A Sister's Secret (41 page)

‘Yes,’ said Caroline. ‘I have decided that, as we’re so close, you and Mr Carter may come and look at my house. And it is no use your arguing.’

‘I’m entirely happy about it,’ said the captain, ‘and will agree to a return to London tomorrow.’

‘Oh, you are a dear man, and should be kissed,’ said Annabelle.

‘Not by me,’ said Jonathan. ‘He ain’t at all kissable in my eyes.’

‘No one, sir, is interested in your opinions,’ said Annabelle. ‘I vow you are at your most bearable when you are dumb.’

‘Ain’t she a pretty wag?’ said Jonathan to the coffee pot.

The clouds were breaking apart, and shafts of sunshine warmed the stone bulwarks of the manor house. Caroline and Annabelle stood on the paved terrace with Captain Burnside and Jonathan. Steps led down from the terrace to the lawns and gardens. Beyond stretched the broad vista of the parkland, prolific in places with mighty oaks, copper beeches and stately poplars. In the distance rose the undulating slopes of the Downs.

‘I do declare, God has given us a beautiful world,’ said Annabelle, always affected by the unspoiled enchantment of Great Wivenden’s vistas and landscapes. ‘Could anything be lovelier?’

‘Well,’ said Jonathan, never lacking in cheerful boldness, ‘I fancy God ain’t above being proud of Lady Caroline, and nor ain’t you less than pretty, my infant.’

‘
Infant?
’ Annabelle seethed. Jonathan smiled. She did look pretty, ravishingly so in her gown and bonnet. But her blue eyes gave him angry contempt. ‘Sir, be so good as not to address me,’ she said.

‘Oh, silence don’t signify,’ he said; ‘it don’t alter the facts.’

Caroline smiled. She glanced at Captain Burnside. He was taking in the soft magnificence of the greens, all changing their tints so swiftly as racing clouds continually edged the sun. He had been unusually quiet, as if
Great Wivenden was having a sobering effect on him. Was she making a mistake? Did he feel she was in conceit of herself by showing him that all this belonged to her? But would that not appeal to his acquisitive nature, her wealth of ownership? Was it not something he would marry her for, in his calculating way? Dear heaven, she did not want that.

He had not been quite his usual debonair self since last night. Last night. The sun caught her and cast warmth over her, but her thoughts brought little shivers.

‘You would like to see the house, Jonathan, wouldn’t you?’ she said. ‘And you too, Captain Burnside?’

Goodness, thought Annabelle, how odd she is, calling the odious Mr Carter by his first name and still calling our entertaining Charles nothing but Captain Burnside. How strange was this old friendship of theirs.

The interior of the house was altogether imposing, yet had the distinct appeal of being warm and welcoming. A multitude of windows allowed the light to dance in every room, brightening the colours of tapestries, carpets and pictures. As for the pictures, there were so many that the beautiful main hall, the dining room, the private reception room and the two drawing rooms had the entrancing look of furnished galleries.

On the ground floor, the steward, John Forbes, had his office. Caroline introduced him to her visitors. Jonathan shook his hand breezily. Captain Burnside did so with a reminiscent smile. ‘I am, as you see, a friend,’ he said.

‘I was in no doubt by the time you left me,’ said Mr Forbes.

Coming out of the office a few minutes later, Jonathan said, ‘Shall we look at the kitchen?’

‘Kitchens,’ said Annabelle. ‘Cooking kitchen, dairy
kitchen, meat kitchen, fish kitchen, and so on. I declare you’ll be at home there. The servants will show you where the potatoes are stored, and the turnips. I shan’t come, unless Charles wishes to meet Caroline’s cook and kitchen boy.’

‘Well, I’ll take you, all the same,’ said Jonathan, ‘if Lady Caroline don’t mind.’

‘I find it distinctly intriguing to have a gentleman interest himself in kitchens,’ said Caroline.

‘Charles has expressed no interest,’ said Annabelle, ‘and he’s the only gentleman present.’

‘Oh, I’m sure Mr Carter won’t disgrace himself, so do go with him,’ said Caroline, ‘while I show Captain Burnside the library.’

‘There, come along, Miss Howard,’ said Jonathan. It was in his mind to give Lady Caroline and the captain a little time together. ‘Lead the way, my infant.’

‘Oh, I shall box your ears again in a moment,’ said Annabelle. ‘And I am not interested in the kitchens.’

‘Well, you should be,’ said Jonathan. ‘Prettiness alone ain’t going to be enough when you’re some gentleman’s wife. You’ll have to know how to run the household. Come along now.’

