Pleased by this show of support, Hester relaxed, only to be jolted by Jethro. ‘Where did those dead roses come from, Miss Hester?’
There was no point dissembling. ‘I have no idea. I found them on the dining-room table this morning.’ She looked at their startled faces and added, ‘Next to a burned-out candle in a chamber stick.’
‘But there was no one-’
‘You saw a light before we got home!’
‘What roses?’
They spoke over each other in a rush of realization, then fell silent. Jethro gnawed his lower lip. ‘I locked up, all right and tight before we went out, Miss Hester, I’d take my Bible oath on it.’
‘I know,’ she assured him. ‘And you checked again when we got home, I saw you.’
‘We’ll have to change the locks,’ he announced. ‘And I’ll go all round outside and try to force the window catches, see if there are any that are loose.’
‘What did his lordship have to say about the roses?’ Prudy asked abruptly.
‘He said he did not like their symbolism.’
Jethro’s brow furrowed and Susan explained. ‘Dead flowers. And roses, at that-like dead love, perhaps. Nasty.’ She shivered.
‘Well, we will do no good brooding on it,’ Hester said briskly. ‘Jethro, when you have brought in the coals for Susan and checked the windows, please take the gig into Tring and find a locksmith. Susan, you have plenty to do in the house. Prudy, could you spare me a moment, please?’
‘Should we lock ourselves in?’ Miss Prudhome enquired nervously.
‘Certainly not.’ Hester was brisk. ‘Whoever it is, is trying to scare us away and I will not give them the satisfaction.’
She poured herself another cup of coffee, pretending she did not hear Jethro’s muttered observation, ‘Only one person we know of wants us out of here, and that’s a fact.’
When the coffee was finished Hester felt she could put a difficult interview off no longer and bore Miss Prudhome away into the drawing room.
‘What do the roses really mean?’ the little governess asked, her voice quavering.
‘I do not know, only that it appears that someone has access to the house without our knowledge.’
To her surprise Miss Prudhome did not throw a fit of the vapours that Hester had expected to be developing. Her thin lips narrowed and she sat up straighter. ‘And do I understand that his lordship is under suspicion, Hester dear?’
‘He is the only person we know of who wishes me to leave,’ Hester admitted.
‘I know my duty,’ Miss Prudhome announced, ‘it is to protect you.’ Her voice shook again. ‘I know I have not been strong enough. I have shrunk from standing at your side.’
‘It is all so new to you, Maria,’ Hester said, suddenly desperately sorry for the lonely little figure.
Miss Prudhome started. ‘No one ever calls me by my Christian name; my pupils always called me Prudy…’
‘But I am not a pupil,’ Hester said gently. ‘Was it so very difficult and lonely, being a governess?’
‘Yes, but one expects it, you see,’ Maria confided. ‘One is neither one thing nor the other. It was difficult at first, when one was young, to know one’s place, but one soon learns…’
No doubt one does, Hester thought grimly. A few snubs from one’s employers, a few turned shoulders from the upper staff. Yes, one would soon learn one ‘s place.
‘Well, in this house you are my companion and an equal, for I need you very much and I have every confidence that you will help and support me,’ she said bracingly. ‘Now, tomorrow I would like you to wear your best afternoon gown and borrow my Paisley shawl and you must do your utmost to join in the conversation as an equal, which you are.’ She watched the emotions chase across the plain face opposite her and leaned forward to pat Maria’s hand. ‘I am relying on you, Maria. Besides wishing to have your companionship, my reputation depends upon your chaperonage.’
The household had passed a jumpy day and night looking forward to the locksmith’s promised arrival. Hester was conscious of not looking her best as she dressed for Mrs Bunting’s At Home on Wednesday. She chose an afternoon gown of impeccable respectability, added a modest lace fichu and sallied forth with pelisse and umbrella and Maria at her side.
