hand resting splayed against the glass as though to touch the moon that was reflected there.
‘Hester, I love you. I will make it right, I promise you.’
‘My lord?’ A groom was swinging the gates open.
‘What? Oh, nothing, just thinking aloud. Thank you, Wilkins. Give him a good rub down and extra oats, he’s done well today.’
Hester came down to breakfast the next morning filled with a kind of bitter energy that cowed her household into silence. As she met their anxious eyes her resolve almost faltered, then she took a deep breath and sat down. ‘I am not going to discuss what happened yesterday. You all know the truth, but l forbid you to offer any kind of explanation to Lord Buckland or his sister. You will not speak or have any kind of communication with them. Neither they, nor any of their servants, will set foot in this house. Do I make myself plain?’
‘But, Hester, if he knew the truth…’ Maria faltered with what Hester realised was considerable courage. Explaining felt like running a knife into her heart, but she knew she owed them that.
‘If I, or you, tell him the truth, how will I ever know he trusts me? If he cannot tell what and who I am, then I do not want him, or his love.’
‘Bastard,’ Jethro muttered, his face red with emotion. Hester could tell he was close to tears.
‘I am sorry, we will have to find you another mentor in place of Mr Parrott,’ she said gently.
‘I don’t care. If he works for
Silence fell, broken only by Susan mechanically lifting eggs out of the skillet on to a plate and Miss Prudhome tearfully making tea.
‘Are we going to move away?’ Susan ventured at last as they sat down and began to eat. Hester found that she could. It seemed that hunger, or at least hunger stimulated by the smell of frying bacon, could overcome even a broken heart. From somewhere a small, twisted gleam of humour tried to raise its head.
‘What? Cut and run? I think not. We have a party to prepare for and most of the gentry for two miles around invited to it. There will be two fewer guests than I had planned upon; we will not regard that.’ She looked around at their startled faces. ‘I have done nothing wrong. I do not intend skulking off like a pariah, especially after I have offered hospitality to friends.’
‘And to the Nugents,’ Susan reminded her. ‘Lord Buckland had a plan to send them rightabouts. What about that?’
The pain that lanced through her at the mention of his name took Hester by surprise. For a moment she could not reply. ‘I can do nothing about that. All I can hope is to show them a confident face. Surely they will know soon enough they cannot scare me away?’
‘There are two roses due tonight,’ Susan pointed out. The others began immediately to discuss what was to be done, a babble of voices that Hester realised was due to relief at not having to talk, or think, about her ruined romance.
She shrugged. ‘Let them deliver them. Unless they attach a gunpowder charge to them, what harm will it do?’ At the moment she would almost welcome it. Then pride took over and she straightened her back. She had lived through bereavement, insecurity, scandal and opprobrium-one man and his lack of trust, his failure of love, was not going to defeat her now.
‘It’s the full moon.’ Susan sounded uneasy.
‘Well, if Death stalks the house with a scythe, you will just have to take to him with the poker,’ Hester said, realising that she had almost shocked them by making the feeble joke. ‘I am not such a poor honey as to be cast down by one man,’ she said, trying to convince herself. ‘And we are not going to be terrorised by two greedy people. Now, let us make some toast because I warn you, we are going to have a busy day today and this afternoon I am going to go for a drive.’
‘
‘You think I should skulk inside like a shamed woman? We will make lists, clean the house and plan our entertainment. There are only three days and one of them is Sunday.’
Physical hard work was a therapy, Hester realised as she chivvied Maria and Susan about the house with beeswax polish, long feather dusters and black lead. For minutes at a time she could focus only upon removing every last dull patch from the drawing-room fender or vigorously scrubbing at the window panes with scrunched-up brown paper and vinegar. But then, just when she least expected it, a memory would hit her: the scent of Guy’s skin, the feel of his hair under her seeking fingers, the heat of his mouth on her breast, his words of love, his words of doubt and distrust.
Then the pain lanced through her as though she had been stabbed and she was hard put not to cry out, stopping what she was doing to push her clenched fist hard against her stomach as if to crush the pain out of existence. A strong woman, a woman of resolution and pride, would dismiss him as unworthy of her. ‘But I love him,’ Hester murmured to herself. ‘I love him.’
Over luncheon they made lists, argued about the food and drink they would need and debated whether it would be possible to buy sheet music in Tring or whether a trip on Saturday to Aylesbury would be necessary.
‘Had we better not try the piano?’ Miss Prudhome ventured. ‘I do not think it has been played since we arrived.’
A few minutes later Hester grimaced at the sound and agreed that a piano tuner had best be summoned as soon as may be. ‘Add that to the list for Tring tomorrow,’ she decided. ‘He can come on Monday. Now. I am going for a drive. Jethro, please harness Hector. Who would like to come with me?’
‘I will.’ They all spoke at once and Hester could have hugged them all. How would she be coping if she did not have friends and loyal supporters like this?
‘I will,’ Jethro said firmly. ‘I will bring the gig round to the front, Miss Hester. Mr Parrott may not think I know what is due to your position, but I do.’ He stalked off, looking determined, and Hester went upstairs to change into a walking dress and find her warmest coat, bonnet and muff.
She hesitated over a bonnet with a veil, the one she usually wore to church, then tossed it aside in favour of a frivolous confection in green velvet she had not considered suitable for the country. Guy would probably neither know, nor care, what she looked like, but it was suddenly very important to defy him, his sister, and, in spirit, those judgmental gossips who had dragged her name through the mire in London.
Jethro had drawn the gig up before the front gate and was sitting there in his best greatcoat, cockaded hat gleaming, whip cocked at a stylish angle. When Hester came out he jumped down and helped her up with ceremony before handing her the reins and sitting upright, arms folded and with an expression of great solemnity on his face.
Hester did not know whether to laugh or cry. In Jethro’s mind he was sitting on the box of the most fashionable barouche in Piccadilly and his mistress was the equal of the cream of the
His Adam’s apple bobbed frantically with his efforts to keep some sort of control. When he spoke his voice cracked as though it was breaking all over again. ‘And I love you, Miss Hester, and I want to kill anyone who hurts you.’
‘Please don’t, Jethro, I need you too much to see you hanged. Now, I had better drive on before we both disgrace ourselves on the public highway.’
The air was crisp and frosty and, if one was in the mood, it was a delightful afternoon for a short drive. For Hester it was like stepping into a crowded room wearing a placard reading ‘Fallen Woman’. What if Lady Broome had already spread the news of her disgrace around the neighbourhood? Or perhaps she had not yet made the acquaintance of local society and this was the last time Hester could go out with her reputation intact.
She saw Mrs Bunting being driven in her dog cart by her groom and the two carriages drew up alongside to exchange greetings. The vicar’s wife beamed at her and Hester found she had been holding her breath. ‘Good day, Miss Lattimer! I must tell you that the vicar and I are much looking forward to your evening party on Monday. Such a pleasant way to begin the Christmas festivities.’
‘I’m so glad, ma’am.’ Hester managed to smile and drove on, a new dread forming. What if they all found out before the party and she did not discover it until she found herself with no guests?
