Duke's Folly Page 7

  'Good afternoon, Miss Coutras.'

  She turned to find Claud Grieves behind her. His greeting was polite, but he was standing too close and she took a step away, out of his shadow.

  'Mr Grieves.'

  'You are alone?'

  'No, I. My man is waiting at the stables. With the gig.' She tried to quell the unease she felt in the man's presence. 'I am on my way to see Miss Flynn.'

  'Then I will accompany you. Pray, let me carry your basket―'

  'No. Thank you.' She clutched tighter at the handle and began to walk. Mr Grieves fell into step beside her. 'And, really, there is no need to accompany me. It is not far to Miss Flynn's house.'

  'But a pretty young lady should not be unattended.'

  He leaned closer, smiling, as he spoke and Sophie repressed a shudder. She said pointedly, 'How is your wife?'

  If she had thought to discompose him she was disappointed, for he replied easily. 'Very well, I thank you. Busy, as always, with her own interests.'

  Sophie wondered what interests the poor woman might have. She was only distantly acquainted with Mrs Grieves, but had formed the impression of a grey, quiet little woman, frightened of her own shadow. She saw her in town occasionally and at church on a Sunday, when the woman would scuttle in and out again with barely a word to anyone.

  She could think of nothing else to say and they walked on in silence, which Sophie hoped would not offend her escort. After all, he represented their landlord and might make life difficult for Papa, if he chose to do so. She was thankful when they had travelled the short distance to Miss Flynn's lodging, where Sophie thanked him and bade him good day.

  As she turned away he detained her.

  'May I wait for you? I might escort you back to the castle.'

  She froze, looking stonily down at his hand until he removed it from her arm.

  'Thank you, but no, Mr Grieves. That will not be necessary.'

  She met his eyes, hoping he understood that her response was final. At last he gave a little shrug and stepped back.

  'As you wish, Miss Coutras.' He touched his hat to her. 'We shall meet again shortly, when I call upon your father. Perhaps you will inform him.'

  With a slight bow he turned and sauntered off. Sophia watched him, as if she needed to be sure he was gone before she turned her back on him. When he was out of sight she raised her hand to the knocker. The door opened almost immediately, and Miss Flynn was welcoming her in.

  'I beg your pardon,' Sophie greeted her. 'It has been some weeks since I called.'

  The old lady waved away her apology.

  'I heard voices and looked out of my window,' she explained, leading her guest up the narrow stairs to her rooms on the first floor. 'I saw Claud Grieves talking to you.'

  'Yes. He came up to me on the High Street.'

  Miss Flynn stopped and looked back, her eyes sharp and searching. 'Your tone tells me you do not like him.'

  She resumed the climb and Sophie followed her, saying, 'I am not…comfortable in his company.'

  'And nor should you be.' Miss Flynn gestured to her to come into her sitting room and waited until they were both seated before saying more. 'Has he been making a nuisance of himself?'

  'No, not really. We met by chance and he insisted upon accompanying me.'

  'Ah,' the old woman nodded sagely. 'I wondered when he would turn his attention to you. It was bound to happen, I suppose.'

  Sophie frowned. 'I beg your pardon, Miss Flynn. I do not understand.

  'Claud Grieves is a snake and should be treated with due caution.'

  Sophie had never heard the old woman speak so strongly against anyone. Her shock must have been evident in her face, because the old woman shook her head.

  'I beg your pardon, but I must speak frankly. You live very sheltered here, Sophie, you have no mother and I doubt your father has any sense of the world outside his books and his writing! So I must put you on your guard. The man is a womaniser, and once he gets a fancy for a woman he pursues her relentlessly. He ruined young Martha Tisted out at Beechwood Farm, got her with child then refused to acknowledge it was his doing. That's why her parents sent her off out of harm's way to have the baby.'

  'I had not heard this,' said Sophie, shocked.

  'There are those who think respectable young ladies should not be privy to such gossip,' said Miss Flynn, 'but in my view it is better for them to know what is going on in the world.' She sighed. 'I pity his poor children, and his wife. Sally Grieves was such a pretty young woman, but he crushed her spirit years ago. She is completely under his thumb.'

