CHAPTER TEN

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                                CHAPTER TEN

The Misses Pike were sisters of similar age to the Birkett girls and were to be brought out at the same time. Mr Jeffrey Warburton proved a great success at Thrupton Manor, but Eleanor felt out of the excitement.

    For once she found little patience in the general talk of Mantua-makers, and the balls and assemblies that the girls were looking forward to attending. Despite herself, her mind kept straying to Willington House and Major Ambrose Warburton.

    She was prepared to accept that soldiering roughened a man somewhat and that away from home and polite society, a man must take his comfort where he could.

    But Major Warburton had been home over a twelve-month. She would have expected him to conform to the moral standards of a landlord and gentleman, as she envisaged them.

    Her father, she was sad to concede, had been a sorry example of how a gentleman should not behave. In spite of everything, she loved her father still, yet she deplored his fallen values.

    She could never attach herself to a man who was in any way flawed in moral principles. Not that Major Warburton would ever look on her in that way, she reminded herself sternly. Was he not already entwined in the delights of the mysterious Mrs V?

    The Misses Pike insisted in accompanying Cecilie and Dorothea on the return journey to Willington House. Consequently there was no room in the Birkett coach for Eleanor.

    Rather than wait for the return of the coach, Eleanor decided to walk home, taking a path through woodlands which would shorten the journey by two miles. It had been a week since snow had fallen, and most of it had cleared away. Nevertheless, the going on the frozen ground was harder than she had anticipated.

    She was about a mile from the house and on the edge of the wood when she was startled by the appearance of a man loitering near a farm gate a little way along the lane.

    By his sudden appearance and position, she had the feeling that he had emerged from the woods behind her, as though he had been following her.

    She quickened her steps but could not help glancing back. He was of medium height and thinly built. That he was not a labouring man she could tell by his clothes, but neither was he a gentleman.

    Uneasiness made her hurry on. At the turn of the lane she ventured another backward glance. At least he was not advancing on her but was standing quite still and continued to observe her.

    Disturbed more than she understood why, she continued to hurry and was quite out of breath by the time she reached the carriageway to the house. Should she mention the appearance of the strange man to Lord Birkett, she wondered? Yet he had not approached her, or behaved in any way threatening, and she would not be able to explain her disquiet.       

    She was thankful to at last gain the sanctuary of her bedroom at Willington House by which time it was late afternoon.

    On entering she found that Lady Susan’s chamber-maid had laid out a royal blue riding habit on her bed. The spurt of excitement she felt on handling the fine woollen material put her strange encounter out of her head.

    Lady Susan had kept her word as to the loan of the riding habit, but would she ever have occasion to wear it?

    His sister had taken the Major at his word, but would he really remember that he had invited her to ride?

Eleanor did not see Major Warburton until dinner, when he hardly addressed two words to her. The dinner conversation seemed lively enough at the other end of the table, but Eleanor felt neglected and dispirited, and she was beginning to ache from the strenuous exercise of her long walk.

    The gentlemen were left to their port eventually, while the ladies retired to the drawing-room. Mr Jeffrey Warburton and the Archbishop soon joined them, but of the Major and his lordship here was no sign.

    When a little later Lady Susan insisted that her girls retire to bed to spare their pretty looks, Eleanor was obliged to retire also. So much for the Major’s word, she told herself. She had been foolish in the extreme to pin her hopes on it.

    She crossed the great hall and was already climbing the staircase, when the door of the library opened and Major Warburton’s manly frame appeared. Eleanor’s foot faltered on the next step as he called out her name.

    ‘Miss Wellesley, I beg moment,’ he said.

    He strode to the foot of the staircase and looked up at her, a teasing smile playing on his mouth. She gazed down into his brilliant green eyes that seemed to shine with added intensity in the lamp-light of the great chandelier that hung from the hall’s high ceiling.

    Even though she had met too few personable men to judge, she believed Major Warburton must stand out from all men by the very power if his magnetism, and for all her uncertainly of the rightness of his character, she could not help being greatly attracted to him in a way that was novel and utterly disturbing to her. Suddenly, greatly moved by the profound masculinity of his form and being, she found she needed to clutch at the stair-rail to steady herself.

    ‘You have not forgotten your promise, I trust?’ the Major asked.

    ‘My promise, sir?’ Eleanor was conscious of the breathlessness of her voice and was ashamed.

    ‘Your promise to be my riding companion tomorrow morning and each morning thereafter,’ he went on firmly. ‘There can be no excuse for you now, for a riding habit was laid out in your room under my own personal supervision.’

    Eleanor was not certain whether she was pleased at the idea of the Major striding about her bedroom, perhaps overlooking her few possessions. Had he taken the opportunity of gaining access to her room out of curiosity? The thought made her perturbed. While she was making up her mind how she would answer, the Major spoke again.

    ‘You appear pale, Miss Wellesley, and you cling to the banister as though your life depended on it,’ he observed. ‘Are you ill?’

    He took a step up the staircase towards her.

    Affrighted, Eleanor straightened up immediately; preparing to flee up the stairs should he venture too close.

    Her dreadful experience with Frederick Granville still haunted her mind, and she could not help feeling wary of men of any power.

    ‘It is tiredness only, sir,’ she said shortly, and then regretting her churlishness, added. ‘But thank you for your concern.’

    ‘How come you so tired? Does my sister work you too hard? Are my young nieces too much of a strain?’    

    Eleanor could not prevent a smile at the idea. ‘Lady Birkett has shown me great kindness and your nieces are a delight, I assure you, sir. I am merely fatigued from the walk from Thrupton Manor this afternoon.’

