A Regency Christmas Treat. Louise Allen

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СКАЧАТЬ Mrs Bunting asked.

      ‘Perhaps it was nothing after all. It was just that some pearls that had been in a dish were scattered all over the floor and I could think of no other explanation,’ Hester said lightly.

      ‘Oh.’ Mrs Bunting looked both thoughtful and somewhat disturbed. ‘How very…odd. Has anything else out of the ordinary occurred?’

      ‘No.’ Hester was not going to describe the state of the dressing room again. ‘Nothing.’

      ‘Well, that’s all right then.’ The vicar’s wife looked relieved. ‘There will be a perfectly rational explanation.’ She sipped her tea, then added vaguely, ‘I never think it a good idea to listen to village gossip.’

      Hester decided to ask right out. ‘Mrs Bunting, is there some rumour circulating about this house? Only the vicar said something that made me wonder, and now you mention village gossip.’

      The older woman looked distressed and flustered. ‘My foolish tongue! It is inexcusable of me to alarm you. The villagers will talk so, but I am sure it is only because this house has been empty for so long. They tell a silly tale of blighted love or some such nonsense concerning the lady who last lived here. But that was such a long time ago.’ She fanned herself with her lace handkerchief and took another sip of tea. ‘There is a local story of the scent of roses—although how anyone could know I have no idea because Sir Edward Nugent never allowed anyone in except for his agent and the occasional workman.’

      Hester shivered. She had smelt roses as she had entered the house for the first time—roses on a warm breeze in a cold airless room. ‘The garden is full of them, quite untamed and half-wild. There are even a few now with a flower or two despite the season. It is no wonder that the scent is noticeable here.’

      ‘A very sensible observation, my dear Miss Lattimer,’ Mrs Bunting remarked. ‘My husband and I have only been in the parish for four years so we know little of the earlier history. However, there has been talk of lights being seen here at night, quite recently. That seems to be a new rumour. I think it would be sensible to check all the window catches, just in case someone has started using it as a shelter. Although with you in occupation they would soon be scared away, I am sure.’

      ‘Yes,’ Hester said slowly. ‘That would be a wise precaution. How recently were the lights seen?’

      Mrs Bunting cocked her head on one side and thought. ‘Two or three days before you arrived, that I heard of. But it will have been some tramping fellow I am sure, now long gone—or imagination.’

      Hester turned the conversation and began to talk about the garden and her plans for it. In Mrs Bunting she found she had another enthusiast for horticulture and was soon overwhelmed by offers of plants and cuttings in the spring. ‘Thank you so much, ma’am, but I had better not accept anything until I have the front garden under control somewhat or I will have nowhere to put the plants. I suppose I should be concentrating on plans for the house, but I confess that I look to the garden to distract my eye from the Old Manor opposite.’

      ‘Hideous, my dear, I quite agree. And such a pity when one considers how perfectly charming the rest of the houses around the Green are. Even the humblest cottage has some picturesque merit to it.’

      ‘I wonder that a gentleman should wish to take it at such a time of year,’ Hester said, hoping that she was not sounding too interested.

      ‘Indeed!’ Mrs Bunting settled more comfortably into her chair, reminding Hester of a broody bantam sitting snugly on her nest. ‘After Boxing Day for the hunting, perhaps—but now? The villagers will have it that the earl is avoiding his creditors, but that must be nonsense, one only has to look at his horses to see he does not want for money.’

      Hester thought of the casual way he spoke of not only buying her house, but resettling her wherever she wanted to go. No, Lord Buckland was not in want of a fortune. Naturally she could not tell Mrs Bunting this.

      ‘How long has he been here?’ She poured tea and placed the biscuits within reach.

      ‘Why, not much longer than you have yourself, Miss Lattimer. Three or four days before, I cannot quite recall.’ She began to tick off on her fingers. ‘He was not in church last Sunday, that I know. Mr Bunting called on him on Wednesday I think, in very heavy rain. Yes, I recall now. He arrived on Monday.’

      Hester put her cup down with a little clatter. Lord Buckland had been in the village three days before she had arrived and during that time mysterious lights had been seen in the Moon House for the first time. She racked her memory for signs that anyone had been there, but the floors had been roughly swept in all the main rooms and there had been no betraying footprints in the dust. The dressing room had been unswept, of course. That had certainly not been entered—the dust had lain unmarked like grey snow.

      Could he have been in the house? To what end? If, as it seemed, his purpose for staying in Winterbourne St Swithin was to persuade her to sell the Moon House, why should he need to enter it clandestinely and prowl about by candlelight? She did not like feeling this suspicion, it went against her instinctive liking for him.

      Mrs Bunting was speaking again and Hester hastily composed her mind and her face and listened attentively. ‘…a small afternoon party only, you understand. Just the intimate circle of ladies in the village. We do not have a large social group actually in the village, although when one includes all the families in outlying houses and estates there is a not inconsiderable throng whenever someone holds a dance.

      ‘However, I am keeping it small because I hope to persuade Miss Nugent to attend. She is still in mourning, of course, it is only two months since her father died, but it will do her good to enjoy a little feminine company.’ She beamed at Hester. ‘Will you and Miss Prudhome be able to join us?’

      ‘Thank you, we would be delighted to. Um…which day did you say, I am afraid I did not quite catch…?’

      ‘Wednesday next week. At three. You cannot miss the vicarage, it is just up the lane next to the church.’

      Shortly after she departed, leaving Hester prey to some very mixed emotions. It was excellent that she had been invited to Mrs Bunting’s At Home, for the sooner she met and began to mix with the local ladies, the sooner she would find her feet in this small community. And some more callers coming and going would certainly help to make visits by Lord Buckland less conspicuous. But the prospect of such an exclusively feminine society was somewhat daunting. She had become so used to male company. But repining about that was pointless. She had needed a new home, a home of her own, and it was up to her to make this a success and to learn to put the dangerous pleasures of masculine company out of her mind.

      Prudy hovered anxiously, wringing her hands. ‘Oh, Hester dear, has there really been a burglar?’

      ‘I have no idea,’ Hester responded briskly. ‘But if there was, he’s gone now. We must just be careful of the doors.’ Prudy was still looking wretched. ‘What is it, Prudy?’

      ‘Did…did Mrs Bunting truly invite me as well?’

      ‘Yes, Prudy,’ Hester said firmly. ‘You are my lady companion, it is only proper that you go about with me. We will look at your gowns, I am sure one of the afternoon dresses we bought will do admirably.’

      ‘Thank you, Hester,’ the little woman responded, looking terrified.

      What was I thinking of, employing her? Hester wondered, then reproved herself. A chaperon, however СКАЧАТЬ