  'Thank you for the warning,' said Sophie. 'I shall be more careful in future.'

  'Aye, well, I thought it best to give you the hint.' The old lady sat up straighter and smiled. 'But enough of this. Tell me instead about this handsome young stranger who is staying at the Greyhound. He was here earlier in the year, I believe.'

  'Mr Wyre? What do you know of him?'

  Miss Flynn laughed. 'Very little, which is why I am asking you about him. I believe he has called upon your father more than once.'

  'Yes.' Sophie felt herself blushing. 'I am afraid we know very little more than you about him. He has business in the area, although I do not know what, neither has he told us where he is from. Papa likes him,' she added. 'And the boys, too. In fact, he is at the castle this afternoon, he promised to let them drive his curricle.'

  'And you did not wish to see him?' Miss Flynn gave her another of her shrewd looks. 'Perhaps you were afraid to meet him.'

  Sophie was about to deny it, but instead she gave a long sigh.

  'He is very attractive, Miss Flynn.'

  The old lady leaned across and patted her hand. 'Then you are wise to keep your distance, at least until we know more of the fellow. I must see what I can discover.'

  Sophie laughed at that, but she shook her head. 'We must not pry, Miss Flynn. A gentleman is entitled to travel through Hyndmarsh without telling all and sundry what he is about!'

  'Of course he is, and I have no intention of prying, but when my young friend finds herself drawn to a gentleman then it is my duty to do what I can to find out if he is eligible!'

  Sophie laughed, blushed and disclaimed. Miss Flynn turned the subject, but when Sophie took her leave some time later she could not help feeling a little happier. It had helped to speak of Mr Wyre to someone, and to know Miss Flynn agreed that she was right to keep her distance. She was also relieved that Claud Grieves was not waiting for her when she emerged, and she hurried back to the stables, where Owen was waiting with the gig.

  She was not sure whether she most hoped or feared to pass Mr Wyre on the journey home, but when she saw his smart curricle bowling towards her she could not prevent the sudden lightness in her stomach. They were obliged to slow down to pass on the narrow road, and when the curricle came to a halt it was impossible not to ask Owen to do the same, that the gentleman might speak to her.

  'Good evening, Miss Coutras.' He touched his hat.

  'Mr Wyre.'

  'I was sorry to miss you.'

  She inclined her head, but said merely, 'I hope the boys did not wear you out.'

  He grinned and she felt as if a net full of butterflies had been emptied into her stomach.

  'Not in the least. They are good company. And both proficient with the reins.'

  His praise of her brothers could not but please her, and she said more warmly, 'Thank you for spending time with them―'

  'You do not need to thank me, they have done that for themselves, more than adequately!' He laughed. 'And they are repaying me by allowing me to go fishing with them in the lake tomorrow!'

  'But what of your business?' she asked him.

  'I shall attend to that in the early morning and leave myself free to spend the rest of the day fishing. Let us hope the weather holds!'

  With a wave he moved on and Owen set Hercules trotting towards home. Fishing. Sophie smiled to herself. That was safer ground. She would not be required t
o see Mr Wyre if he was in the boat. When they reached the castle she went indoors, where the boys were waiting to regale her with a detailed description of Mr Wyre's visit. They told her also that they had invited him to join them on the lake the following day and with one or two careful questions she discovered there had been no mention of their guest staying to dinner. They would take a little something to keep them going through the day, to make the most of the light. Sophie thought she might now relax. There was plenty to keep her occupied in the kitchen, so it was very likely that she would not see the gentleman who troubled her dreams at all tomorrow.

  'You have another bite!' Hugh was struggling to contain his excitement. 'Steady, Perry. Steady now…'

  Perry grinned as he reeled in his line. The boys were as excited by his success as their own. It had been a good day. Formality had soon been abandoned as they shared a meal of bread, cheese, fruit and meat pie that the boys had brought with them. The fish had been biting and there had been enough sun for them all to discard their jackets. Now, as the sun dipped low, there was some good-natured banter as they compared their fish and prepared to row to the shore with their bounty.

