Anne Herries - An Improper Companion

‘You are right to censure me,’ Reverend Bell said. ‘I should not be critical of others because they have so much—but I cannot always help myself when I know of the great need in the world.’

‘But you want to do too much,’ Elizabeth told him with a gentle smile. ‘Do you not think that we must be satisfied to do what good we can? You are only one man and the cares of your parish are heavy enough. You cannot right the wrongs of the world. Only God may do that, I think.’

‘How well you understand me,’ he said, struck by her words. ‘You are very right, I do take too much upon myself at times. I must learn humility, Miss Travers.’

‘I think you are very well as you are, sir,’ she said, for she liked him. His earnest desire to help others, and his willingness to listen, were traits that must be admired in any man. ‘It is good to strive in the cause of others, but we must accept our limitations and not despair that we cannot cure all ills. Do you not agree?’

‘Yes, indeed. What a sensible, caring young lady you are,’ he said approvingly. ‘I am glad to have had this opportunity to talk to you, Miss Travers, and I shall look forward to furthering our acquaintance.’

‘As I shall,’ Elizabeth assured him. ‘And now I must go—it will soon be time for nuncheon and I must not keep Lady Isadora waiting.’

‘No, no, of course not. Good day to you, Miss Travers. I shall see you tomorrow evening, I hope?’

‘Yes, certainly,’ Elizabeth said. ‘It will be an opportunity for me to meet others of Lady Isadora’s friends.’

She took her leave of him, setting off across the meadow at a good pace. As she did so, she saw a young lady heading towards the church and heard her call to the reverend, but she did not look back for the time was slipping away and she did not wish to be late for nuncheon.

Lady Isadora came down for nuncheon, which was served at some twenty minutes past the hour of noon. It was a light meal of cold meat, thin bread and butter and some pickles, followed if one wished for it by a lemon-flavoured custard. However, the earl, who had gone out on estate business and was not expected to return until the evening, did not join them.

After lunch they repaired to the small parlour at the back of the house. From its long windows there was a pleasant view of the gardens, and beyond them the meadow and the church spire in the distance.

‘Now we can be comfortable,’ Lady Isadora said, smiling at her. ‘Shall we do a little embroidery, I wonder? Or shall you read to me while I stitch?’

‘Have you your embroidery with you, ma’am?’

‘It is in that worktable. Pull out the compartment at the bottom and you will discover a hanging I have been working on for the church. At least, I began it, but I must confess that Miss Ridley—Helen—has done most of it for me. But do pull it out, Elizabeth dear, and let us see what remains to be done.’

Elizabeth did as she was bid, and discovered that Lady Isadora and her former companion had been working on what was clearly intended to be an altar cloth. It was an ambitious project and the work was very fine, but it would need an ambitious needlewoman to complete such a task.

‘It is rather lovely,’ Elizabeth said. ‘The silks are a little tangled, but I can soon sort them for you—though it would be done sooner if we worked on it together.’

‘I do not think I care to embroider today,’ Lady Isadora decided. ‘What have you brought to read this afternoon?’

‘I have here a book of poems, Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew—or Fanny Burney’s novel…’

‘I enjoyed Mrs Burney’s Evelina, but I do not care for some of her later work. I think I should enjoy a little of Shakespeare’s play,’ Lady Isadora said. ‘If you could bear to read that?’

‘It is most amusing,’ Elizabeth agreed. ‘I love the struggle between Petruccio and Kate.’

‘Yes, indeed,’ Lady Isadora said and lay back against the silken cushions on her sofa. ‘Please begin when you feel ready, my dear.’

Elizabeth opened the book and began to read. She had a pleasant voice, and put expression into her reading. In actual fact she acted out each part, and after a few minutes Lady Isadora sat up, laughing, her face animated and eager.

‘Oh, my dear!’ she exclaimed. ‘I declare it is the equal of being at the theatre to hear you. Helen only read the words, but you put so much expression into them. But I am interrupting you. Please do continue. I had forgotten how wonderful it was to hear William Shakespeare’s words spoken with feeling.’

Elizabeth continued to read for almost an hour, after which Lady Isadora rang for tea, for as she said Elizabeth’s throat must be dry.

‘It has been such a joy to me,’ she told her young companion. ‘I shall look forward to continuing tomorrow—but I must not tire you. Now we shall relax and talk, my dear. Tell me, what did you think of the Reverend Bell?’

‘He seems both pleasant and dedicated to his calling,’ Elizabeth said. ‘I liked him—and I have promised to help where I can. I felt a little sad for him, knowing that he had lost his wife and child. A man in his position needs a wife—do you not think so?’

‘Yes, perhaps,’ Lady Isadora said, frowning a little. ‘I think Miss Giles might like to fill that position, though perhaps she is a little too silly for his taste.’

‘Miss Giles?’

‘You will meet Julia tomorrow evening. Her parents are neighbours—Sir Henry and Lady Giles. They have an estate no more than six miles to the south of Cavendish. They are, in fact, our nearest neighbours.’

‘I see,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Their estate cannot then be far from the village?’

‘No, it is not more than three miles, I dare say. Why do you ask, my dear?’

‘Oh, merely curiosity,’ Elizabeth told her. ‘Do you see the family often?’

‘Lady Giles calls now and then, but she prefers London or Bath to the country. They are planning on a Season for Julia this year…’

‘I see,’ Elizabeth said. ‘No doubt Miss Giles is looking forward to the trip.’

‘Yes, I expect so. I find London too tiring myself, but I shall enjoy a few weeks at Brighton in the summer—and of course we may go to Bath in the autumn.’

‘I am sure the sea air will do you good, ma’am,’ Elizabeth said. ‘I have never—’

What she was about to say was lost, for through the French windows she saw a sight that put everything else from her mind. Two men were walking across the lawns towards the parlour, one supporting the other, their footsteps uneven and awkward. Jumping to her feet, Elizabeth went to open the French door, for she could see that something was wrong. One of them was either hurt or ill and she sensed that help was imperative.

‘Miss Travers,’ the earl called to her. ‘Thank you for seeing our need. I fear that Mr Elworthy has been shot through the shoulder. I think the wound is not serious, but we must get him to bed and the doctor must attend him immediately.’

‘What is wrong?’ Lady Isadora had followed Elizabeth out to the terrace, and now gave a cry of alarm. ‘Daniel—what happened? You haven’t done anything foolish, I hope?’

‘John was shot at from behind as he rode here to visit me,’ Daniel said. ‘I dare say it was a careless poacher. Fortunately, I returned sooner than I had planned and discovered him lying in the road. He has lost a lot of blood and is barely conscious.’

‘Please ring for the servants, ma’am,’ Elizabeth said to Lady Isadora. She went to the other side of Mr Elworthy and put her arm about his waist, taking some of the weight on to herself and earning a surprised look of gratitude from the earl. ‘Come, sir. We must get you upstairs as easily as we can for your wound has bled and needs attention.’ Glancing over her shoulder at her employer, she added, ‘Please send Amy up to me with linen and salves, for this wound must be bound until the doctor arrives.’