Anne Herries - A Wealthy Widow

‘Shall we go in to supper?’ she asked of her companion as they stood up.

‘Yes, of course.’ Melinda glanced at Sir Ralph and frowned. ‘Oh yes, I see. Poor Belle! If you are not careful, he will spoil your visit. Odious man!’

‘I shall not allow him to spoil anything,’ Arabella said, lifting her head proudly. She linked arms elegantly with her friend and they walked towards the dining room, where a cold supper awaited the guests. ‘I believe I am hungry.’ She gave Ralph a cool nod in passing, determined not to let his presence throw a cloud over her. ‘What shall we do tomorrow, Mel? I have no engagements yet.’

‘Harry is coming up to join me, but he will not arrive until the evening,’ Melinda said and looked happy. ‘I think I should like to go shopping.’

‘Yes, that would be most enjoyable,’ Arabella agreed and gave her arm a squeeze. ‘Oh, look, here is Captain Hernshaw coming to join us.’

He greeted them both warmly and offered to help choose their supper from amongst the array of delicious foods on offer. When he had selected the choicest titbits, he asked one of the circling waiters to carry it all to the table they had found by a window overlooking the gardens. It was a pretty view—small lanterns twinkled amongst the trees, giving them a magical atmosphere.

Arabella was relieved that her cousin made no attempt to join them at supper and even more so when her aunt came to sit with them, telling her that Ralph had taken himself off to meet some friends. She thought that perhaps he had realised that she did not care for his company and would have more pride than to persist with his pursuit of her. She had discovered in the past that a certain reserve of manner was usually enough to deter any but the most thick-skinned fortune hunter.

The remainder of the evening had passed very pleasantly and Arabella was smiling as she prepared for bed that night. She had enjoyed herself a great deal; though she suspected that Melinda would try to promote the interests of her brother-in-law when she could, it did not matter. She found him excellent company, but was not in the least interested in becoming his wife. However, Captain Hernshaw was not the kind of man to push himself forward without encouragement, and, although prepared to be friendly, she had given him no cause to hope.

Getting into bed, Arabella snuffed out her candle. She was tired and thought that she would soon sleep, but as she closed her eyes she found herself thinking of Charles Hunter. It was odd the way he had shut her out so suddenly that morning at the inn. Perhaps there was a secret heartache that made him wish to keep his distance from others—something that had caused those dark shadows beneath his eyes.

‘Well sir, I dunno as there’s much more I can tell you,’ Fred Lightfoot said and looked into his half-empty tankard thoughtfully. ‘As I said to his lordship, I knew there was summat going on in the woods that night. It had happened afore, see—but there were summat different about it that time. Sir Montague were a rum cove, if you ask me. A lot of them girls what they had up there were whores and it were just a bit of a lark, no real harm done—but the girl I found wandering mazed was gentlefolk. I knew it as soon as I saw her and that’s why I took her to a safe place I knew of. She didn’t seem to understand what was happening to her and I couldn’t look after a girl like that, sir. Like a frightened child she was, whimpering and shrinking from my touch, even though I told her I would not hurt her. So I went off to fetch my Mary and—’

‘When you returned she had disappeared.’ Charles frowned at him. He seemed honest and clearly Daniel trusted him. ‘Could Forsythe have come and taken her away?’

‘I doubt it, sir,’ Fred said and shook his head. ‘That cottage belongs to me now my grandfather’s dead and Sir Montague knew nothing of it. I intended to do it up for me and Mary when I got the time, but I’m going to sell it now we’ve got this place with the Earl of Cavendish.’ He scratched his head. ‘I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you. It ain’t much, I know—but that girl what drowned herself, she were a village lass. And that’s all I know, sir.’

‘I was hoping for more,’ Charles said and frowned. ‘Can you recall what she looked like—the girl you helped?’

‘Yes, sir. Lingered in my mind she has, because I felt I should have done more. A pretty girl, sir, with soft fair hair hanging halfway down her back and eyes that were more green than blue…and I noticed a little mark on her left temple. It might have been a scar or a birthmark, I can’t rightly be sure.’

Charles sat forward, touching his left temple with his forefinger. ‘Sarah had a scar there. She hit her head when playing in the nursery once. My mother dismissed the nurse who allowed it, though it was not truly the woman’s fault.’ He took a shuddering breath. ‘I believe it must have been her—the description fits her perfectly. My poor sister! What can have happened to her? I have been searching for months and this is the first time I have heard anything positive. Where could she have gone after you left her?’

‘I wish as I could help you find her, sir,’ Fred said. ‘She wandered off that night alone, but I doubt she could have gone far. It might be a good idea to start a search in the surrounding district, sir. I’ve got an aunt lives in the village of St Tydyll, not more than eighteen miles distant from Sir Montague’s estate. Not much Madge Lightfoot doesn’t know about what goes on for miles around. I could send her a letter, sir, see if she has heard anything of a girl being found.’

‘Thank you, I shall be grateful for any information Mrs Lightfoot can give me, but now that I know where to concentrate my efforts I shall set my agents on the case.’ Charles signalled to the innkeeper. He was suddenly filled with new hope. Sarah had somehow escaped from the rogues who had thought to use her in their evil rites and he could not think that God would have been so merciful only to let her perish in some other way. ‘If Sarah is still alive, I shall find her. Someone must know where she is.’

‘If she found someone kind hearted enough to take her in, she may be safe, sir—though ’tis a wonder that she has not let you know where to find her.’

‘Perhaps she cannot,’ Charles said. ‘You said that she seemed confused—’ He broke off to order more ale for them both as the landlord approached. ‘It might be that she has lost her memory.’ Or more likely that she was afraid to contact her family because she felt that she had shamed them.

‘Thank you, sir.’ Fred accepted the ale, though he had refused payment in money. ‘I’ll get my Mary to send that letter off today to my aunt. I can’t write more than my name, sir, but Mary is a clever girl. If we hear anything, she will write to you if you give me an address.’

‘You may write to my house in London,’ Charles said. ‘I am grateful for your help, Mr Lightfoot, and would willingly pay for your trouble.’

‘I don’t want money for that, sir. I feel bad enough about what happened as it is. It would be a relief to me to know that she had been found safe and sound, sir—and to her poor mother, I dare say.’

‘I dare not tell my mother anything yet,’ Charles said. ‘She has been ill since Sarah’s disappearance, and if I should disappoint her it might kill her. No, I shall keep all this close to my chest, Mr Lightfoot. If we find Sarah, only her true friends will know what has happened to her. We have not talked of it outside our family and the people I trust.’

Fred nodded his understanding. Until the girl was found, the circumstances of that terrible night and the months succeeding it could not be known. It might be that she was ruined and would never be able to take her proper place in society.