The Unaccomplished Lady Eleanor (28 page)

Eleanor was about to protest at this disparaging remar
k when James forestalled her. 
‘
On the contrary, Lovell
. 
I think I can safely say, from what we have just witnessed, that Lady Eleanor is a match for any man in the saddle.  What would you say to a race back to Whitlock, Lady Eleanor?
’

Eleanor
turned her eyes to
Lovell.
He was looking as though he could quite happily murder her.  Moving her gaze to James, she
found him regarding her expectant
ly,
his brows
raised and
his
eyes glinting
.  He was
daring her to accept.  Well, thought Eleanor stoutly, she had never refused a challenge in all her nineteen years and six months and she was certainly not about to start now.

‘
Very well,
’
she replied blithely.
 
‘
I accept your challenge
.
’

‘
I
had
no doubt that you would
,’ smiled James knowingly.

The three of them lined up their steeds on the edge of the meadow and
,
on James’s count of three, kicked the
m
to a gallop. 
It was James who immediately to
ok the lead
,
with Eleanor
behind him as they cleared the first meadow and soared over the stone
wall
to
the next.  Eleanor was aware of
Derek
Lovell shouting something from behind her
.  S
he tossed a look over her shoulder to see him draw his horse to a halt in front of the wall
.  E
vidently the beast had refused to jump which meant Lovell was out of the race, leaving just her and James.
James was still slightly ahead.
  A vision of his smug
face and the comments she would have to endure should h
e win, stoked Eleanor’s determination.  She pressed her heels
harder into the mare’s flanks
and bent low over its head, the wind strea
ming through her hair.  Half
way
up
the next meadow, a mass of bobbing buttercups,
she caught up with James and
nudged in
to
the lead.  So intent was she on
the race
that this time she failed to
notic
e the glint of the arrowhead.  Her horse
,
however,
did not.  As the weapon soared
across the beast’s eye-line, it reared
,
tossing Eleanor to the ground with a deathly thud.

Drifting in and out of consciousness, Eleanor was only va
guely aware of the fuss
caused by James and Lovell returning to the
c
astle carrying her limp, lifeless body.  She heard the
d
owager
demanding an explanation;
M
adeleine declaring that
‘
some people will do anything to gain attention
’
; and James replying,
‘
Well
,
you should know all about that,
Madeleine
’
.  She was aware of strong arms carrying her upstairs and l
a
ying her gently in her bed
,
and of cold hands lifting her
eyelids and taking her pulse. 
During all this activity, a strange medley of images flitted
about
her mind: of Felicity Carmichael laughing as she dissected an enormous butterfly; of a
plague of rats taking over the c
astle; of Derek Lovell sitting before a huge pile of bills at a gaming table
;
and of the
d
owager
chiding her for her unbecoming behaviour. 

Sh
e even dreamt of J
ames:  a
dream so vivid
that
she
could smell
the
fai
nt aroma of his cologne and fe
e
l the gentle touch of his lips
on hers. 

It was late into the evening when she awoke.  Milly was in the armchair at her bedside, con
cern etched all over her
freckled face. 

‘
Gracious
, miss,
you ain’t half given us all a scare.  Thought yo
u were dead so we did when the m
aster first brought you in.  We’ve had the doctor here and everything.
’

Eleanor smiled weakly.
‘
It’ll take more than a fall from a horse to get rid of me, Milly.
’

‘
And we’re thanking God for it,
’
smiled Milly, taking hold of Eleanor’s hand and
squeezing it affectionately. 
‘
I’ve never known such a to-do,
’
she carried on, leaving her hold of Eleanor’s hand to plump up the pile of pillows behind her mistress’s head.
‘
Never seen the m
aster looking so worried.   Been in and out of here all day so he has.
’

‘
What
?
’
said Eleanor wrinkling her brow.

‘
Th
e master
, miss
. 
Been in and out more times than a poss
-
stick in a wash tub.  Even stayed
and kept
an eye on you while I nipped downstairs
for
a bite to eat.
’

Eleanor’s heart skipped
beat. 
‘
Did he indeed?
’
she
muttere
d, raising her hand to her lips. 

Much to everyone’s relief,
Eleanor had awoken with
a large appetite
. 
Milly had wasted no time
bringing up
a tray from the kitchen
containing
a bowl of
beef stew,
a hunk of
fresh bread, a slice of apple pie and a jug of
thick
cream.  Having devoured the stew and the bre
a
d, Eleanor
tuck
ed
into the apple pie
as she entertained
Milly with those of her dreams she dared repeat. 

‘
And I even dreamt,
’
she
giggled
,
‘
that
my g
odmother had invited the ghastly
v
iscount and his family over for tea on Thursday.
’
 

The smile slid from
Milly
’s face. 
‘
Oh that weren’t no dream, miss
. 
The three of them Grayson
s
are coming for tea on Thursday and, if I’m not mistaken, it’s more than the pleasure of their company they’ll be offering.
’

Eleanor put down her spoon
as her
appetite
sudden
ly disappeared.

