her any pain, either, Frank was pleased to note.
"So was I. You were particularly fond of violets, weren't you? Too bad I cannot offer you any in my garden; it is not their time of year I am afraid. We'd have to dig them out."
"Still it would be lovely to go for a walk. I long for some fresh air!"
"Shall I send word to Shaw to have him clear a few paths for tomorrow?" Frank asked.
"Only if it stops snowing at one point," Eleanor said. "It seems unreasonable to tell a man to clear the paths in the garden when we all know he cannot keep up with the weather."
"That is true," Captain Powell agreed. "There's no point in demanding the impossible of the poor fellow."
"I have a better idea than going for walks in the garden," Miss Gilbert said. "What if your gardener clears a sledding track somewhere in the garden for us?"
"And where, Miss Gilbert?" Frank asked. "Mind you, I am not opposed to your idea. It sounds like fun, in fact." None of his companions was so tactless as to even look at his crutch, let alone suggest that his injured leg might not be up to the exercise, Frank noted. Not that he was going to stay inside this time. He was going to take part in this entertainment no matter what. No doubt he'd have to pay the price later, but it would be one he'd pay willingly. He turned to Eleanor. "Do you think you would enjoy that, Miss Swinford?"
"I have not been on a sled for ages," Eleanor faltered. "Not since I was a little girl, surely. But I remember that I used to enjoy it then, so why not now?"
"Why not, indeed? I'll ask Shaw to clear a track for us somewhere in the garden not too far from the house, or it will also require him to clear all the paths as well, and we have all agreed that this cannot be done. Which only leaves one thing for us to do; and that is to search the attics to see whether there are any ancient sleds that we can make use of."
"Let us hope there are any fit for use," Powell said, throwing a damper on their high spirits. "I for one do not want my sled break to pieces the moment I sit down on it. An overrated experience, I have always thought."
"That depends on one's point of view," Frank said, grinning. "Whether you are taking an active part in the proceedings or merely observe them. From the spectator's side it can be quite entertaining."
"In that case I do hope I'll be able to enjoy the spectacle in the position of a spectator in order to properly appreciate the humour of the situation," Powell retorted. "Shall we have a look in the attics then? I do not suppose the ladies will want to come with us it must be dusty up there."
"It is not," Frank assured him. "The entire house, including the attics, has been cleaned fairly recently. I should know because I have been chased from one room to the next for weeks."
"Mrs Morrison is an excellent housewife," Eleanor observed. "But even if it were dusty up there I would come and make sure I choose the right sled. Like Captain Powell I prefer to be the observer if a sled collapses under somebody's weight."
"Ah yes you are not prone to taking risks, are you, Miss Swinford?" Frank said.
"Not recently," Eleanor said, and with this puzzling remark she took her cousin's arm and asked Frank to lead the way upstairs.
As they reached the attic, Captain Powell took Miss Gilbert to one side of the huge structure while Frank and Eleanor were to search the opposite side.
"What did you mean when you talked about taking risks, Eleanor?" Frank asked her as he pulled some large wooden crates aside so they could have a look at what was stored behind them. "When have you ever taken a risk?"
"When I was with my aunt in Colby Green," she said simply. "For all the good it did me."
Forgetting the low wooden beams supporting the roof, Frank quickly rose from his stooping position and promptly bumped his head. Swallowing the curse that naturally came to his lips, he said, "What do you mean by that?"
"For a young woman, losing her heart means taking a considerable risk," Eleanor said.
"You lost your heart in Colby Green!"
"You know I did."
"Have you ever found it again?" Frank asked, taking her hand.
"Not yet," she replied. "It remains lost. The problem is it's not only my heart that is lost, and I don't know what to do."
"You needn't be afraid, Eleanor. If there is anything anything you want me to do if I can help you in any way "
"I do not think you can," she said sadly.
"Try me. You'd be surprised at the things I can and will do for you if you let me, Eleanor."
She removed her hand from his. "I know. But I have no right to ask it of you," she said. "Frank, for your sake as well as mine "
"Eleanor, come and look! We have found three sleds that should do!" Miss Gilbert cried.
