Scandal at Greystone Manor Read online

  ‘Jane?’

  ‘Yes, Jane.’ He went on to apprise his friend of all that had transpired since Jonathan left for Scotland.

  ‘My, you are in a coil,’ his friend said when he finished.

  ‘I have done my best to discredit Bolsover and sorely neglected Isabel in order to help Jane, in the vain hope she would tire of me and call the whole thing off, but she seems not to mind. Jane is not a rival in her mind. If you have any idea how I can come about, I shall be glad to hear it.’

  ‘Short of kidnap and leaving your bride at the altar, you mean.’

  ‘I can’t do that.’

  ‘No, I can see you can’t. You could try throwing yourself on the mercy of Miss Isabel.’

  ‘I thought of that, too, but it will not do. I would be seen as a bigger scoundrel than Bolsover, Isabel could sue for breach of promise and I would never dare show my face in Hadlea again.’ He did not add that, worst of all, Jane would hate him for it and would certainly not agree to marry him. Bolsover would win. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

  ‘Come, let us go back,’ Jonathan said. ‘There are still two weeks to go. Something might turn up.’

  They mounted again and walked their exhausted horses back to the stables, approaching the house from the rear. Mark stopped to look at it, taking in the mellow Tudor bricks, the twisted chimneys, the mullioned windows, the stable block with its ornate clock which hadn’t told the time in years. He loved his home, every inch of it, outside and in. He loved his mother and owed her his allegiance and he had responsibilities in the village. His honour was at stake and that counted for everything. There was no alternative but to go through with the wedding. ‘Jane, forgive me.’ His lips moved on her name, but he made no sound.

  With hunched shoulders and head bowed, he rode on, left his horse with Thompson, ordered the curricle to be readied and entered the house. He neither knew nor cared whether Jonathan followed him. He had to change and find Jane. She must be told and told at once while he still had the courage.

  * * *

  Harry and Tom had disappeared. Jane had no idea where they had gone. Neither Robert nor Emma could tell her anything, except they had been whispering together that morning. She searched every inch of the house before going outside to look in the outhouses and stables. Surely they had not run away? Where would they go? Would they try to go back to Norwich?

  Silas was coming towards her; the old man was almost running in his agitation to impart some news to her. ‘Miss Cavenhurst,’ he said between gasps for breath. ‘Someone’s stole yer trap. I went to tek Bonny some oats and it were gone, Bonny with it.’

  Jane could hardly believe it. Could the boys have taken it? Did they know how to harness Bonny? Could they drive it? The answer was yes, they probably could. They hated to be indoors and, ever since coming to Witherington, had spent most of their time outside, following Silas about. They would have watched him with the pony and seen how the old man harnessed him. He had even taken them on short jaunts to pick up supplies for her. ‘Have you seen Tom and Harry?’ she asked him.

  ‘They were down the garden with me early on, but disappeared after a bit. Don’ know where they went.’

  ‘Do you think they could have taken the trap?’

  ‘Why would they do that, miss?’

  ‘For a lark, perhaps.’

  ‘I dunno. It in’t hard to drive and Bonny is a placid old thing. I s’pose they could.’

  As far as she was aware no one had come to the house that morning, certainly no one who would have reason to go to the stables. It had to be the boys. But where had they gone? And without the trap how could she go after them?

  ‘I am going to fetch help,’ she told him. ‘If they come back, grab them and don’t let them out of your sight.’

  Without even stopping to put on a bonnet, she set off on foot for Broadacres. This was an emergency and she needed Mark’s help. At every step she castigated herself. Whatever had given her the idea she was fit to look after children, especially children damaged by the life they had been forced to lead? She had been a conceited fool to think urchins living as they had been doing on city streets would settle down to a placid life in the country. She ought to have taken on a teacher to give them something positive to do instead of waiting until she had a full class. If her negligence became common knowledge, the gossip alone would ensure she did not take in any more children.

  She was almost running, stumbling in her haste. What would Mark say? What would anyone say? She had been too wrapped up in her own misery to look after the children properly, that’s what. ‘Let him be at home,’ she prayed.