As the rest of the house
retired
, Eleanor, having slept
most
of the day
, was wide awake
.  Milly had maintained that it was only proper that she stayed in the room with Eleanor that night and
that she would sleep in the
armchair.  Eleanor
,
however, had
maintained that there was
no need for such a fuss and had insisted Milly return to her
own room under
threat of Eleanor refusing to divulge a single detail of any of the events she attended, if Milly did not obey.  Instead, she had asked that the girl bring her
th
e poem by Byron
,
which
Eleanor
had hidden in the library.  By the light of a single candle she engrossed
herself
in the text.
A
little after two o’
clock
, still wide awake, Eleanor
heard a sound
- a
terrifying
sound that made her
stomach
l
urch and her heart jam in her throat
.  It was
the ghostly moaning of the Wailing Whitlock Widow.

Terror surging through her veins,
E
leanor
lay stock-still waiting for the sound to pass
.  T
o her
horror
it linger
ed
outside her bedchamber door.  And then something happened which caused her body to fre
eze
.  She watched, her eyes almost popping out of her head, as the brass knob slowly turned and the door creaked open. 
Eleanor’s
heart
was
pounding so wildly that she thought it
might
burst out of her ribcage.  She opened her mouth to scream but no sound was forthco
ming.  She
stared unblinking as a stream of dirty white chiffon floated partway into the room followed by more gruesome moaning.  In a flash it disappeared and the door clicked shut, leaving Eleanor trembling from head to foot.

FOURTEEN

Despite the horrors of the night, and her subsequent lack of sleep, Eleanor had not forgotten
that today was the day of the picnic she had promised Milly and her family
.  Due to her accident the previous day, though,
she had done absolutely nothing
regarding the food
.
  A
nxious to
rectify this situation
, she jumped out of be
d and padded over to the window
. 
Gazing out at the breath-taking
view already bathed in brilliant
sunshine,
she pushed aside all memories of the terrifying scene she had witnessed several sleepless hours ago and discovered that
, apart from a
bump on her head, she actually felt quite the thing. 

She
pulled on a plain, unfashionable brown day gown
she had brought from home
- t
he same gown that
had inspired the
d
owager
to enquire if Eleanor had inclinations towards becoming a monk.  For the task she was intending this morning, th
e gown would suit perfectly
.

It was the first time Eleanor had vi
sited the
castle’s cavernous
kitchens
. 
Located
in the bowels of the building
they were
already abuzz with activity
despite the early hour
.  Hovering in the
arched doorway, she observed a host of bustling
scullery
maids
and kitchen maids
going about their tasks under the watchful eye of the formidable cook, Mrs Green, who was standing at a
t
able vigorously pummelling a mound of dough. 

Eleanor
started as Mrs Green suddenly raised her head and spotted her.

‘Well I never,’ she declared, ceasing her kneading.  ‘What on earth are you doing down here and at this hour, Lady Eleanor?’

Eleanor felt extremely self-conscious as all
other activity stopped
and a dozen or so pairs of eyes regarded her incredulously.

‘Please do forgive the intrusion, Mrs Green,’ she began, tentativ
ely approaching the older woman, ‘b
ut I have promised Milly and her family a picnic t
oday and I had a bit of an
accident yesterday and
…
well, I didn’t arrange for any food
.  So
I was wondering if you would mind if I baked a few things.’

Mrs Green’s eyes grew wide.  ‘Baked a few things?’

‘Only a few pies.’

A look of disbelief spread over Mrs Green’s ruddy countenance. 
‘
Lord
, miss,
’
she
declared,
shaking her head,
‘
there’s us all thinking you’re on your death bed and here
you are at this ungodly hour
,
down in my kitchen wanting to bake
a few
pies
.
’

‘
I promise not to b
e any trouble. 
And I have done it before.  Mrs Ben
tley – that’s Zach the farmer’s wife. In Nottingham. Where I live.  Well, I’ve often helped her with the baking
but
I’ve never actually done any
by myself and I’m sure my efforts will come nowhere near your own.
I mean, that mutton pie we had several days ago was the best I had tasted in my entire life.
’

Mrs Green flushed
with pride. 
‘
Well, I must admit
,
’
she flustered,
tucking a stray lock of hair into her cap
,
‘
Mr Green do say I make the best
mutton
pie
in the county.
’

‘
A
nd I agree with him,
’
sai
d Eleanor, truthfully.

‘
Well
then
,
’
said
Mrs Green
, bustling over to a hook on the wall on which hung a gleaming white apron,
‘
we’d best get a move on if you’re to bake enough to fill that Maguire clan.  And seeing as how we were all so worried about you yesterday, I might just share with you a couple of secrets about my pastry …’

Two hours later
,
Eleanor
wiped
her floury hands on her apron
and
admir
ed
the fruits of her
labours.
T
he large rectangular table almost strain
ed
under the weight
of pies, cakes and scones
.   Yes, she thought, with a stab of pride, this was going to be the best picnic ever.

