An Ideal Companion. ANNE ASHLEY

it had to be said this particular visitor seemed in no great hurry to leave. ‘If there’s nothing particular I can help you with, Mrs Adams, I must go down to the stables to ensure our groom has these before he sets forth.’

      ‘Oh, Julia, please.’ She spread her hands in a helpless gesture. ‘This has disturbed me more than I can say. And it is somewhat foolish of me as I never met Lady Lindley before yesterday! And unforgivable, too,’ she added, ‘because I came, specifically, to see if there’s anything I can do to help. I feel so guilty leaving you with all this to deal with. You only have to say the word and I shall be more than happy to remain for a few days.’

      Ruth felt moved by the offer, because she didn’t doubt it had been sincerely meant. ‘That is most kind of you, but I’m sure you must be longing to return to your daughter. Lady Beatrice was no blood kin of mine, though naturally I’m saddened by her unexpected demise. The servants here at the Hall are all very loyal and shall provide all the assistance I need, I feel sure.’

      ‘Well, at least allow me to take those letters down to your groom. My bags are packed and I believe everyone is keen to leave as early as possible, so I’ll take this opportunity to bid you farewell, Miss Harrington. I intend leaving my direction with Colonel Prentiss. London might seem a long way away. But should you feel the need to make contact with me in the future, I should be only too happy to assist in any way I can.’

      * * *

      Thankfully, this sentiment had eventually been echoed by everyone, and an hour later, armed with the necessary information he required, Hugo was making the final preparations for his own departure.

      After securing his overnight bags to the packhorse himself, he was on the point of mounting his sturdy bay, when he caught sight of a slender figure emerging from the kitchen doorway.

      Dressed respectfully now in sombre black and with her hair appropriately confined at the nape of her neck, she glided across the cobbled yard towards him. As she drew close he could see there was little colour in what otherwise would have been a flawless complexion. Thankfully, apart from the unusual pallor, there were no other telltale signs of grief. The large brown eyes were bright and free from any suggestion of redness, and the perfect contours of a lovely feminine mouth were even curled in a semblance of a smile.

      ‘I’m glad I’ve managed to catch you, Colonel, before you leave,’ she said, while handing him a folded sheet of paper. ‘I’ve written down Sir Cedric Walsh’s precise direction for you, though his house isn’t at all difficult to locate. Simply stay on the main coastal road and you’ll see it, standing by itself on a slight rise. Julia Adams informed me that you asked for everyone’s direction,’ she added, when he made no attempt to speak.

      He continued not to do so for a further moment or two while he studied the openness of a sweet face; a face that for all the world betrayed only two things to his searching gaze—trust and honesty.

      Not for the first time during his short stay did he experience something deep within him stir, only this time it seemed stronger, reminding him of a feeling he had not experienced in many a long year.

      ‘Believe me when I tell you I’m more than willing to remain if you imagine I might be of service to you, Miss Harrington, should the local Justice of the Peace consider a further investigation into the death of Lady Beatrice is required.’

      For a moment he thought he detected a glint of what might have been hopeful expectation in those lovely eyes, only for it to disappear a moment later as a distinctly wry smile this time touched her lips.

      ‘That is kind of you, sir,’ she uttered softly in a kind of resigned sigh. ‘But you must be longing to return to the comfort of your own home...and family. Should Sir Cedric choose to bestir himself and look into the matter of Lady Beatrice’s death, though I’m not altogether certain he will given his reputation for indolence, then I’m sure Dr Maddox and Lady Beatrice’s lawyer will offer me all the assistance I require.’ She held out her hand. ‘Goodbye, sir. It has been a sincere pleasure making your acquaintance, and...and safe journey.’

      Releasing the slender fingers the moment he felt the first sign of withdrawal, Hugo then watched her until she had disappeared into the house. Not once did she attempt to look back over her shoulder, but as he reached the front gate and chanced to glance back over his, he saw that slender form staring out at him from the drawing-room window.

      Unwillingly urging his mount onwards, he headed down the lane that led to the market town. Throughout his adult life he had been a man given to decisive action, someone continually admired for his clarity of thought and discernment, yet he felt anything but resolute now. Torn between a strong sense of righteousness and a surprising feeling of protectiveness towards a female he scarcely knew his thoughts were in turmoil.

      Plagued by such drastically contrasting feelings, he rode on in stony silence until he had reached a pair of impressive wrought-iron gates, flanked by two hideous gargoyles mounted on tall, brick pillars. Beyond stood an impressive stone-built mansion, undoubtedly the property of Sir Cedric Walsh. Hugo was only too aware of what he ought to do, what was demanded of any man of honour. Yet he made no attempt to gain access to the sweeping driveway. Instead, he took out several folded sheets of paper from his pocket and stared at them with an expression of intense loathing.

      ‘Is something amiss, Colonel?’ his manservant asked tentatively, wondering if he had done something to put his master into such an obviously unsociable mood. Raising a hand, he thoughtfully scratched the grizzled hair beneath the edge of his misshapen hat. ‘Not done something wrong, ’ave I, sir?’

      ‘No...but I’m about to do just that,’ Hugo announced, before resolutely thrusting the several sheets of paper back into his pocket, and urging his mount to move off down the road once more. ‘Come on, Ben. Let’s away from here. How I wish I’d never come to this place... And the sooner I forget I ever did the better for my peace of mind!’

      * * *

      Ruth gazed out of the drawing-room window, experiencing a distinct feeling of pleasure at the clear signs of spring to be seen everywhere. Although not particularly hard, the winter had seemed interminably long, starting as it had on that never-to-be-forgotten day at the beginning of October. On numerous occasions in recent months she had recalled that particular day. Not only had it brought into her life, for a brief period, one of the most personable gentlemen she’d ever encountered, but it had also been, of course, the prelude to a drastic change in her lifestyle and personal circumstances.

      As a mark of respect for her late benefactress, Ruth had continued to observe strict mourning for very many weeks, only recently donning more cheerful hues, though still avoiding anything that might be considered unbecomingly bright.

      Although she had avoided socialising on a vast scale, she had been determined not to live like a virtual hermit, as the previous owner of Dunsterford Hall had done. She had made several new friends and acquaintances in recent months and, as a consequence, the house saw many more visitors crossing its portals. One frequent visitor was the late Lady Beatrice Lindley’s man of business. He had worked tirelessly on Ruth’s behalf, most especially during those early weeks, when Lady Beatrice’s two sisters had attempted to contest the will. They had been unsuccessful and now Dunsterford Hall was legally hers to do with as she chose.