one evening in May.
Rosa’s invitation to the Deardons threw Emily into a panic. She realised that she would sooner or later have to meet William Ashenden again, but this seemed altogether too soon. During the intervening week she attempted to find a dozen reasons why she should not be present, but her sister-in-law frustrated them all. Rosa thoroughly approved of William Ashenden and knew Philip liked him, too. This was enough to persuade her that this was indeed ‘just the man’ to be Emily’s salvation and she was determined to promote the acquaintance. She genuinely could not understand why Emily didn’t agree, and was convinced that once her sister-in-law got to know Sir William better she would acknowledge that Rosa was right. She was disappointed, therefore, when Emily appeared just before Lady Deardon and Sir William were due to arrive.
‘Emily! You have so many pretty summer dresses! Why on earth are you wearing that one?’
‘What’s wrong with it?’
‘It’s…it’s so dull. And surely you’d be cooler in one that didn’t fasten right up to the neck? Why didn’t you wear your new pale green muslin? It’s so pretty, and the colour suits you perfectly.’
‘I’ve decided that it is cut too low, Rosa. I prefer this one.’
Rosa was not finished. ‘And what have you done to your hair?’ she exclaimed. ‘It’s more suited for a walk through a cloister than a summer afternoon in the garden!’
Emily, who had taken pains to make herself as unlike the girl who had fallen out of that tree as possible, was pleased, but did her best to sound offended. ‘I’m sorry you don’t like the way I look,’ she said. In fact, she agreed with Rosa’s every word. Her dress was plain, in an unflattering shade of grey, and fastened up to the top. Much to her maid’s distress, she had insisted on having her hair pulled back and twisted into a low, tight knot at the back of her neck. Fashionably thin sandals, her usual wear in summer, had been replaced with boots. Emily had decided not to give in without a fight. She would deceive William Ashenden for as long as she could, until she could decide how to deal with him. She heard the sound of a carriage drawing up at the door. ‘But I’m afraid it’s too late to change my dress now,’ she said, doing her best to put a note of regret into her voice.
Philip and Rosa made their guests welcome, then led them into the garden. All five walked about in it for an hour or more, Emily using considerable ingenuity to avoid William’s company. When Rosa suggested they should sit in the shade for a while Lady Deardon accepted with pleasure, and the party made its way to a cool arbour, which had been furnished with a table, chairs and one or two benches. Here they sat down—all of them except Sir William.
‘You said something about an avenue of trees planted by your great-grandfather, I believe, Winbolt? I’d like to see them. Perhaps Miss Winbolt could show me the way and tell me about them?’
‘What a good idea,’ exclaimed Rosa. ‘She knows almost as much about the grounds as my husband, Sir William. I’m sure she would be delighted to be your guide. And you must ask her to show you the maze. The Shearings maze was once quite famous, but it was in a sad state before Philip and Emily restored it, along with the rest of the gardens.
‘A maze? That sounds very interesting. Miss Winbolt?’ He held out his arm.
Emily stared at him hopelessly. ‘I…I don’t think…’ she began and then stopped. She couldn’t come up with a single reason why she should refuse to go with him, except that she didn’t want to!
‘I do hope you can oblige him, Miss Winbolt,’ said Lady Deardon. ‘A large number of the trees at Charlwood are old and decayed, and will have to be replaced. William is becoming quite an expert on the subject. He has already inspected the plantations at Thirle. I’m sure he will find your avenue very interesting.’
Emily smiled weakly and took his arm. Sir William’s request was harmless enough. To persist in refusing, especially after his godmother’s encouraging words, would seem ungracious, and might well make him suspicious. But go into the maze with him she would not!
Once they were out of sight of the arbour Sir William stopped and asked, ‘Is something upsetting you, ma’am? The sun, perhaps? Or are you tired? We could easily sit somewhere and talk, if you would prefer it.’
‘No!’ exclaimed Emily with more vigour than politeness. Her companion raised one eyebrow and regarded her with surprise. But she could have sworn there was more than a touch of laughter in his eyes.
‘I mean…I like w-walking,’ she stammered. She took a breath. This would never do. If she was to impress this man with the contrast between the gipsy in the hollow and Miss Emily Winbolt, she should watch her responses! They walked on in silence while Emily tried frantically to think of something to say. After a while she said with commendable calm, ‘My sister-in-law tells me you were in the Navy. Have you seen much action?’
‘When I first joined, yes. But the Navy is no place for a man in peacetime, Miss Winbolt. So I took the… bull by the horns and sold out.’ Emily was startled. She almost stumbled. Had he meant anything by that pause in front of ‘bull’? She stole a glance at him but he looked unconcerned, and she was reassured as he went on, ‘I was in the West Indies at the time, so I went off to explore South America.’
‘How interesting. Where did you go? Brazil?’ To her relief the conversation that followed as they walked through the grounds was very conventional, mostly about his impressions of Mexico and Brazil. Emily began to relax.
But then he said, ‘But we’ve talked enough about me. These trees are truly splendid specimens. Are they oaks?’
‘Oaks? N…no! They are lime trees, I believe. There are one or two oaks scattered about the grounds, but they’ve been used as specimen trees.’
‘I saw a splendid old oak the other day. But sadly, it had lost one of its major branches.’
‘Oh?’
Sir William laughed. ‘In fact, I met one of your brother’s men there. A Will Darby. Do you know him?’
He knows, thought Emily. I’m sure he knows. But she suppressed any hint of fear and said calmly, ‘Of course I know him. He’s one of the grooms. Have you seen enough of the trees, sir? I think I’ve shown you the best of them.’
‘He warned me about a dangerous bull that was kept in the field where the oak grew.’
Emily put on a puzzled frown, then said, ‘Ah, yes! I think I know the one you mean. That would be Farmer Pritchard’s bull. Black Samson. Shall we turn back now?’
They turned and started to walk back towards the gate to the gardens. But her tormentor was not to be put off. ‘Of course I already knew about the bull,’ he went on. ‘I had seen it before when I was last in Stoke Shearings.’
This time the twinkle in his eye was even more marked. Was he playing some sort of cat-and-mouse game with her? Emily felt a spurt of anger. She was not about to weaken. She must keep her head and marshal her wits.
‘You’ve been here before? I can’t remember meeting you…?’
He went on, ‘I had a walk along the stream through the valley when I was last here, too. It’s a beautiful spot. You know it?’
Emily nodded.
‘Very steep sides to it, of course. I would have called on your brother, while I was staying in the village, but lost my way during the day, and…’ Emily stiffened. He shook his head and went on apologetically, ‘With one thing and another, by the time I got back to the inn it was too late.’
‘Really?’ she said with admirable indifference.
Her adversary was not deterred. He said, ‘I wish I had made the time now.’
The meaning was plain and she decided that this was the moment to stall him. ‘I am sure my brother would have made you very welcome, Sir William,’ she said primly. ‘So would my sister-in-law.’
‘And