Fortunately for Eleanor, she had managed to avoid her godmother all morning, despite returning to her chamber to
swap
her brown dress
for one of
lawned muslin. 

‘
Please tell Lady Ormiston that I am feeling quite well today, Giles,
’
she
in
structe
d the butler, as she
tied her bonnet strings in the hall.
‘
A
nd
tell her
that I shall be spending the day in the fresh air.
’

Despite his
perplexed, disapproving expression
, the butler
had nodded his compliance.

Being an only child, Eleanor
always experienced a
stab of envy whenever she
saw
a
large, loving family
together
.
She loved her father very much but she was awar
e that, should anything happen
to him, she would be quite alone in the world
.  A
s independent
and self-sufficient
as she was, that thought
sometimes
frightened her. With a large family, one need never have such concerns: there was always a younger brother to fight
,
or an older sister
with whom to
gossip.  Eleanor had often wondered how many siblings she would have had and what they would have been like,
had
her mother not died so young.

I
n the brilliant sunlight Paddy
’s Meadow looked
magnificent.
   As she made her way there now, the gig crammed with baskets of food, she could see
the tribe of
Maguire children, including Milly, running wildly around
the field
, laughi
ng and squealing
. 

Eleanor smiled to herself.
It was good to see Milly happy again.  T
hey really had developed a mutual
fondness in the short time she had been at Whitlock.  Indeed she
doubted she would have endured her new life for so long
without
Milly’s friendship. 
The girl
was the
only
person she had met in London who
seemed anywhere near
normal.  Of course sometimes,
unfortunately,
sh
e had to pull rank
, like this morning
, w
hen Milly had
awoken quite late to find
her mistress
already up and about
. 

‘
Heavens
, miss,
’
she had
puff
ed. 
‘
Don’t know what sort of a lady’s
-
maid I am, letting you get yourself up and al
l. You should be resting after your accident, miss,
not gal
l
ivanting around.
’

‘
Milly,
’
Eleanor had replied,
‘
I am perfectly fine
.  A
nd i
f you insist on fussing
, I shall dismiss you from your post instantly.  Now I don’t want to hear another word on the subject.
’

As Eleanor pulled the gig to a halt, she was immediately accosted by the children, all eager to help
. 
She w
as amazed to
discover
that three of the brothers were the same boys with whom she had enjoyed her fishing experience at the Stanningtons’ picnic. 
Due to the display of her unconventional talents that day, Ed had apparently elevated her to
goddess
status, gazing at her in awe and tripping over himself to help
her
.

Mrs Maguire, t
he matriarch of the brood, was
in her
mid
-forties
and, despite
the lines on
her haggard face, was
still remarkably handsome
, w
ith the same blue eyes and blonde hair of her offspring.  The woman was obviously very shy and very much in awe of Eleanor, thanking her over and over again for all she was doing for them. 

‘
Mrs Maguire,
’
puff
ed
Eleanor, after the woman had told her how grateful she was for what seemed like the twenty-fifth time,
‘
let me assure you that this is nothing compared to what Milly has done for
me. 
Not only is your daughter
my one and only friend in London
, but without her
I would still be tripping over my own feet on the dance floor
.
  And that, I can tell you, is as bad in my godmother’s books, as going to a ball
wearing nothing but
one’s undergarments.
’

At Ele
anor’s do
wn-to-earth tone, Mrs Maguire had
gawped at her for several
seconds, b
efore collapsing in
to
a fit of giggles – an activity, which, if the worry lines on her forehead were anything to go by, the woman probably did not engage in very often.

‘
See, M
a,
’
beamed
Milly
proudly
,
‘
I told you she were a one, didn’t I
?
’

Eleanor, with Ed’s eager help, organi
z
ed various
game
s
for them to play
.
She had
brought
along several bats and balls and they played ro
unders; their own version of a
new game
known as
cricket; a
s well as
several others they ingeniously devised especially for the occasion. Then
, having built up
hearty appetite
s
, they tucked into the feast
Eleanor had brought along
.
  As well as th
e pies, cakes and scones
she had baked that morning, there were thick slices of ham and roast beef, a selection of cheeses, plump tomatoes, fresh fruit and jellies.

‘
Goodness
,
’
puffe
d Ed as he rubbed
his stomach,
‘
I don’t believe I’ve eaten so much in all my life, miss.
’

This
being the general
sentiment
of the
group
, it was deci
ded that a little repose would be
a good idea
.
The younger Maguires
fell
asleep with various limbs draped carelessly over their nearest sibling.
The older ones chatted amongst themselves, revelling in the heat of the afternoon and
a
rare day
away
from their
never-ending
chores.
How h
ard these people worked,
thought
Eleanor
,
and how much they appreciated the simple things in life unlike those of her own class
who filled their days with empty,
frivolous amusements.