The Rectory was a bustle of feminine chatter by the time she arrived and Hester was grateful that she already knew the Redland ladies and Mrs Piper, as well as their hostess. She greeted her acquaintances, was introduced to the widowed Mrs Griggs and her plain niece Miss Willings and with Maria took an early opportunity to catch Mrs Redland alone.
‘I wonder, ma’am, if I might presume to ask your advice about a sensitive matter?’ She saw immediately it was the correct approach. The matron’s eyes sharpened, but she inclined her head graciously, obviously gratified to be the recipient of such confidence. Hester launched into her carefully prepared speech.
‘… so different from London-I was confident that in such a close and respectable society my age and single status would be compensated for by the kindly attention of my new acquaintance, and of course, by the presence of my dear Miss Prudhome.’ This produced an understanding nod, so Hester forged on. ‘But, ma’am, imagine my discomfort when I discover that my nearest neighbour is a bachelor and one with no established character in the district. And worse, one whose arrival so nearly coincided with my own.’
Mrs Redland’s expression became positively avid. Hester hurried to reassure-and disappoint-her. ‘Not that his lordship has behaved in any way that causes me in the slightest to doubt his gentlemanly instincts.’ She crossed her fingers behind her back; she was as much to blame for that kiss as he and she had no intention of blackening Guy Westrope’s name. But I hear from my staff there has been talk in the village-you can see why I am concerned.’
‘Indeed I can.’ Mrs Redland took Hester’s arm and steered her towards the window seat. ‘No one would think anything of your youth once they had made your acquaintance, my dear, and that of Miss Prudhome here.’ The companion produced a gratified twitter. ‘As you say, the country is a very different matter to the town. But I understand your scruples about the near proximity of a single gentleman to your establishment. Do not concern yourself-with your permission I will confide n the ladies of influence in our little circle. They will watch out for your welfare and at the same time provide you with any additional chaperonage or protection you may require.’
That was all Hester had hoped for and more. With expressions of gratitude, which Mrs Redland accepted with a gracious smile, Hester was setting about greeting old acquaintances and drawing Maria into conversation with new ones when Miss Nugent was shown in.
Hester regarded Sir Lewis’s sister thoughtfully as her hostess brought her across the room to be introduced to the newcomers. Dark hair and large greenish hazel eyes like her brother, average height, a delightful figure and an expression of suffering bravely borne. Hester’s immediate reaction was that this last was somewhat overdone, then she chided herself for a lack of charity. Everyone dealt with grief differently; just because she did not suffer from an excess of sensibility herself, it did not mean that no one else might.
‘How do you do, Miss Lattimer?’ The delicately gloved hand rested in hers for a moment, making Hester feel over-large and clumsy.
‘Miss Nugent. I am so glad to meet you and to have the opportunity of expressing my condolences. I was not acquainted with your father, but I know his loss is much felt hereabouts, and must be a great sadness for his family.’
‘Thank you.’ It was said with a brave sigh and a downward flutter of eyelashes, then Miss Nugent seemed to gather herself. ‘And are you comfortable in the Moon House? For myself I wonder that you should care to live there; I know Lewis would never have sold it to a single lady-he says he wishes you would sell it back-but of course poor Papa was too unwell to consider that sort of thing.’
‘What sort of thing?’ Hester asked.
Miss Nugent waved her hands vaguely. ‘Oh, the local stories, the lights and so on. Ghost stories are all very well, but one hardly wants to live in a haunted house, does one?’
‘Well, no, one does not,’ Hester said as briskly as she could manage. ‘Not that I believe in ghosts and I do not for a moment believe the Moon House to be haunted.’
‘You are so brave!’ Miss Nugent exclaimed in a tone that suggested that she was too polite to say ‘foolhardy’. ‘All I know is that dearest Papa could never find anyone willing to remain in it-not after the first cycle of the moon.’
‘What can you mean-?’ Hester began, only to be interrupted by Annabelle Redland.