    She felt she could hardly tell him that she had run home at the sight of a man lounging on a gate. Now it seemed so absurd.

    ‘A good night’s rest will put matters right.’

    ‘You walked four miles in this cold weather?’ He sounded astounded at her foolishness. ‘What was the reason for this madness?’

    ‘It was two miles, Major.’ Eleanor explained the circumstances.

    ‘I see that you are worn out. Let me escort you to your room.’

    Before she could move he sprang up the stairs to her side, taking her arm. Fearing that he intended placing an arm around her, she shied away. If he noted her reluctance he did not show it. He pulled her arm through his and began to climb the remaining stairs.

    Walking so close beside him through the dimly lit passages gave Eleanor a feeling of walking in a dream. She was unsure of the propriety of his insistence on seeing her to her room. She considered telling him that he need not trouble himself, but his hold on her arm was so firm and controlled that she hesitated to speak.

    They reached her door, yet he did not release her arm, but stood over her, the flickering light from the lamp on a stand nearby playing over the planes of his face. She felt her heart stir in her breast as she gazed up into his brilliant eyes.

    ‘I fear you have been ill-used,’ he said softly.

    ‘What do you mean, sir?’ Eleanor asked in a frightened whisper, shrinking back.

    Was he alluding to the shameful way Frederick Granville had treated her? Had he found out in some way?

    It was her greatest fear that Granville had talked of her in a scandalous way amongst his cronies. It could be that the whole of London knew of her humiliation at this time, and that the Major had come to hear of it.

    He might even believe she was a woman of low character, and therefore fair game. He had said he wanted to know more of her history. If it was not curiosity to learn of her true character, what else could it be?

Snipe opened the door of Frederick Granville’s study, his expression supercilious.

    ‘There is a person, a man, asking to speak with you, sir,’ he announced. He gave a little cough. ‘He came to the front door, but I have asked him to wait below stairs.’

    ‘What does this fellow want?’

    ‘He would not say, sir. He claims his name is Quipp.’

    ‘Quipp?’ Granville rose from his desk quickly. ‘Send him to me immediately,’ he said sharply. ‘And in future Quipp is to be brought to me straight away. Do you understand?’

    ‘Yes, sir. Very good, sir.’

    Granville paced the study anxiously as he waited for the man’s appearance. Snipe eventually announced him and left them together, closing the door.

    ‘Well?’ Granville asked. ‘Well, what have you to tell me?’

    Quipp sauntered toward the chiffonier, where a tray of glasses and decanter stood.

    He was a man of medium height and thin of build. His narrow face revealed a foxy intelligence, and his glance was sharp and curious.

    ‘I can remember better after a drink, Mr Granville, sir.’

    Granville waved a hand of consent impatiently.

    ‘Remember, Quipp, I do not pay for incompetence,’ he said. ‘Do you know where she is?’

    Quipp sniffed before throwing the contents of a glass into the back of his throat.

    ‘Uum! That was good,’ he said, smacking his lips. ‘Thanks, I’ll have another.’

    ‘Well?’

    ‘I’ve found her, sir, yes.’

    ‘Where is she?’

    ‘I’ve been sniffing about everywhere,’ Quipp said, reaching for the decanter again. ‘First she landed up at Hampshire in the employ of Lord Dunstan.’

    Quipp demolished his glass of whisky again, before continuing.

    ‘But there was a bit of unpleasantness there, and she got thrown out. Next she turns up in Gloucestershire. She is chaperone to the daughters of Lord Birkett.’

    ‘You are sure of this?’

    ‘Oh, yes. I’ve been keeping a close eye on her, sir. Trailed her through the woods close to Willington House. She saw me, too.’

    ‘What? You fool!’

    ‘Calm yourself, sir,’ Quipp said soothingly. ‘All she saw was a man leaning on a gate. She’s a nice little piece of baggage and no mistake!’

    ‘Shut your mouth!’ Granville snarled.

    Quipp grinned and Granville turned his gaze from the knowing eyes of his enquiry agent.

    ‘I want you to keep watching her,’ he said gruffly. ‘I want to know her regular movements, particularly if she is accustomed to venture out alone.’

    ‘Is this leading to a snatch, governor?’ Quipp asked. ‘Because if so, I want to be miles away when it happens.’

    ‘My reasons are none of your business, Quipp,’ Granville snapped. ‘I pay you to watch and nothing more.’ He gave the man a long look. ‘It wouldn’t be too healthy to be curious.’

    Quipp’s sniff managed to sound contemptuous. ‘Quipp can look after himself, sir. Wouldn’t be around this long if he couldn’t.’

    ‘You can go now,’ Granville said. ‘You have your instructions.’

    After another wistful glance at the decanter, Quipp strolled to the door. He opened it but stood there a moment.

    ‘Quipp doesn’t take too kindly to threats, sir,’ he said. ‘Quipp has many useful friends, high and low.’

    He went out closing the door quietly.

Quipp paused in the passage and looked around.

    ‘You can come out now,’ he said quietly.

    Snipe appeared sheepishly from a nearby doorway.

    ‘I’ll show you out by the back door,’ he said disdainfully.

    Quipp smiled. ‘Had a good earful did you? I knew you were there listening all the time. Ears like a cat, me.’

    ‘I beg your pardon!’

    Quipp jerked his head towards the study door. ‘I bet you knows a thing or two about your gentleman,’ he said. ‘What servant doesn’t? Knowledge has value, you know. Easy way to earn a shilling or two.’

    Snipe lifted his chin high. ‘This way, if you please.’

   

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