Marianne And The Marquis. Anne Herries

the steep path, unless you know it well.’

      ‘I shall remember,’ Marianne said and thanked her. ‘But I have not asked how you are. Your letter said that you have been ill?’

      ‘Oh, I had a chill and it left me feeling low,’ Lady Edgeworthy said. ‘You must not think me an invalid. I still entertain now and then, and occasionally I visit friends, though most of them are kind enough to call on me these days.’

      ‘You gave up the London house, I think?’

      ‘I have lent it to a distant cousin of my late husband’s,’ Lady Edgeworthy said with a slight frown. ‘You know that I have no children of my own, Marianne. My son died in infancy and I was not blessed with a daughter. Had I had grandchildren, I should have kept it free for them, but as it is…I have no use for it. I do not care to racket about town myself, and Joshua asked if he might rent it from me. I told him that he may use it for as long as he wishes, though he says that in time he intends to settle down in the country.’

      ‘I do not believe I have met your husband’s cousin?’

      ‘Joshua Hambleton,’ Lady Edgeworthy said and looked thoughtful. ‘In truth I do not know him well, for he had never visited me until a little under a year ago. He is a very quiet, unassuming man, Marianne. He comes down regularly now, and he stays with me then, but his visits are normally no longer than a few days. I dare say you may meet him while you are residing with me.’

      ‘I shall look forward to it,’ Marianne said and looked round as the door opened and a lady came in. She was neither young nor old, but in her middle years; tall and slender, she had light brown hair and eyes. She was dressed plainly, but Marianne thought that she might have looked more attractive if she had dressed her hair in a softer style. She stood up and went forward to greet her great-aunt’s companion. ‘How are you, Miss Trevor?’

      ‘I am very well, Miss Horne. It will be nice for Lady Edgeworthy having you to stay. I think sometimes we are too quiet here and she feels the lack of company.’

      ‘You do yourself no justice, Jane,’ Lady Edgeworthy told her with a slight frown. ‘I am content with your company most of the time—but I have been wanting to see my great-niece for ages. I believe you were no more than fifteen when I last visited your home, Marianne?’

      ‘The same age as Lucy is now,’ Marianne told her. ‘She is so pretty, Aunt. Jo made her a redingote of blue velvet just before I left home, and it suited her so well. We trimmed her best bonnet with matching ribbons and a bunch of blue forget-me-nots.’

      ‘How charming,’ Jane Trevor said, taking her seat. ‘It must be nice to have sisters to share one’s pleasures with, Miss Horne. I had a brother, but I have not seen him since he ran away to sea as a boy.’

      ‘Mama and Papa longed for a boy, but instead they had three girls to plague them,’ Marianne said and laughed, because it always made her happy to think of her family. ‘Jo wishes she were a boy, but I’m afraid that she must be bound by the rules of society as we all are. If she had been the son Papa wanted, I think she might have been a lawyer or a surgeon for she is very clever.’

      ‘Ah, yes, that reminds me,’ Lady Edgeworthy said and looked at her companion. ‘I must ask Doctor Thompson for some more of that peppermint cordial he so kindly made up for me. It certainly helps my digestion.’

      ‘I shall make a note of it and ask him when he calls on Friday.’

      ‘I thought you were better now?’ Marianne asked.

      ‘Oh, Doctor Thompson comes to tea each Friday,’ Lady Edgeworthy told her placidly. She glanced at her companion. ‘We have known each other many years, and he is a pleasant gentleman—is he not, Jane?’

      ‘Oh…yes, I suppose so,’ Miss Trevor said and blushed. ‘He was very good to you when you were ill this spring, and I think his remedies have helped you considerably.’

      ‘Yes, well, I dare say they have,’ Lady Edgeworthy said and sighed. ‘I do not feel quite as I ought…’ She shook her head and looked at Marianne. ‘But I am sure I shall improve now that you have come to stay, my dear.’

      ‘I do hope so,’ Marianne said, though privately she thought that perhaps loneliness rather than illness had caused her great-aunt’s low spirits. She had retired to this isolated estate in Cornwall, cutting herself off from many of her friends and acquaintances, which was a little sad. In London, she might still have gone into company had she wished.

      ‘Take Marianne upstairs, Jane,’ Lady Edgeworthy said. ‘We should all change for dinner soon, though it will be just the three of us this evening—but that is no excuse for lowering standards, is it?’

      ‘No, indeed,’ Marianne agreed. She stood up and accompanied the companion from the room, glancing at her curiously once they had left the pretty parlour where her great-aunt still sat. ‘Was Lady Edgeworthy very ill?’

      ‘It was a nasty chill,’ Jane Trevor said and looked thoughtful. ‘I think she is much better in herself, but she has not recovered her spirits. I do not know why. She thinks a lot of her life as it was years ago and it makes her unhappy.’

      ‘Does she not go out in company?’

      ‘Very seldom,’ Jane replied. ‘I do not think she has left the house, other than to walk in the gardens, since last Christmas. Her friends and neighbours call to see her now and then, and she did have a dinner party last time Mr Hambleton was staying, but that was two months ago.’

      ‘It is hardly surprising if she is in low spirits,’ Marianne said. ‘We must see what we can do to cheer her, Miss Trevor.’

      ‘Please call me Jane…if you wish…’ Jane’s face went pink.

      ‘Yes, of course. There is no reason why we should be formal with each other,’ Marianne said. ‘I should be happy to do so if you will call me by my name?’

      ‘Thank you,’ Jane said and looked pleased. ‘It will be nice to have young company in the house.’

      Marianne nodded, for she wished to be on good terms with her great-aunt’s companion. ‘You must tell me the best place for walking here, Jane. Aunt Bertha warned me that the cove can sometimes be dangerous.’

      ‘Oh, yes, I should stay well clear of that if I were you,’ Jane told her, a flash of alarm in her eyes. ‘It is very dangerous—and there are plenty of beaches just round the corner from there where you may walk safely. If you would care for it, I shall show you how to reach the safe beach in the morning—but there are pretty walks on the estate. We have some lovely rhododendrons, though of course they are over for this year—but you may find it more pleasant to walk on the cliffs, for the views are spectacular on a clear day.’

      ‘Yes, I dare say I may, for sand always gets into one’s shoes, does it not?’

      They had reached Marianne’s room and parted as she went inside. It was a large bedchamber, furnished in shades of green and blue with a hint of white here and there. The silk bedspread was made of green quilted silk and very handsome, as were the drapes at the windows, the sofa and stool covered in a deeper shade of blue. Matching chests stood at either side of the bed, and a dressing table with an oval mirror standing on top were placed in front of the window to the right, while a small writing table occupied the similar space before the window to the left. Because of the two windows, it was light and airy.

      Marianne’s few possessions had been unpacked, her combs, brushes and scent bottles placed on the dressing table. However, there were silver trinkets littering the tops of occasional tables and some handsome Chinese vases filled with dried flowers helped give the room an air of richness and comfort. Her dresses had been unpacked and were carefully laid on the shelves of the armoire.

      Marianne chose one of her older gowns, thinking she would save her new ones for when they had company. She had begun to change when a knock at the door heralded one of Lady Edgeworthy’s maids, who inquired if she could help her dress.

      ‘Thank