Lavender Lady Read online

  “Oh, Hester, I am very sorry. It is not your teaching that is at fault. I daresay my aunt will not invite me anyway. I do not think she remembers our existence.”

  “We do very well without her,” growled Jamie. “She did not offer to help when Papa died, not even when we had to sell Hilltop Manor.”

  “Lady Bardry is not particularly well-to-do, and I don’t expect any help in that direction, James. However, if I pay all expenses, I can see no reason why she should not introduce Alice to the Fashionable World and give her a proper season. She moves in the highest circles, as Papa did, you know. I was not going to tell you, lest nothing should come of it, but I have written to her suggesting just such an arrangement.”

  “The expense must come out of the estate, Hester,” protested Jamie hotly. “It is outside of enough that your fortune provides the greater part of our living. I cannot let you pay for Alice’s come-out.”

  Grandfather Stevens took an unexpected hand in the discussion. “When I settled twenty thousand pounds on Hester at her birth,” he declared pedantically, “I niver thought her papa would get through my Muriel's dowry so fast, nor that Hester’d be taking on the bringing up o’ you lot. But being as how she’s done it, I taught her how to reckon, and she’ve got it all figured out jist fine, and all ye’ve to do is what she says.”

  So fiercely did the old man pronounce this last that all James could do was stammer meekly, “Yes, sir, of course we will.”

  Once again, Hester thought it prudent to change the subject, though she could see that all the children were bursting with questions.

  “Grandfather,” she said pacifically, “I believe Alice finished your new shirt today. I shall iron it in the morning, and you’ll have it by noon.”

  “May I press it, please?” begged Susan. “I have been practising on Robbie’s shirts, and indeed I think I can do it well enough even for Grandpapa.”

  “To be sure, you may. It will be a great help to me if you can do a good job. No one could ask for a more helpful family,” said Hester, looking round the table with a contented sigh. “Susan and Rob, if you please, clear the dishes for Ivy. I must go up and see how Mr. Fairfax does. I will join you all later.”

  “I’d like a word wi’ ye, child, afore ye goes up,” requested Mr. Stevens.

  “Come into the study, Grandpapa.” Hester led the way into the tiny back room where she kept her papers. “I must thank you for saving me from an argument with Jamie. The dear boy feels it sadly that he cannot provide for his brothers and sisters. I wish you would allow me to tell him how much help you give us. I am sure he suspects that we could not manage on my fortune alone.”

  “Nay, lass, let be. I’ve enough for me needs and a bit over, I thank God. And I owe their mother summat that she brought you up a lady. ‘Tis not every stepmama’d’ve done it.”

  “She was always very kind to me, and Papa was the dearest man, only not practical. I still regret that Hilltop Manor had to be sold, though I believe Geoffrey feels the loss more than James. However, enough of repining. What did you wish to say to me, Grandpapa?”

  “Think ye this clutch-fisted aunt o’ theirn will take Alice?”

  “I tried to word my letter in such a way that she will find it difficult to refuse,” replied Hester dryly. “The family never actually broke off all correspondence, you know, in spite of their disapproval of the ‘shopkeeper and his brat.’”

  “If that’s what they call us, I suppose there’s no chance as Lady Bardry’d take you into Society along o’ Alice.” The old man sighed heavily as he abandoned his last hope of seeing his granddaughter well established.

  “Oh no, Grandfather, I’d not expect such condescension, nor want it. Whatever would the children do if I were to start gadding about to grand parties? Come, do not fall into the mopes. I’ve no pretensions to beauty and never desired to buy a husband with my fortune, so I’m happy to be able to use it for the good of the dear children. Such plans as I have for them!”

  In all Hester’s plans, there was no room for thoughts of marriage for herself. Used to regarding herself as a nondescript dab of a girl, she was oblivious to the improvements in her appearance wrought by maturity. She was aware that, in spite of her mother’s birth, a dowry of twenty thousand pounds might have brought her eligible suitors a-plenty. However, by the time Susan was of an age to be wed and Robbie to become a midshipman, her fortune would be much diminished, and at twenty-eight or -nine she would be firmly on the shelf. By that time, she had decided a little sadly, she would be so used to ruling the roost that doubtless the idea of submitting to a husband would be abhorrent to her anyway. She had every expectation of dwindling into a maiden aunt.