  'We have enough for dinner,' exclaimed Armand happily. 'Papa is very fond of fish.'

  'Will you stay and eat with us?' Hugh asked him, expertly plying the oars.

  Perry hesitated. He should get back, but the day had been very enjoyable and he could not deny the idea of enjoying the fruits of his labours was tempting.

  'Very well, although I must not be late. I have a busy day planned tomorrow.'

  The boys whooped happily and when they landed on the island they all piled ashore, leaving coats, fishing rods and tackle in the boat to sort out later and hurrying indoors with their catch. Perry could not help grinning at the boys' enthusiasm as he followed them through the castle. Armand led the way, throwing open the door to the lofty kitchen and crying out for everyone to see what they had brought.

  Perry stopped in the doorway, feeling slightly out of place and uncomfortable without his coat, but no one appeared to notice. Joan was stirring a kettle over the open fire, but it was Sophie who held his attention. She was at the kitchen table, a linen apron over her gown and her hands working at something in a large mixing bowl. Both women looked up as they all tumbled into the room.

  'Joan, Sophie, look how well we have done!' cried Armand. 'There is more than enough here for dinner.'

  'Yes, yes, Master Armand, I can see very well without you waving those fish about and getting water everywhere!' The maid pointed her spoon towards the door in the corner. 'Take them through to the larder, if you please, and lay them on the marble shelf. I will deal with them later. You, too, Master Hugh―and keep them away from the table or Miss Sophie's pudding will be spoiled!'

  'Yes, yes, do take the fish to the larder where they can stay cool until we can see to them. Do it quickly, you horrid boys!'

  Sophie was laughing. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat of the kitchen and there was a smudge of flour on her nose, which made Perry grin. At that moment she became aware of him standing in the doorway and her smile faltered.

  'Oh, Mr Wyre.' She reached for a cloth and began to wipe her hands. 'I did not, I thought―'

  'Perry has agreed to eat with us,' said Hugh, emerging from the larder. 'We can hardly turn him away, since he caught most of the fish.'

  'No, no, of course not, but there is little prepared.' She glanced at him, then away again. 'We usually dine very simply, when the boys have been fishing.'

  'But there is more than enough,' reasoned Armand. 'And Perry did catch a great deal of it.'

  'I should like to join you in a simple supper,' he said quickly. He glanced down at himself. 'You see I am hardly dressed for a formal meal.' He could see she was wavering and murmured wickedly, 'and as Armand says, I did catch some of it.'

  Her lips twitched and after a struggle with herself she burst out laughing.

  'Very well, but do not say I did not warn you! Now go away, all of you, and let us get on or there will be no dinner at all this evening!'

  Laughing and blushing at the same time, Sophie waved them all out of the kitchen. Having denied herself the treat of a curricle ride yesterday she had spent the day wondering what she had missed. Working with Joan in the kitchen had given her plenty of time to ponder the matter, and as she worked the ingredients together in the bowl for the plum cake, she thought perhaps she was being too cautious. After all, what harm was there in enjoying a gentleman's company?

  Then the boys had arrived, noisy and jubilant, and behind them was Mr Wyre. A little bubble of happiness grew inside her. The boys had called him Perry. They obviously regarded him as a friend now. She remembered the moment she had seen him standing at the kitchen door, laughing, looking very much like a boy himself in his loose shirt and with his hair a little tousled from the day's exertions. Surely, she had nothing to fear there. For a moment she recalled her meeting with Mr Grieves yesterday and her happiness clouded. His attentions were something she could well do without. But Perry was different, he paid her no effusive compliments and did not discompose her with leering smiles. He had always treated her with respect. Perhaps she, too, might regard him as a friend, even for a short time? Nothing could come of it, she was well aware of that. Her birth was good, she thought herself moderately accomplished, but without a dowry no sensible gentleman would consider her an eligible match. The best she might hope for was to marry a respectable farmer, or perhaps a shopkeeper. The idea did not appeal. She would rather spend her days looking after Papa and the boys.