  She struck out across the fields to cut off a corner and sped across Broadacres park towards the side of the house. Jeremy was in the yard, harnessing the curricle. Almost too out of breath to speak, she stopped in front of him.

  ‘Miss Cavenhurst, whatever’s afoot?’

  ‘Fetch Lord Wyndham, please, it’s urgent.’

  The man disappeared while she stood with her hand at her aching side, slowly recovering her breath. Mark joined her almost at once. ‘Tom and Harry have run away and they have taken Bonny and the trap. We’ve got to find them.’

  He was admirably calm as he helped her into the curricle, climbed up beside her and set the horses off at a fast trot. ‘I don’t know what possessed them to do it,’ she said. ‘They have never given the slightest hint they were unhappy.’

  ‘All boys like mischief,’ he said. ‘I doubt they will have gone far. We’ll go back to Witherington House first. They might have returned.’

  At the crossroads he was forced to slow down. There was a flurry of activity at the Fox and Hounds as a stage coach turned in to change horses, set down passengers and take others up. The inn’s gig was standing by, ready to take incomers to their final destination. As soon as the road was clear he drove on and turned on to the lane to Witherington.

  ‘I am so thankful you were at home.’

  ‘We’ll find them, stop worrying.’

  ‘I cannot help it. It is all my fault. I should have taken more care of them. I should have taken on that teacher we spoke of. I shall never forgive myself if anything bad has happened to them. They could have overturned in a ditch and be lying there, unable to move. They could even be...’ She could not say it.

  ‘Jane, stop it, stop it at once. You are not to blame and they are how old?’

  ‘Harry is ten and Tom is nine.’

  ‘I was driving a gig all over the estate at that age. They are old for their years, Jane. Do not think of them as children, they are very small, very wily adults, used to fending for themselves.’

  She managed a smile. ‘Let us hope you are right.’

  * * *

  They were almost at Witherington House when they saw the trap turn out of a narrow lane in front of them. The boys were in it, but it was being driven by a man. ‘Don’t call out,’ Mark said as he pulled in a little way behind them, matching his horse’s gait to that of Bonny. ‘We do not want to frighten the fellow into galloping. When they leave the lane for the high road, I’ll look for an opportunity to overtake and stop them. I can’t do it here, the road is too narrow.’

  But they didn’t take the high road, the trap turned into the gates of Witherington House and continued up the drive, closely followed by the curricle. As soon as both came to a stop, Jane scrambled out and ran to the boys, intending to confront the man. He jumped down and bowed to her. ‘Senhora, I believe these belong to you.’

  ‘Mr Estaban!’ she exclaimed.

  Mark was beside her. ‘You know this man, Jane?’

  ‘Yes, he came to me for a job.’

  Everyone started to talk at once—Jane expressing her gratitude, the boys excitedly telling of their adventures and Mark accusing the man of abducting the children and stealing the pony and trap.


  ‘I beg your pardon, senhor,’ Paolo said. ‘I deny that. I found the young gentlemen trying to turn the vehicle in a field gate. A wheel had become stuck against the gate post. I recognised the pony and helped them to free it, then persuaded them to allow me to bring them back.’

  ‘Is that the truth?’ Mark asked Harry.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, shame-faced. ‘We only wanted to try driving.’

  ‘Then you had all better come inside and tell us about it,’ Mark said, ushering them through the kitchen door.

  ‘Here they are,’ Jane told Mrs Godfrey and Mrs Butler, who were sitting at the kitchen table discussing the situation. ‘Safe and sound. I am sure they are hungry and thirsty, so could you find us all something to eat and drink and bring it to the little parlour?’ The room, which had once been old Sir Jasper’s bedroom, had been thoroughly cleaned and was now a comfortable sitting room, which Jane liked to think of as her office.