"We're coming!" Eleanor replied, and then said, quietly, "We had better go and join them."
"Wait a moment, Eleanor. We need to talk," Frank said.
"Not here and not now, Frank. This is not the right place for the kind of conversation that we need to have."
"Fine. Tonight then. In the library when everyone else has gone to bed. No one will disturb us there."
Eleanor nodded, and then made her way to the other side of the attic to examine Captain Powell and Miss Gilbert's find.
The evening went rather better than the previous evenings had led Frank to hope for. His aunt, keen on making a good impression on Simon Gilbert, had turned her attention to this young clergyman, which left Frank free to act as he chose. He was sitting with the young crowd, and was planning the next day's sledding adventure with them. As he had foreseen, the youngest members of the party especially Ben Gilbert and Frank's cousin Charlie applauded the idea and immediately came up with some notion of conducting a sled race.
When Frank pointed out that the ladies could hardly be expected to take part in such a dangerous venture, Charlie said, "But we need them to take part. It's going to be an uphill race. The ladies sit down on the sled and we pull them up the hill. It won't be dangerous at all."
Miss Gilbert greeted the notion enthusiastically, and Eleanor, though not equally enthusiastic, agreed to take part in the race since her cousin clearly wanted it to take place.
"We will have to think of a prize," Mrs Gilbert suggested in her calm, no-nonsense kind of manner.
"I know for a fact that Mrs Shaw keeps an almond cheesecake in the larder," Mrs Morrison said. "What do you say to that?"
"I say it's a prize worth fighting for," Frank laughed. "Mrs Shaw's almond cheesecake is the best I've ever eaten, and my standards are pretty high in that respect."
The rules of the race were negotiated then, and it was determined that in order to obtain conditions fair for every participant, there should be two rounds with Miss Gilbert on the sled during the first round, and Eleanor during the second round. Frank, whose new pocket watch was considered to be the most accurate, was to take care of the timekeeping. Once the race was done with, the sleds and the racing track should be given over to everyone who fancied sledding downhill. The competitors taking part in the race were Ben and Simon Gilbert, Walter Swinford, Captain Powell and Charlie Morrison. Frank's female cousins and Mrs Gilbert, though not disinclined to watch, were not going to take an active part in the race, although Mrs Gilbert offered Frank assistance with the timekeeping. The next day promised to be an amusing one, but the prospect of an interview with Eleanor late that evening not a pleasant conversation, he feared somewhat dampened Frank's spirits. He thought, however, that by now almost anything would be better than not knowing what was going on in Eleanor's mind.
Frank did not bother with going to bed. He remained in the library, claiming he still had some work to do, and waited for Eleanor to come to him. At about half past twelve he almost feared that she had forgotten about their rendezvous, or that she'd fallen asleep or that her courage had deserted her. He was going to wait for another half hour and, if she had not appeared by then, go to bed as well, Frank decided.
It was shortly before one o'clock, and Frank had almost given up on Eleanor when he heard her light steps approach the door. The door opened slowly, and there she was in her nightgown, dressing gown and slippers, stepping hesitantly into the room.
"I am sorry I kept you waiting," she whispered. "But your cousin was still up I could see the light in her window, so I did not dare come downstairs."
"I had no idea Serena kept such late hours," Frank said.
"Not usually, but for some reason she did tonight. I think she is asleep now, though. The light has been out for half an hour."
"Good." Frank got up and led Eleanor to the easy chair by the fireside. "Sit down, Eleanor, and tell me what you want to say."
For a few minutes there was silence. It seemed as if Eleanor was struggling with herself, maybe trying to find the right words to say what she wanted him to know.
"I I am afraid you will not like it," she finally began.
"I am afraid so too," Frank admitted. "But whatever it is, say it, Eleanor. I can handle it, I promise."
Eleanor sighed. "Very well. I think I had better leave this place."
"Why do you think so?"
"It would be wrong of me to stay and give you false hopes. You see, I know why you wanted me to come you thought being in your company would make me relent towards you, didn't you?"
"That thought did occur to me, yes. It did not work then?"
"It made me realise that I still love you, but that's not the point."
"It isn't?"