‘Oh, you wretched thing,’ said Annabelle, but Jonathan took her by the hand and she perforce went with him.

Caroline took Captain Burnside to the splendid library. He looked around in silence.

‘I am sorry if Great Wivenden does not impress you,’ she said.

‘I can’t recall saying so,’ murmured the captain.

‘Your silence, sir, is quite sufficient.’

‘My silence, marm, is a homage. What can be said about beauty and splendour that can’t be better expressed by reverential silence?’

‘Fiddlesticks,’ said Caroline.

‘Assure you, marm—’

‘If, sir, you still persist in calling me marm, I shall have Mr Forbes and two gardeners lock you in the estate stocks and throw bad eggs at you. I shall throw some myself. I am Caroline, and you shall call me so. What must my sister think that you don’t?’

‘Faith, I ain’t supposing Annabelle gives it any thought.’

‘Oh, yes, Annabelle …’ Caroline took her bonnet off and let the light fire her hair. ‘See what you have done for her. She rarely mentions Cumberland now. I declare myself entirely satisfied with your accomplishment, and the moment we return to London you shall be paid all you have earned.’

Captain Burnside grimaced. ‘It ain’t a pressing matter,’ he said.

‘It must be very pressing to a penniless man,’ said Caroline firmly, watching him as he inspected the spines of several weighty-looking tomes. She moved closer to him. ‘Are you distressingly penniless?’

‘Marm—’

‘Do you wish me to strike you, sir?’

‘Caroline—’

‘There, that did not hurt, did it? You should not be so proud.’

‘It ain’t pride,’ said the captain, keeping his eyes off her, ‘it’s principles.’

‘I won’t allow them,’ said Caroline.

‘Them?’

‘Principles. Not your kind. They are a ridiculous nonsense.’

‘No, they ain’t, they’re necessary,’ said the captain, examining titles, his top hat in his hand. He found it better not to look at her.

‘I should hope, sir, that our friendship is not to suffer the continual pinpricks of your tendency always to argue with me.’

‘God forgive me if I ever do. It ain’t the thing at all, arguing with a patron. It’s a principle of mine not to, nor to be familiar.’

‘Why, you deplorable villain,’ said Caroline, ‘you have subjected me to a hundred familiarities.’

Captain Burnside coughed. ‘Only, you might say, in the exercise of my accepted role,’ he said. ‘Heaven forbid, Your Ladyship, that I should ever, in normal and conventional circumstances, offend you with even the smallest familiarities.’

Delight danced in her eyes. Oh, was there any more adorable man? All his sins were insignificant compared with Clarence’s heinous aberrations. They were all forgivable. Oh, that he might turn over a new leaf and give up all scheming and philandering.

‘I forgive you your absurd principles,’ she said. ‘I am a sweet-natured woman, as you have no doubt noticed. In my sweetness, and in my gratitude for what you have done, I am utterly determined to help you, despite yourself.’

‘Oh, ye angels,’ sighed the captain.

‘What was that, sir?’

‘Ah, a passing comment of no significance.’

‘Caroline.’

‘A passing comment of no significance, Caroline,’ he said, and her eyes swam with laughter and love.

‘There, we have come to sincere friendship, though I fear it may still be some time before I can cure you of your provoking moments. Tell me truthfully, do you like Great Wivenden?’

‘One can’t merely
like
such an estate, one can only
stand in silence and worship,’ observed the captain, who had still not taken his eyes off the library shelves.

‘Worship?’ enquired Caroline.

‘I’ve a romantic nature, Your Ladyship …’

‘Romantic? Can it be true of a deceiver of innocents?’

‘Oh, I am touched and affected by beauty, Caroline.’

‘Well, I declare,’ said Caroline, vastly amused.

‘Merely to like is to be a Philistine. What man owning any kind of discrimination could merely like the magnificent Alps, the English Lakes, a purple sunset or a beautiful woman?’

‘I have never heard of any man worshipping a purple sunset,’ said Caroline. ‘A beautiful woman, yes, he might worship her. How many have you worshipped recently?’

‘Recently,’ he said, ‘I’ve had pressing business to attend to.’

‘Yes, mostly my business. And thank you, Captain Burnside, for attending to it so efficiently. But that, of course, is the last of any such business. I am glad you agree on that.’

‘I don’t recall—’

‘Please don’t interrupt, or I shall lose my way. Now, you have formally met my steward, Mr John Forbes. He is one of England’s sturdiest and finest yeomen, and I am sure you cannot help but like him. That will make things very pleasant for you, liking him, and I am convinced your many talents will stand you in good stead as his assistant.’