  * * *

  It did not take long to establish the truth of what Mr Estaban had said and to hear the boys’ account of their adventure. They had intended to go the nearest town just to look round, they said, but realised they had taken a wrong turn when the road ended in a vast expanse of water. In trying to turn round they had become stuck. The gentleman had helped them out.

  ‘I explained to them the worry they would cause you,’ Mr Estaban said. ‘You are a woman alone in a household of women with only one elderly male servant. It is not good. You need a man.’

  Jane looked at Mark and felt the colour flood her cheeks.

  ‘Mr Estaban is right, you know,’ he said. ‘You do need a man.’

  ‘But you come when you can.’

  ‘Not often enough, I am afraid. There should be someone here all the time. Mr Estaban, I believe you applied for employment here? Do you still wish it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Tell me about yourself.’

  ‘This is Lord Wyndham,’ Jane explained. ‘He is one of the Hadlea Children’s Home trustees.’

  Paolo told Mark the same story as he had told Jane. ‘I can manage horses and I can manage children,’ he ended.

  ‘I thought of buying the pony and trap for the Home,’ Jane put in. ‘I think I am going to need it.’

  ‘Good idea. I’ll make an offer to Sir Edward on behalf of the trustees.’ He turned back to Estaban. ‘Where are you staying?’

  ‘At an inn along the Lynn road.’

  ‘Go and fetch your things. You can start straight away. And you boys, take these empty plates back to the kitchen and stay there until I decide what punishment to give you. You can start by grooming Bonny and my horse.’

  They obeyed and Mark and Jane were alone. He shifted to sit beside her and put his hand over hers. ‘Stop shaking, Jane, my love, it is all over. They are safe and Mr Estaban will be an asset, I am sure.’

  ‘He cannot take your place.’

  ‘I should hope not!’

  It was an attempt at humour and she dutifully smiled. ‘What have you been doing lately?’

  ‘This and that. Asking questions, groping for a miracle.’

  ‘Miracles almost never happen. We would be unwise to put our trust in miracles.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know...’ He could not go on. She had had enough upset for one day and he could not add to it. ‘Would you like me to take you home?’

  ‘No, thank you. The trap is here and I ought to wait for Mr Estaban to come back. Besides, I spend little time at Greystone these days. Lord Bolsover is always there, gloating.’

  ‘Don’t marry him, Jane, please don’t. I could not bear it.’

  ‘Mark, it is not up to you. You will be married to Isabel. And there are some who think I will be doing well for myself, finding a wealthy husband at my age and one with a title, too. I know many of the villagers think so.’

  ‘Surely you don’t.’

  ‘It is something I have to bear in mind.’

  ‘I do not believe it.’

  She sighed. ‘There is no point in going over the same ground again, it will not alter anything. Go home, Mark, please.’

  Reluctantly he left her. Like an automaton he climbed into the curricle and picked up the reins. How, when he was married to Isabel, could he endure having Jane so close and yet so far out of his reach? Was she determined to accept Bolsover? He felt nothing but fury towards Sir Edward Cavenhurst and all his clan for bringing her to this pass. He felt fury at Drew, apparently ignoring his letter, probably because Isabel no longer stood high in his affections and he did not want to meet her again. Most of all he was furious with himself for his powerlessness.

  * * *

  The stage had gone from the Fox and Hounds and all was quiet as he turned the corner and set off for Greystone Manor. What he intended to say to everyone when he arrived, he had no idea, but he would burst if he did not tell them how he felt. He hoped it would make Isabel think again. He hardly heard the horse until it was almost on top of him.

  ‘Mark! Hold up! Stop, will you?’

  He turned to see Jonathan galloping after him and pulled the horse to a halt. ‘How did you know where I was going?’

  ‘Jeremy told me. Come back to Broadacres, Mark. Drew is there.’

  ‘Drew?’

  ‘Yes. He was all for rushing off to Greystone Manor as soon as he arrived, but I persuaded him he ought to talk to you first. It is as well I spotted you or I would have gone on to Witherington and missed you.’