"No. I love you, Frank, with all my heart, but I cannot marry you. I I've decided to stay single."
"Is this all the explanation I'll get?" Frank asked when she hadn't said anything further for a few minutes. "That you're going to stay single even though you love me?"
"It's something something I'd rather not talk about," Eleanor said. "It will only cause you pain to know."
"You're already causing me a great deal of pain, Eleanor. It cannot get any worse."
"You deserve better than being married to me," she said, after a pause. "I cannot marry anyone. Not any more."
"Is it because of something that happened since I left Colby Green?" Frank asked.
"Yes. There was something." Eleanor admitted. She did not get any further. The door burst open, and Frank's cousin Serena came in.
"It is quite a habit of yours to slip away for secret assignations with some gentleman or another, isn't it, Miss Swinford?" she sneered. "You are not too particular as to whom you trap with your wiles as long as you do! And this time it's my poor cousin who has fallen for you!"
Frank was the first to recover from his shock. He went over to the door, which was still open, closed it, and leaned against it so Serena could not make her escape.
"Will you be so kind as to explain what you are talking about?" he said coldly.
"Merely that this is not the first time I caught her in a compromising situation with a man," Serena snapped. "And when he tried to do the decent thing the next day she sent him about his business!"
Frank turned to Eleanor, who was still in her chair, sinking back into the cushions and trying to make herself as invisible as possible. "Is this true?" he asked her.
"I I was just going to explain when your cousin came in," Eleanor whispered. "But it's not quite what you think."
Frank opened the door again, and held it open for Serena. "I think Miss Swinford and I have something to talk about," he said. "You had better go back to bed, cousin. I appreciate your anxiety about me but let me assure you that it is not at all necessary for you to worry. I'm used to looking after myself. Good night."
It was probably the look in his face that had made Serena realise she'd made a bad move. At any rate she made no reply but ran up the stairs instead. Frank listened until he heard Serena's door slam shut upstairs, and then closed the library door again.
He looked at Eleanor and said, gently, "Tell me what happened, my love."
For a few minutes it seemed as if her courage had deserted Eleanor. She was silent, but it was not the silence of one who was not going to speak. It was the silence of someone who knew what she had to say but did not know how to start saying it. Frank, sensing her difficulties, did not press her. He pulled up another chair next to hers, sat down, took her hand and waited. This, he knew, was going to be difficult for both of them; there was no need for him to further complicate things by trying to force Eleanor's confidence. Once or twice she turned to him and it looked as if she was going to begin, but then she appeared to change her mind and remained silent.
Finally, she said, "It happened at Lady Weston's ball last year." Frank nodded. This was what he'd already suspected and did not come as a surprise.
"The man your cousin saw me with was Lord Skelling." That, too, was nothing new.
"It was a very warm night, and the candles and the people in Lady Weston's ballroom were heating it up even more. The atmosphere in the ballroom was becoming unbearably oppressive and I was in need of a breath of fresh air. This was what I said to Lord Skelling when our dance ended, and he offered to take me outside to the terrace to cool down." She took a shuddering breath. "And so we went."
Another silence followed, and for a moment Frank wondered whether he ought to say anything to encourage Eleanor, to make her continue. He decided not to; instead he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. He was rewarded with a grateful look.
"We stayed on the terrace at first, with a group of other young people who'd come out for the same purpose," she said. "There was laughter; we were joking and talking, and it was altogether agreeable. Then someone suggested leaving the terrace and going into the garden, and Skelling was all for it. I was not, but when it was pointed out to me that we were not going to be alone I decided not to be a spoilsport. It was still fun, but at one point Lord Skelling pulled me away from the others and kissed me. I I was shocked. It was neither what I'd anticipated, nor had I ever wanted him to kiss me. It was it was disgusting!" By now, there were tears in Eleanor's eyes, but she was still holding on to her rigid control of herself. "I pushed him away and told him to leave me alone. I may even have boxed his ears, I cannot quite remember. That was when he got angry the names he called me! It was not the kind of language I was used to hearing from a man! But the worst was yet to come."
