Read Online The House at Bell Orchard by Sylvia Thorpe - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sylvia Thorpe
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ever dramatizing the most commonplace incidents, and seeing mystery and drama where neither existed. Having already cast Charmian Tarrant in a romantic role, it was not difficult to picture her as the victim of some sinister plot, from which it would, of course, be necessary for Piers to rescue her. The fact it might be exceedingly difficult to persuade her practical and levelheaded brother to enter into the adventurous spirit of such an undertaking was something which, for the present, Miss Wychwood was disposed to ignore.
It was obvious, however, that she would be carrying out his wishes by establishing a cordial relationship with Miss Tarrant, so she made every effort to be pleasant to her, and followed this up, as she and her mother were leaving, with an ingenuous suggestion that perhaps Mrs. Fenshawe and her guest would care to visit them at Wychwood Chase in the near future. Lady Wychwood, who had found Miss Tarrant sufficiently to her liking to wonder secretly whether there was any foundation for Dorothy’s outrageous suggestion the previous day, at once confirmed the invitation, but Mrs. Fenshawe, giving Charmian no chance to speak, said quickly:
“It is most kind of your ladyship, but since Miss Tarrant is in mourning, it cannot be thought proper for her to go into company.”
“My dear Mrs. Fenshawe, I would not dream of suggesting that she should,” her ladyship replied in shocked tones. “There can be nothing amiss, though, in you and her spending an hour or so with us one day, if you would care to do so.”
“Oh, Lavinia, may we not go?” Charmian said eagerly. “I do not wish to seem lacking in respect for Papa’s memory, but I would so much like to accept Lady Wychwood’s invitation.”
Mrs. Fenshawe realized that she was fairly trapped. To persist in a refusal would seem churlish, and might even arouse unwelcome suspicion if Lady Wychwood mentioned the matter to her son. With a smile which successfully masked seething anger, she said lightly:
“Of course, my love, if you feel yourself equal to paying calls we can most certainly go. You know that I am willing to do anything that will give you pleasure.”
It was arranged that the visit should take place three days later, and as the time approached, Charmian realized that she was looking forward to it with an eagerness out of all proportion to so small a diversion. This was not merely because she had taken an instant liking to the Wychwoods, or even because she was lonely and unhappy at Bell Orchard. At the back of her mind, like a threatening shadow darkening all her days, was the thought of the disclosures which Colonel Fenshawe had made to her before returning to London. These had profoundly shocked and frightened her, and raised in her mind numerous unanswerable questions. Was there any real danger to the peace and security of England in the activities of which he had spoken, or were he and his associates deluding themselves into believing that they could further a cause already lost? Was it her duty, in spite of the Colonel’s veiled threats, to inform the authorities of what she had been told? Would they believe her, and what punishment would she suffer at Fenshawe’s hands?
It seemed to Charmian that every attempt she made to solve her problems merely created others, more formidable than those which had gone before. The things which Fenshawe had told her cast a new and sinister light upon his desire to see her married to his son. Her father’s fortune had been swallowed by the insatiable demands of the Stuart cause; was her own destined to go the same way? Harry might be firm in his refusal to marry her, but she could not forget that he had a brother, who had already proved to be her most persistent suitor. If the Colonel failed to browbeat his elder son into marriage, he might well do all in his power to make her the wife of the younger.
It was in vain that she reminded herself that the ultimate decision, now that her father was
It was obvious, however, that she would be carrying out his wishes by establishing a cordial relationship with Miss Tarrant, so she made every effort to be pleasant to her, and followed this up, as she and her mother were leaving, with an ingenuous suggestion that perhaps Mrs. Fenshawe and her guest would care to visit them at Wychwood Chase in the near future. Lady Wychwood, who had found Miss Tarrant sufficiently to her liking to wonder secretly whether there was any foundation for Dorothy’s outrageous suggestion the previous day, at once confirmed the invitation, but Mrs. Fenshawe, giving Charmian no chance to speak, said quickly:
“It is most kind of your ladyship, but since Miss Tarrant is in mourning, it cannot be thought proper for her to go into company.”
“My dear Mrs. Fenshawe, I would not dream of suggesting that she should,” her ladyship replied in shocked tones. “There can be nothing amiss, though, in you and her spending an hour or so with us one day, if you would care to do so.”
“Oh, Lavinia, may we not go?” Charmian said eagerly. “I do not wish to seem lacking in respect for Papa’s memory, but I would so much like to accept Lady Wychwood’s invitation.”
Mrs. Fenshawe realized that she was fairly trapped. To persist in a refusal would seem churlish, and might even arouse unwelcome suspicion if Lady Wychwood mentioned the matter to her son. With a smile which successfully masked seething anger, she said lightly:
“Of course, my love, if you feel yourself equal to paying calls we can most certainly go. You know that I am willing to do anything that will give you pleasure.”
It was arranged that the visit should take place three days later, and as the time approached, Charmian realized that she was looking forward to it with an eagerness out of all proportion to so small a diversion. This was not merely because she had taken an instant liking to the Wychwoods, or even because she was lonely and unhappy at Bell Orchard. At the back of her mind, like a threatening shadow darkening all her days, was the thought of the disclosures which Colonel Fenshawe had made to her before returning to London. These had profoundly shocked and frightened her, and raised in her mind numerous unanswerable questions. Was there any real danger to the peace and security of England in the activities of which he had spoken, or were he and his associates deluding themselves into believing that they could further a cause already lost? Was it her duty, in spite of the Colonel’s veiled threats, to inform the authorities of what she had been told? Would they believe her, and what punishment would she suffer at Fenshawe’s hands?
It seemed to Charmian that every attempt she made to solve her problems merely created others, more formidable than those which had gone before. The things which Fenshawe had told her cast a new and sinister light upon his desire to see her married to his son. Her father’s fortune had been swallowed by the insatiable demands of the Stuart cause; was her own destined to go the same way? Harry might be firm in his refusal to marry her, but she could not forget that he had a brother, who had already proved to be her most persistent suitor. If the Colonel failed to browbeat his elder son into marriage, he might well do all in his power to make her the wife of the younger.
It was in vain that she reminded herself that the ultimate decision, now that her father was
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