morning. The family are at Riding Park for a se’nnight from Friday, and urge us to join them. It will be the very thing! We may stay at the Park and visit in Northampton, and be as merry as grigs!’
Lavender fidgeted uneasily. ‘I am not sure,’ she said doubtfully. ‘I do not feel inclined for company at the moment, Caro—’
Caroline opened her eyes wide. ‘Upon my word, you are very retiring at present! I know you did not enjoy your London Season, but you are perfectly at ease in good company and the Covinghams are not so high in the instep to put one in dislike! Why, they have always treated me with friendship even when I worked for them!’ Her face changed. ‘But I shall not force you to go if you do not wish it. If you will not be comfortable, dearest Lavender, you must stay here—’
Lavender shook her head. The thought of staying at Hewly on her own seemed even worse than that of going away. Impatient with herself, she smiled at her sister-in-law.
‘I’m sorry, Caro. Take no notice of me, I am in a fit of the megrims at the moment! A change of scene is just what I need.’
‘Capital!’ Caroline smiled. ‘I shall write to Anne directly. You will see, Lavender—it shall be just the thing!’
Their first evening at Riding Park was a comfortable one. The house party was small and consisted only of themselves, Lady Anne Covingham and her husband Lord Freddie, and the youngest Covingham daughter, Frances. Frances was eighteen and a lively brunette, and Lavender eyed her with caution. She had met girls like Frances Covingham during her London Season, and was miserably aware that she had nothing in common with them.
Lady Anne was exactly as Caroline had promised. Small, dark and vivacious, she possessed a warmth of manner that immediately made Lavender feel at home. Lord Freddie was equally charming and they all seemed utterly delighted to see Caroline again, and to get to know her new family. Miss Covingham in particular was thrilled to see her old governess and fell on Caroline’s neck with tears of joy.
They dined en famille the first night, with no ostentatious display of plate or silver, though Lady Anne was at pains to explain that this was not out of a lack of respect for their visitors, but simply because they considered Caroline so much a part of the family. She explained that there was to be a dinner and ball in a few days, but in the meantime they preferred the house party to be informal. As though to underline this fact, the gentlemen did not linger over their port, but rejoined the ladies quickly for tea in the drawing-room, where Miss Covingham played a number of Schubert pieces. She performed prettily and with competence and Lavender, who had never been musical, felt her fragile spirits sink again. She was glad that no one asked her to play, for after Frances’s skill she knew she would have sounded like an elephant clattering over the keys.
When Frances had finished, she came over to the window-seat and sat down next to Lavender with a smile. Lavender smiled back, a little hesitantly.
‘You play very well, Miss Covingham! You must have a natural talent for music!’
Frances laughed, her big brown eyes sparkling. ‘Truth to tell,’ she confided, ‘the credit for my playing should go to Miss Whiston—Mrs Brabant, that is. I was a terrible pupil and though I shall never be truly talented, Mrs Brabant persisted until I was at least no embarrassment!’ She smiled across at Caroline, who was deep in conversation with Lady Anne. ‘Oh, it was a sad day for me when Miss Whiston left us, for she was the greatest good friend to us all!’
‘You must have missed her a lot,’ Lavender ventured.
Frances gave her a dazzling smile. ‘Oh, prodigiously! My two sisters were already married, you see, and I was very lonely! But we always fought over who should have Miss Whiston, for we were all most attached to her! When she married, my sister Louisa wanted Miss Whiston to go with her as her companion, you know, but Harriet and I could not bear to spare her! And Miss Whiston said that it would be better for Louisa and Cheverton to have some time on their own.’ She frowned. ‘Louisa is volatile, you know, and she and Cheverton were forever arguing! But they rub along tolerably well together now and have two delightful babies, so I suppose they must have settled their differences!’
Lavender blinked slightly at this insight into the Cheverton marriage. ‘And your other sister, Miss Covingham—Harriet, is it? You said that she is married as well?’
Her sisters’ marriages were evidently a perennially interesting topic with Frances, who wriggled slightly on the window-seat as she settled down for a really good gossip.
‘Oh yes, Miss Brabant, Harriet is married to Lord John Farley—Stapleton’s heir, you know. But I fear they do not suit.’ Her round face took on a doleful expression. She leaned closer to Lavender and dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘Mama and Papa were not at all happy about the match, you know, but Harri is headstrong and threatened to elope! Well, she nearly set the house by the ears! Mama was in a fit of the vapours and Papa was storming around and threatening to horsewhip the fellow, until Miss Whiston made everyone calm. She spoke to Harriet, you know, but she could not persuade her! I was listening at the door, and heard Miss Whiston—Mrs Brabant—tell Harri that Farley was a womaniser who would make her unhappy, but Harri was hot for him and would not listen!’ Frances shrugged her plump white shoulders philosophically. ‘So in the end Papa gave his consent and they were married and now,’ she dropped her voice confidentially, ‘he keeps a mistress quite openly and Harri is as miserable as sin!’
She sat back and opened her eyes very wide. ‘Now what do you think of that, Miss Brabant!’
‘I am sorry for your sister,’ Lavender said truthfully. ‘It must be a dreadful thing to love a man who does not care as much for you.’
‘Oh, Harri fancied herself in love with him,’ Frances said, assuming a world-weary air that seemed far in advance of her years, ‘but it was all a nonsense! Why, now she has a tendre for another gentleman, and is thinking of running off with him—’ She broke off, seeing that both Caroline and her mother were eavesdropping, and bit her lip. ‘Anyway, I should not gossip so! But Harri has caused me no end of trouble,’ she added gloomily, ‘because I was to have my come-out this year, but with all the fuss over Harri’s wedding, Mama thought it best to wait until I was older and more sensible! She says that the three of us are headstrong and flighty but I would never be so foolish!’
Lavender laughed. She was finding it impossible to dislike Frances Covingham. On the one hand she epitomised everything that Lavender had always thought she had an aversion to in young ladies. She was dark and modish, and had no interest in scholarship and a fascination with fashion and gossip that Lavender found quite tedious. On the other hand, she was clearly a sweet-natured girl and Caroline had obviously worked hard to instil in her a set of values that went beyond the money and consequence granted by her position. Lavender realised that Frances’s uncomplicated warmth and friendliness were a far cry from the haughty snobbery that she had encountered during her London Season.
Frances smoothed her skirts. ‘Forgive me, Miss Brabant. I am such a sad rattle! Tell me about yourself, and about Hewly Manor. It sounds a delightful place…’
‘Oh, I am a poor subject of conversation,’ Lavender said hastily, ‘but I am always happy to talk of Hewly! It is a beautiful house and I love to wander in the grounds and the countryside—’
‘By yourself?’ Frances looked struck halfway between incredulity and respect. ‘Only fancy!’
‘Oh yes, for there is no danger in the woods and lanes—’
Lavender broke off, remembering that sometimes one met with the unexpected in Steep Wood.
‘Fancy!’ Miss Covingham repeated vaguely. ‘Indeed, it sounds delightfully pastoral!’ Her brow wrinkled. ‘You will be sorry to leave Hewly when you marry then, Miss Brabant!’
Lavender frowned slightly at what seemed to be a non sequitur. ‘Oh! But there is no likelihood of that, Miss Covingham! I am well past my last prayers and do not intend to marry!’
It seemed she had uttered the unthinkable. Frances gave a