That was when Eleanor's control left her. She broke into sobs, and for a few moments Frank watched her helplessly, wondering whether taking her into his arms would help her or make her recoil from him in disgust, considering the matter she'd been talking about. In the end he took that risk, pulled her into his arms and let her have a good cry on his shoulder. She showed no sign of resistance.
"He pushed me into a wall, and kept me there, kissing me and I think it would have gone even further if it had not been for your cousin, who found us there."
"I did not think I'd ever have a reason to feel grateful for anything my cousin Serena did, but it seems I do," Frank said quietly.
"Yes. If she had not found us I do not know where it might have ended. In my complete and utter ruin, I suppose. At the very least I'd have been obliged to marry Skelling to keep up a semblance of respectability. I made my escape then. Luckily my dress hadn't suffered much in the assault; I could return to the ballroom without anyone noticing anything odd in my appearance. I went to find my mother, told her I had a headache and persuaded her to take me home. I do not know what Skelling said to your cousin to explain the situation but it seems obvious that she blames me for what happened."
"I do not, Eleanor." Frank said. "The fault was all Skelling's. There is no excuse for his behaviour."
"I thought so too, at first. But once at home I started wondering it must have been my fault after all. If it had not been for me we would not have gone outside in the first place, and even if we had I should not have agreed to the garden scheme. I gave him the opportunity to act the way he did! I am as much to blame as he!"
"Eleanor, no matter how tempting the opportunity may be a man does not force himself on a woman!" Frank said. "His conduct has been vile and dishonourable from start to finish. You had every right to expect a man to know how to properly behave in your company! You you could not have foreseen this!"
"But I should have," Eleanor said tonelessly.
It was clearly useless to argue the point with Eleanor; or at least doing so now, Frank thought. He hoped there'd be a day when she could see Skelling's assault as what it had been. Frank had had men flogged for less, and right now he was feeling like administering the much-needed flogging in person. Considering what Skelling had done to Eleanor it was not surprising that she loathed the man worse, that she was mortally afraid of him.
"He came to see me the next day," Eleanor said. "I did not want to see him at first, but my mother insisted on my doing so. I had not told her about the incident in Lady Weston's garden, of course. Nor have I told anyone ever since then. I went into the parlour where he was waiting for me, expecting him to have come to apologise; and to say the truth I felt I ought to give him that chance. But that was not what he'd come for."
"He asked you to marry him."
"Yes. He told me that he was madly in love with me, that my beauty was driving him crazy with longing " She broke off.
"Thereby placing the blame for what had occurred the previous night on your shoulders," Frank said. "For a man driven crazy with his longing for a woman cannot be made responsible for his actions. That man is a devil! He must have known that you were blaming yourself for what happened and made use of that fact. I do not think he cared for you at all."
"No; he probably did not." She sighed. "I told him that after what had happened the night before I could not marry him. How could I even contemplate marriage with a man who'd treated me so brutally? A man who did not appear to have the least respect for my person, or my feelings? I I might even have said no if things that night had gone further than they did. I'd have drowned myself rather than marrying Skelling!"
This was said almost fiercely, which indicated that she was quite in earnest. Suddenly Frank felt cold.
"Luckily there was no call for such desperate measures," he said.
"I don't know. There might still be," she said sadly.
"No!"
"He had one of his temper tantrums when I refused him. He told me I'd never marry anyone but him, calling me all those names he'd called me the night before. But I was in my own home now, and everyone knew where I was and with whom I was, so I was not afraid. I just left him in the parlour to deal with his temper and went to my room. Later I told my father that I had no intention of marrying Skelling, and there was an end to it. My mother did not like my decision; she'd have loved to see me married to a peer, but she had not despaired yet. I had other admirers; and there was no reason why I should not marry one of them. After his proposal Skelling more or less ignored me, and I was glad. I turned my attention to my other admirers; I was still hoping to live up to my parents' expectations regarding my future and marry well. This may sound cold and calculating to you, Frank, but you must not forget that at that time I did not know that there might still be a chance for us to be happy. I knew that I'd never love another, so it did not quite matter whom I married, did it?"
"I suppose it did not," Frank agreed.