  Busy from dawn to dusk—running the household, cooking, teaching the children—she had no time for regrets. Her slight figure belied a resilient strength, and, serene in the knowledge that she was doing her best, she seldom lost the gentle assurance that guided her family through good times and bad.

  Now she kissed her grandfather goodnight and watched him trudge through the twilight garden to his cosy cottage. On the threshold he turned to wave to her, and she waved back. Then she went upstairs to see to her patient.

  Mr. Fairfax was still sleeping, though far from peacefully. He moved restlessly as if trying to find a comfortable position, prevented by his leg. Hester laid a hand on the small area of his forehead that was not obscured by the bandage; he seemed somewhat feverish. She fetched lavender water and began bathing his brow. He soon grew still. The moaning and muttering ceased, and after a minute or two his eyes opened. They had a glazed look, which she attributed to the drug he had taken, and he seemed unable to focus on her face.

  “Dreaming,” he mumbled. “No more lau . . . lau’num.” Then clearly: “Lavender lady!”

  His eyes closed, and he seemed to sleep again. Now he lay peacefully, Hester was relieved to note. There was a slight smile on his face. Suspecting he had been having nightmares before, she wondered what he was dreaming of now and resolved to give him no more medicine without first consulting Dr. Price. She knew some people had unpleasant reactions to laudanum.

  She sat by his bedside for another half hour. He continued to sleep quietly, so she lit a fresh candle, took hers, and went to join her family.

  Chapter 2

  Hester awoke in the middle of the night. The evening had been so warm that she had left her curtains open, and a huge harvest moon was floating in the midnight sky, looking near enough to pluck like a ripe apple, bathing woods and meadows in its glow. An errant ray had fallen across her face and roused her.

  Since she did not feel drowsy, Hester decided to check on Mr. Fairfax. She put a wrap around her shoulders and slipped along the hallway, carefully avoiding the board that always creaked.

  Mr. Fairfax was awake, and by the light of the guttering candle she could see that he was alert. There was no sign of fever or drug haze in the smiling face he turned toward her.

  “Let me light a new candle,” she proposed. “It must be later than I thought if this one is nearly done.”

  “I hope you did not rise solely for my sake. I shall do very well until morning.”

  “How is your leg, sir?”

  “It hurts like the devil,” he answered frankly, “but no more of that medicine, I beg of you. I had rather suffer the pain than the nightmares. Though, to tell the truth, I am rather sharp-set by pangs of hunger than by my injuries. I missed my dinner last night. Of course your cook must be abed, but do you suppose you might find me a piece of bread to keep me alive until breakfast?”

  “I am the cook,” said Hester, flushing a little as he raised his eyebrows. “You see, we have but one maidservant and I had rather cook than clean,” she added hurriedly, then wondered whether that made it worse. Annoyed with herself for a sensitivity she did not normally feel, she spoke in an abrupt tone. “I can get you bread and cold meat, or perhaps an omelette.”

  Mr. Fairfax unexpectedly seized her hand and kissed it before she could p
ull it away.

  “I have offended you!” he exclaimed in mock despair. “And I am entirely at your mercy.” Still holding her hand, he studied it. “I was under the impression that cooks had huge, rough, red hands, and yours are small and soft and white.” He raised his eyebrows again, in enquiry this time.

  “One of the things I make in my kitchen is a lotion for the skin,” explained Hester, and added, with candour, “Besides, Ivy washes the dishes. Come, give me back my incongruous hand and I will make you an omelette.”

  “Bread and meat will be more than adequate, Miss Godric,” he said meekly, but with a teasing twinkle in his eye. She wondered if he knew how charming he was, but suspected that he was quite aware of it.

  “You’ll eat what you’re given,” she told him tartly, and departed.