  'Well, Miss Sophie, we'd better look at all those fish. And decide how best to cook them.'

  Joan's prosaic statement brought Sophie back to the present. She might not be a great lady, but she was a good housekeeper, and tonight she would help Joan to prepare a feast that would not disgrace any great lord's table!

  They dined in the parlour, the little table filled with dishes, including a fricassee of tench with peas, and boiled carp with caper sauce. With the addition of a mulligatawny soup made from yesterday's meat, Sophie considered this was more than sufficient for a simple supper.

  The meal began on an awkward note, for Papa was not joining them and Sophie was obliged to explain why there were only four places set at the table.

  'My father had his dinner sent up to his book room earlier, so he might continue to work. He sends his apologies, sir.' She looked a little self-conscious. 'I had hoped, when he heard you were here, that he might be persuaded to leave his work for an evening. It would do him good to take a little break from his writing but…Papa is a little distracted at present, you see. He is wrestling with rather a difficult passage in his book.'

  'That is because he is trying to hurry the chapter to a conclusion,' added Hugh, helping himself to more of the carp. 'He told me the words are not coming easily to him.'

  'Is his publisher rushing him, perhaps?' asked Perry.

  'No, that's not it,' said Armand, reaching for the plum cake. 'Papa wants to finish it soon and put it up for sale in the hope that it will make us a great deal of money.'

  Sophie frowned at her little brother, but the others laughed, and Perry asked Armand what he would do, if he had a fortune.

  'I would buy the lake and castle for Papa,' he said promptly, 'so that he and Sophie need no longer fret about it.' An awkward silence fell. Hugh nudged his little brother and told him to be quiet.

  'But it is true', protested Armand. 'I heard them talking about not being able to afford to live here.'

  'Yes, but we were speaking in general terms,' Sophie explained hastily, very conscious of Perry sitting beside her at the table. She tried to sound confident and reassuring. 'There has been no change to our circumstances, so there is no need for anyone to fret. Mr Wyre, will you not try the tench? Armand tells me you caught it.'

  Perry allowed himself to be persuaded and when she introduced another topic of conversation he followed her lead, but he had seen the play of emotion
that flitted across Sophie's countenance like clouds across a summer sky. She was concerned, that was clear. He would dearly have liked to put her mind at rest, to assure her that they could remain at the castle for as long as they wished, but that would involve an explanation, and this cosy, relaxed little dinner was not the place for such a revelation. Silently he berated himself for a coward, but he salved his conscience with the fact that in a week or so they would know the truth, and in the meantime, why should he not enjoy his holiday a little longer?

  After the meal Perry enjoyed a noisy game of Lottery with Sophie and her brothers. The evening passed quickly and it was not until Monsieur Coutras came in that he glanced at the little French timepiece on the mantelshelf.

  'I had not intended to stay so late, I beg your pardon―'

  'No, no, it is I who should beg yours for not joining you,' said the old man in his gentle way. 'I have been a host most remiss, but I hope my children have kept you well entertained?'

  'Too well,' replied Perry with a rueful smile. 'I was enjoying myself so much that I completely forgot the time.'

  'We shall take that as a compliment then,' smiled the Frenchman.

  'Indeed, but I should go now, without further ado.'

  Armand was despatched to the stables while Perry took his leave, finally turning to Sophie.

  'Thank you for a most pleasant evening, Miss Coutras. I pray you will none of you disturb yourselves on my account, I can see myself out.'

  But the whole family insisted upon accompanying him to the door and the balmy summer night persuaded them to continue with him to the stables, where Owen was waiting with his horse.

  'I feel I have been a poor host this evening,' said Monsieur Coutras. 'Perhaps you would allow me to make amends. Come to dinner with us tomorrow night, sir. With all of us.' He glanced up at the sky. 'I believe this good weather is set to hold for a day or two yet, so there will be a moon.'