"It happened when it became quite clear that Lord Edenthorpe was paying me marked attention, and there were rumours that he was planning to make me an offer," Eleanor continued her tale. "One morning I got a bouquet with a card attached to it. Remembering Lady Weston's ball. Does Edenthorpe know? S. I threw them away, and tried to put the card out of my mind. That night we went to a ball; I forget where it was, but Skelling asked me to dance with him, and since I did not want to make a scene in public I did not refuse his request. He made it quite clear to me then that no respectable man would ever marry me if he found out what had happened between us at Lady Weston's ball, and that he, for one, would not hesitate to inform anyone who became betrothed to me of what he chose to call my past indiscretions. By then I was well enough acquainted with his temper to realise that he was in earnest. So when Lord Edenthorpe proposed to me, I refused him. I could not stand the humiliation of being jilted, and I knew Lord Edenthorpe would not be able to stomach the thought of being married to someone like me."
"Someone like you?"
"The correct term is damaged goods, I think."
"Nonsense, Eleanor. If you'd become engaged to Edenthorpe he'd have stood by you. I've no reason to think he'd have jilted you. Unlike Skelling, Edenthorpe's an honourable man."
"What then? He'd have married me, but do you think it would have been a happy marriage, with him wondering what had happened between Skelling and me?"
"He would not have wondered for long, Eleanor."
"There were two more gentlemen who asked for my hand in marriage, and I refused them too. I did not love them, so I did not find it too difficult to do so, although my mother was beginning to worry about me and did her best to persuade me to marry one of them. Then you came back, and everything changed." There were tears in her eyes again.
"It is one thing to refuse an offer of marriage from a man one does not love it is quite easy, in fact, and never caused me much regret. I knew I could not have been a good wife to any of them, so by refusing to marry them I gave them a chance to find someone who really suited them. But it was different with you it was so hard! I wanted to marry you more than anything else, but I had to send you away as I'd sent away the others. I was afraid of what you'd do if you found out about Skelling."
"So you did not refuse me because you could no longer trust me?"
"No! I still loved you, and trusted you, but I was afraid you'd turn away from me once you found out, and I knew that would break my heart. Any excuse would have done to prevent that! To have you become disgusted with me to have you look at me well, the way you're looking at me now!"
"Do I look disgusted?"
She looked up at him. "I am afraid so," she whispered.
"If I do it has nothing to do with you, Eleanor. It's Skelling I find appalling." He dropped a light kiss on the top of her head, the first kiss he'd ever given her, he thought ruefully. Maybe if he'd disregarded propriety during their stay in Colby Green she would not now think back on her first kiss with horror.
"I am glad you trust me enough to tell me your story, my love. Let Skelling try to come up and drip his poison into my ears he'll soon find what good it'll do him!"
"Do you mean to say that you still want to marry me? After all I have told you?" Eleanor asked, staring at him in disbelief.
"This may come as a surprise to you, Eleanor, but yes, I do. Marry me and I'll take care of Skelling. What am I saying I'll take care of Skelling whatever you choose to do. I'll not have you as a reward for slaying the dragon that threatened you."
"But what about the scandal?"
"There won't be one. Skelling might try to talk me out of marrying you, but he certainly would not like to have his own part in the business exposed to the public."
"He probably does not mind. Men are never judged as harshly as women in these matters."
"Yet the public would listen to what your husband had to say to the matter, and sooner or later they'd find someone other to talk about."
Eleanor shook her head. "I cannot," she said. "Don't you understand, Frank? I thought you would!"
"I am trying to, Eleanor, but it's hard," he said. "Go back to bed now, before you catch a cold. As for your leaving Hanley Park, don't think of it. I'll talk to my cousin; she won't bother you again, I promise. Enjoy your stay here and do not worry about what will happen when you get back to Town."
She rose from her chair. "Thank you," she said. "I I am feeling much better now that I've told you."
"I am glad to hear it," Frank said. "You should have told me sooner."
"I know I should but I did not have the courage," she said. "I am not very courageous, I am afraid."
"That's where you're wrong," Frank replied. "You have much more courage than you know, and I love you all the more for it. Good night!"
He waited until he could be certain that Eleanor was back in her room, then he sat back down in his chair again and began to make plans regarding Skelling.
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