  While she was gone, Lord Alton lay and thought about her. Her speech was that of a lady, yet the little information he had gleaned from their brief conversations placed her firmly in the lower middle class. A gentlewoman come down in the world, perhaps. No matter. Her reactions were delightfully unexpected, and he decided it might be amusing to further his acquaintance with her while he was confined to his bed. He would need amusement, he suspected, shifting painfully.

  At this point in his musings, she reentered the room, bearing a tray from which arose mouth-watering aromas. She smiled at him as she set it down. The familiar actions involved in producing a meal had completely restored her composure. She had no reason to be concerned for his opinion of her. He was simply another chick to be taken under her wing until he could fly by himself. It was seven years since her stepmother had succumbed to a putrid sore throat, and mothering was the role that came easiest to her by now.

  “I have made you a ham omelette,” she announced as she helped him sit up and propped pillows behind his back. “A Hamlet, as Robbie still calls it. I trust it has not suffered on its journey from the kitchen. I thought you had best eat something light, as you will be lying down again soon.”

  The Hamlet, he found, was accompanied by a large slice of apple pie and a tankard of ale. Suddenly thirsty, he took a long drink.

  ‘Home-brewed,” he commented, “and excellent. Surely you do not . . .”

  “Oh no, that is Brakspear’s. We do not consume much ale. Jamie likes it occasionally, and Geoff after he has been digging. I prefer cider myself.”

  “I dare swear you know how to brew, though.”

  “It is not at all difficult. My father used always to have ale made at the manor.”

  “An omelette is difficult, however. I have rarely tasted such a light and flavourful one. My compliments, Miss Godric. Do you keep hens and pigs?”

  “I am sorry to disappoint you. Geoffrey would like to do so, but our space is limited, and I confess to a strong dislike of the inevitable odours and noise.

  “You do disappoint me. Now you will tell me that you do not make all the family’s clothes and teach Jamie his Latin into the bargain.”

  “Alice is our seamstress, and an excellent one. I have as little taste for stitchery as for hog-keeping, I fear. Nor do I profess to know any Latin, though I do teach the girls and Rob. Indeed, I have no elegant accomplishments, for though I was studying music and sketching, since my stepmother died I have had no time for such things.”

  “You mentioned your father . . .”

  “Ralph Godric, Esquire, of Hilltop Manor, Henley-on-Thames, in the County of Oxford,” she quoted at him.

  “I believe I must have met him, in town. Was he not married to a Hawthorpe?”

  “Yes, Alicia, my stepmother. Do you know the family?”

  “My sister is acquainted with Henrietta Bardry, I believe,” he replied cautiously.

  “So you do have a family, then! I was beginning to think you had none since you did not mention anyone. Surely I had better notify your sister of your whereabouts before she begins to worry?”

  “Ariadne is not in the least likely to wonder where I am. She is a good deal older than I, and we avoid each other as much as possible. I can think of no one who need be informed.” Ruthlessly, he dismissed from his mind an entire household of servants who would doubtless be frantically wondering what had become of their master. It would not be the first time he had disappeared for a couple of weeks without notice, so let them think he was off enjoying himself with some high-flying bit of muslin.

  Hester was looking distressed.

  “She is your only relative? What an unhappy position to be in!”

  Lord Alton’s hopeful heir, a quartet of other nephews and nieces, and a variety of more distant relations followed his servants into limbo as he basked in Hester’s sympathy.

  “Yes,” he said mournfully, “like you I am an orphan. I am alone in the world.”

  To his surprise, she laughed.

  “As I am not,” she pointed out. “And judging by the cheerful tone in which you spoke of your estrangement from your sister, you are by no means distressed by your solitary situation. At any rate, for the next few weeks you will have family a-plenty, unless you mean to bar the door or to remove to the White Hart or the Bull. The children are bursting with curiosity, and I am sure I cannot guarantee your peace and quiet. I beg you will tell them to leave when they try your patience.”

  “It will be a novel experience,” he assured her sincerely. “I have never dealt with children in my life.”