‘Oh, the Lord Harry,’ sighed Captain Burnside, ‘and have you also determined which of your rosy-cheeked dairymaids I’m to marry?’

‘Marry? A dairymaid? Don’t be absurd. Really, whatever put such a foolish idea into your mind?’ Caroline, wholly aware of his refusal to look at her, or even glance at her, felt the moment could not be more delicious. ‘When we
return to London, please favour me by winding up any little dubious business affairs you may have on hand. I shall be happy to reimburse you for any losses this might incur. You will need funds in order to equip yourself with suitable country clothes. Silk cravats and pearl-buttoned waistcoats won’t do at all. I shall be here most of the time to give you advice and encouragement.’

‘Oh, ye gods,’ said Captain Burnside.

‘Was that another comment of no significance, sir?’

‘It was a cry for help.’

‘But as I have just said, I shall give you help in the way of advice and encouragement. Because I know you have many good points, I shall spare no effort in assisting you to become an honest and industrious citizen of our lovely England. I have decided to take up residence here, at Great Wivenden, and visit my house in London only occasionally. So if becoming honest and industrious presents difficult moments for you at times, I shall be here for you to turn to, and I shall never be less than sympathetic.’

Oh, his expression. It was one of utter helplessness. Caroline hugged her exultation.

‘Your Most Gracious Ladyship—’

‘Please don’t thank me,’ she said. ‘I could not do less for you when you have done so much for me. Why, with your abilities, I can envisage you stepping into my steward’s shoes when he retires in a few years. I vow my faith in you is all it could be.’

‘Beg to point out—’

‘Also, I have decided I must marry again.’ In her exultation, Caroline was sweetly relentless. ‘Great Wivenden is a place for a husband, wife and children.’

‘I fancy so,’ said Captain Burnside, and frowned at a biography of Julius Caesar.

‘I am still only twenty-three,’ she said, taking off a year or two.

‘Ye gods, you married as a tender young girl?’

‘I married in mistake, sir.’

‘Then I earnestly hope your new choice won’t be another mistake,’ said the frowning captain. ‘Mr Wingrove springs to my mind as a faultless prospect, though it ain’t for me to name names. But if you care for my advice …?’

‘I don’t care for that advice at all,’ said Caroline. ‘Mr Wingrove? Really. Do you wish me to live in faultless boredom?’

‘Since I own a fair line in boring patter myself, I ain’t in any position to cast doubt on Mr Wingrove’s ability to be entertaining.’

‘Heavens, are my ears deceiving me?’ said Caroline. She could have stayed in conversation with her delicious love all day, all week, all month, all year. For ever. ‘I declare that what you own, sir, is a singular line in taradiddle.’

‘I ain’t denying you’ve a healthy American awareness of English taradiddle,’ he said.

‘Nor should you,’ said Caroline. ‘I own I am sharp to spot it, and have had cause to accuse you countless times. I am acutely perceptive of nonsense, piffle and taradiddle, especially yours.’

Looking pained, Captain Burnside said, ‘I’m unacquainted with piffle, madam.’

‘Madam yourself, sir. And you’re not unacquainted at all. Your piffle is of the highest quality. But no one could say it was boring. And I shall not marry Mr Wingrove. There is Cumberland, of course …’

‘What?’ Captain Burnside looked her in the face at last, his expression glowering. Caroline tingled. ‘Mr Wingrove, yes. Cumberland, no.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Cumberland, never. I ain’t going to allow that.’

‘Friends should not get above themselves, Captain Burnside. I am not to be told what man I may have and what man I may not.’

‘You ain’t going to marry Cumberland, except over my dead body, and you can take that as final and unalterable from your most respectful friend.’

‘Heavens, such arrogance,’ said Caroline, and her most respectful friend looked positively grim. She smiled sweetly. ‘You must know I shall marry by my own dictates, sir, not yours.’

‘Damn all my patience if I don’t end up putting you over my knees.’

Her eyes locked with his. Heavens, he meant it.

‘Attempt it, sir, and I will scratch your eyes out,’ said Caroline, tingling with rapture at the sparks that were flying.

He sighed. ‘Then I beg you’ll dismiss Cumberland from your list,’ he said.

‘Ridiculous man, do you think I would ever seriously consider Cumberland? I have told you I never would. I shall choose an adorable husband, one who can make me laugh, tease me into tantrums and love me for myself.’