The Transformation Of Miss Ashworth. Anne Ashley

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Название The Transformation Of Miss Ashworth
Автор произведения Anne Ashley
Жанр Историческая литература
Серия Mills & Boon Historical
Издательство Историческая литература
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781408913710



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at the hatless young lady staring back at him from the chaise window, before his craggy, weather-beaten face eventually broke into a near-toothless grin.

      ‘God bless my soul! As I live and breathe, if it ain’t you, Miss Bethany! And after all these years an’ all!’ he exclaimed, throwing wide the gates without further ado, and then moving as swiftly as his arthritic, bow legs would carry him to the side of the vehicle.

      ‘Never thought to see you back ’ere again,’ he declared, his beady-brown eyes betraying a suspicion of tears as he stared up at a face he well remembered.’

      ‘How are you, Dodd? she asked gently. ‘Still suffering with the old joints, I see.’

      ‘I do well enough, miss. All the better for seeing you. And I fancy I won’t be the only one, neither. The master be up at the ’ouse. Come back from Lunnon weeks back.’

      All at once Beth’s radiant and unforgettable smile began to fade. ‘Truth to tell, Dodd, I’m not here to see your master. I’ve been travelling for the best part of three weeks, and thought to make use of the short cut across Sir Philip’s land. But I don’t want to get you into trouble.’

      ‘Bless you, Miss Beth, you go right on ahead. Master wouldn’t mind you crossing ’is land, that I do know.’

      Staveley Court was not so much distinguished by its size as by its architectural splendour, and the magnificence of its surrounding park, which could be viewed unrestricted from most every room in the house. Consequently Lady Chalford had had little difficulty in following the progress of the post-chaise-and-four from her brother’s west-facing library window.

      ‘You didn’t mention at luncheon that you were expecting visitors, Philip. I wouldn’t have taken my customary afternoon nap had I known. You may as well make use of me during the time I’m here. At the very least I could have made your visitors welcome.’

      The shapely hand moving back and forth across the page did not falter even for an instant, as the recipient of this disclosure confirmed his only caller that day had been his steward in the forenoon.

      Lady Chalford’s brows came together in rare show of disapproval. ‘In that case, dear brother, someone is once again taking advantage of your good nature. I’ve told you before, Philip, you are far too tolerant in many respects, too complaisant by half! It’s common knowledge that, since the war, pockets of unrest have sprung up all over the country. Why, look what happened to you earlier this summer. Someone tried to take a pot-shot at you. And it’s of no use your pretending otherwise! You simply cannot afford to let strangers trespass on your property, even if they are travelling in a post-chaise-and-four.’

      Completely unruffled, Sir Philip Staveley signed his name with a flourish, before rising to his feet and joining his sister at the window. ‘I would be extremely surprised, Connie, if that shooting accident was anything other than just that. Remember, it took place on my land. In all probability the culprit was one of my neighbours’ over-enthusiastic sons discharging his gun without due care. And as for that carriage… I very much doubt all the occupants can be total strangers, otherwise entry would have been barred, most especially by Dodd on the east gate. Furthermore, that conveyance, unless I much mistake the matter, has travelled some distance, possibly from London.’

      Lady Chalford turned her head to stare up at her much taller brother, thereby instantly revealing a similarity or two in their profiles. Both had inherited certain Staveley facial characteristics—the long, thin aristocratic nose, not to mention clear, grey eyes.

      Unlike his sister’s, however, Sir Philip’s orbs had once betrayed a disarming twinkle that a great many members of the fair sex had found most winning. His hair, a shade or two darker than his more mature sibling’s, swept back in soft waves from a high, intelligent forehead. A firm jaw-line, a shapely yet not overgenerous mouth, and a pair of gracefully arching brows above those thickly lashed eyes were all features worthy of note; and although he might not have been considered strictly handsome by the more fastidious among his class, a great many discerning female members considered him most attractive.

      Which was more than could be said for his sister, whose youthful bloom had long since faded, and whose thickening figure betrayed the fact that she had presented her spouse with several pledges of her affection during fourteen years of marriage. Notwithstanding, even her fiercest critics would never have stigmatised Lady Chalford as an ill-favoured woman. In fact, when animated, as now, she still held an appeal to a certain number of the more mature members of the opposite sex.

      ‘You’re bamming me, Philip!’ she chided gently. ‘How can you possibly deduce that?’

      ‘By using my eyes and brain, Constance,’ he returned, slanting a mocking glance down at her. ‘Firstly, not many can afford the luxury of travelling in a post-chaise-and-four. Those in these parts with funds enough to do so, like myself, own their own carriages. Secondly, the majority of the larger houses in the locale lie to the north and east of my property. Furthermore, there is only one house situated on the western boundary whose owner has been absent for any length of time, and whose return might well be undertaken in a hired carriage.’

      Lady Chalford’s jaw dropped perceptively, a clear indication that her mind had woken up to a startling possibility. ‘You don’t suppose, do you, that young Bethany Ashworth has returned home after all these years?’

      Unlike his sister, Sir Philip betrayed no emotion whatsoever as he said, ‘Naturally, I shan’t know for sure, until I’ve consulted with Dodd. All the same, it’s a distinct possibility. Augustus Ashworth, together with his associates and members of his family, was among the favoured few who attained permission from our sire to take a short cut across the park in order to reach the village more quickly.’

      As the post-chaise at last disappeared from view behind a screen of stately elms, Sir Philip moved across the room in the direction of a small table upon which several decanters stood. ‘Common report would have me believe the shutters have been removed from the Grange’s windows these past three weeks or more, and that a couple of village girls have been hired to work in the house. Seemingly someone, I know not who, has been buying in supplies of food, and making use of several local tradesmen in order to make the house ready for habitation.’

      ‘It stands to reason, then, that Bethany must be returning home,’ Lady Chalford concluded, after having accepted the glass of ratafia her brother held out to her. ‘What other explanation could there possibly be?’ she asked, rearranging her skirts as she made herself comfortable in one of the chairs.

      Seating himself opposite, Sir Philip gazed across at his sister with lazy affection. Fond of her though he had always been, he had never rated her capacity for understanding very highly. At the same time he did appreciate her finer qualities. For instance, she was, basically, a very kind person, never one to bear a grudge or utter a deliberately unkind remark. Moreover, as she had never attempted to make unreasonable demands on his time, he was able to ignore for the most part her less favourable traits when she did choose to inflict her company upon him for a prolonged stay.

      ‘Several, my dear,’ he responded, after fortifying himself from his glass. ‘Dodd, as I mentioned before, must have recognised at least one occupant of that vehicle, otherwise he would not have allowed entry. It might have been Beth, of course. Or it might easily have been the late Colonel Ashworth’s man of business, who could well have received instructions to ensure the house is in good order for a new occupant.’

      He couldn’t forbear a smile at his sister’s look of utter bewilderment. ‘Evidently you hadn’t considered the possibility that Beth might have chosen to sell the house in order to live elsewhere, possibly abroad,’ he went on. ‘After all, she’s lived away from these shores long enough. And now I come to think about it, when last I saw Lady Henrietta Barfield during the Season she mentioned something about her niece’s intention to remain in Paris for a while.’

      All at once Lady Chalford was silent, clearly in a world of her own, before surprisingly announcing, ‘Do you know, Philip, I always considered her actions most strange.’

      Philip paused in the act of raising his glass