  “As to that, only Rob and Susan are really children. The older three are shockingly offended if I refer to them in that way.”

  “I will remember,” he promised. “I look forward to meeting them.”

  The conversation was distracting his attention from the pain in his leg, but he bethought himself that while he would spend the morrow enjoying his enforced leisure, his nurse would doubtless have numerous tasks to accomplish.

  “Had you not better retire, Miss Godric?” he suggested with the consideration that was part of his charm. “I am sure you have a busy day ahead of you.”

  “Perhaps I should. Shall you sleep, do you think?” Testing for fever, she laid her cool hand, quite unselfconsciously, on his forehead. He realised that she had, with an equal lack of embarrassment, spent half an hour in a man’s bedchamber in the middle of the night, and in her nightgown.

  “No fever,” Hester announced. “Are you sure you will not take a little more medicine? I own I think it best that you should not, but I can see that your leg is very painful.”

  “And I thought I was bravely concealing my agony! No more laudanum, I thank you. If you can spare me another candle, I shall occupy myself with one of Jamie’s less abstruse tomes. Or has he none?”

  “He does run to philosophy and logic. However, I have some volumes of travellers’ tales that might amuse you. I’ll not offer you Alice’s romantic novels!”

  Hester took the tray and left. She returned presently with a bundle of candles and another of books.

  “Do you not wish to lie down?” she asked, as she placed them near him.

  “Should I decide to do so, I am sure I can manage if you do not object to having your pillows thrown upon the floor. I am very wakeful at present. Thank you, Miss Godric, for your books, your cooking, and your company.”

  “You must ring the bell if you need me. I shall hear, and it is not likely to rouse the others. I hope you will get some sleep, Mr. Fairfax.”

  “Goodnight, and happy dreams.”

  She went out and pulled the door to, then popped her head round it.

  “Oh, I do have one elegant accomplishment,” she said mischievously. “I speak French. Bonne nuit, monsieur, et dormez bien!”

  Much to his surprise, Mr. Fairfax did fall asleep before dawn, and did not awake until near midday. When he opened his eyes, he found himself being subjected to a severe scrutiny by a large and regal grey-and-white cat, which was seated on his windowsill.

  “Good morning,” said Mr. Fairfax, after a few moments of mutual inspection. “I don't believe I have your name?”

  The cat merely b
linked its great yellow eyes, but from the corridor outside the chamber came a double thud, the sound of running footsteps, and a youthful voice crying:

  “Hester, Hester, he’s awake! Hester, Mr. Fairfax is awake! I heard him talking. Jamie, can I help you get your books? Hester, can I . . . ?” The sound died away.

  Hester was alarmed to hear that her patient had apparently been talking to himself. He had seemed quite compos mentis in the night, but maybe he had relapsed and was delirious. Shushing Robbie and hurrying up the stairs, she knocked on his door.

  “Come in,” said a cheerful voice.

  The first thing she saw on entering was the cat, which was now washing himself in a dignified. way.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed in relief, “you were talking to Gumby. When Robbie told me he heard you speak, I was afraid you were wandering.”

  “My wits may wander, but I’ll not go far with this leg,” grimaced Mr. Fairfax. “Good morning, Miss Godric.”

  “Good morning, sir. Is your leg very bad?”

  “In general it has subsided to a mere throbbing ache. However, when I try to move it is . . . considerably more painful, shall we say.”

  “And your head?”

  “Truth to tell, I had forgot it,” he admitted, raising his hand to touch the bandages. “It is a little tender, but I have no headache.”

  “Good. In spite of the appalling amount of blood, I did not think it a serious injury.”

  “And did you not swoon at the sight of the bleeding corpse at your door?”

  “I should not be of much use to the children if I were such a ninnyhammer,” answered Hester, amused. “Robbie is forever falling off things, and only last month Geoff stepped on a rake in the garden. That was far worse than a mere cut forehead.”

  “Spare me the gory details,” shuddered Mr. Fairfax. “You are a remarkable woman, Miss Godric.”