  Mark turned the curricle in a farm gate and was soon bowling back to Broadacres with Jonathan riding beside him. As soon as he arrived he sped indoors, leaving his friend to see to the horses. Drew was in the drawing room, enjoying hot chocolate and cake with his mother.

  ‘Drew, where have you been?’ he demanded.

  ‘Mark, that is hardly a proper greeting,’ his mother said. ‘Sit down and have something to eat and drink. I am sure you went out without breakfast this morning.’

  He sat down and watched his mother pour him a dish of chocolate. He took it from her, but declined food. He was too tense to eat. He turned to Drew. ‘Did you receive my letter?’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘I could hardly believe what I was reading. Of course I left immediately.’

  ‘But that was weeks ago.’

  ‘Yes, hear me out, will you?’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘When I consulted the timetables, it seemed easier to go to London and then out again to Norfolk and that is what I did. On the way I fell to thinking about what you had said in your letter and it seemed to me there was something havey-cavey about Hector Bolsover, something he would rather we did not know. Where did all his wealth come from when his estate is a modest one? Could it all have been acquired from gambling? Did he cheat on a grand scale? Why would he want to live in a rural place like Hadlea when he so obviously enjoyed the attractions of the city? He does not strike me as a man who would be particularly sensitive to past family history. Was he just using it as an excuse?’

  ‘I thought of all that,’ Mark put in. ‘I went to London myself and made extensive enquiries of anyone who might have known him. All I could gather was that he had never served in the army though he had spent time in the Peninsula and that on his return his mother had given him an ultimatum to marry. It appears, whatever else he is, he is an obedient son.’

  ‘Yes. He was born when his mother had given up all hope of having a child. His father died when he was a boy and he has looked to his mother for everything. Her word is law.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘I decided to find out what I could before I came on to Hadlea and started with Toby Moore. When I spoke to him before, I felt he was hiding something.’

  ‘I looked for him myself but he was out of town. No one knew whe
re.’

  ‘He was back. No doubt he had run out of generous hosts. I decided to put the fear of God into him.’ He smiled. ‘He is not a valiant man, Mark.’

  ‘No. Wellington had him drummed out for cowardice. He was lucky not to be shot.’

  ‘It was at that time he met Bolsover, who was living in Lisbon. They teamed up to gamble, not always honestly. Bolsover was married to a Portuguese girl, the daughter of a wealthy count. She inherited a vast fortune on her father’s demise and he was busy spending it. When it looked as though the authorities were catching up with them over their sharp practices, he and Toby fled the country and came back to England.’

  ‘What happened to his wife?’

  ‘I’m coming to that. You remember I said I was buying a ship? Well, I had one, a beautiful fast clipper, called the Swallow, and it was readying for a voyage to India. I sailed on her as far as Lisbon and found Lady Bolsover. He had beaten her to within an inch of her life and she had fled to her aunt and uncle and, as you can imagine, they are bent on revenge. They sent their son, Juanita’s cousin, to England to track him down, but they have not heard from him for some time. I think Bolsover got wind of it and wanted somewhere to hide. Sir Edward’s debts and the old family story of Colin Paget gave him the idea.’

  ‘He’s married,’ Mark said, unable to keep the excitement from his voice. ‘He’s married already! He can’t marry Jane.’ He jumped up and wrung his friend’s hand. ‘Thank you, Drew, thank you.’

  ‘What about Isabel?’ Lady Wyndham put in. She had been listening intently, but had taken no part in the conversation. ‘And there’s Sir Edward’s debts. You have solved only half the problem.’

  Mark turned to Drew. ‘What about Isabel?’

  ‘I intend to go over to Greystone Manor just as soon as I have had a rest. I only returned to England yesterday and am devilish tired. My lady, if you could furnish me with a bed for an hour or two, I would be grateful. I need to be fresh and have my wits about me if I am to persuade Sir Edward to entertain my suit. If it takes money, then money he shall have. I have already told the skipper of the Swallow to find Teddy when he arrives in Calcutta and bring him home. That should sweeten Sir Edward up a bit, but, if not Sir Edward, then his lady wife.’