Mary Nichols

Scandal At Greystone Manor


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hand. They played in silence and recouped some of their losses. Drew was a very good player; he seemed to know where all the cards were and by the end of the evening they were in profit.

      * * *

      ‘A satisfactory evening,’ Drew said, as they strolled to Jermyn Street where he was lodging.

      ‘I think you must be a seasoned gambler,’ Mark said. ‘Hector Bolsover has a reputation as a sharp, but you made him look clumsy. He won’t like that.’

      ‘What do you know of the man?’

      ‘Not a great deal. I believe he is unmarried and spends all his time in the clubs and gaming hells. I have heard he does not always play fair, though no one has seen fit to challenge him. If he has Teddy’s vouchers, it could go ill for the Cavenhursts.’

      ‘So that was what you were in a brown study about?’

      ‘It is worrying.’

      ‘Are you concerned about the dowry?’

      ‘Good heavens, no! It is the least of my worries.’

      ‘So, we are still going to look for wedding finery tomorrow?’

      ‘Naturally we are.’ They stopped outside Drew’s lodgings. ‘And you are going to come back to Broadacres with me, aren’t you?’

      ‘Have I said that?’

      ‘No, but you will. I want you to meet Isabel again before the wedding. We will invite the Cavenhursts over for supper.’

      Drew laughed. ‘In the face of such a prospect, how can I refuse?’

      Mark went on his way to the Wyndham town house in South Audley Street well satisfied.

      Chapter Two

      ‘Papa, can you spare me a minute?’ Jane had found her father in the estate office where he worked most mornings. The desk in front of him was scattered with papers. He had evidently been raking his fingers through his greying hair; some of it was standing up on end.

      ‘Oh, it is you, Jane. Come in and sit down. I thought it was that reprobate son of mine and I can hardly be civil to him at the moment.’

      Jane advanced further into the room and sat on the chair placed the other side of the desk, a position usually occupied by the estate manager, but she had just seen him leave and knew her father was alone. ‘I am sorry to hear that, Papa. It is on his behalf I am come.’

      ‘So, he has descended to sending his sister to plead for him, has he?’

      ‘He feels that you have not fully comprehended the trouble he is in and that perhaps I can explain it better than he.’

      Sir Edward managed a humourless laugh. ‘I comprehend it only too well, Jane. What he does not comprehend is how impossible it is for me to comply with his outrageous demands without impoverishing the rest of the family.’

      Jane gasped. ‘Surely it is not as bad as that?’

      ‘It is every bit as bad as that. My investments have failed. Last year’s ruined harvest and the demands of my tenants for repairs, not to mention Isabel’s wedding, have been the last straw. We are going to have to retrench. I am sorry, but Teddy will have to find his own solution. I warned him the last time he came home that it was the last time. He must learn I meant it.’

      ‘But what is he to do, Papa? He is young and impressionable, it is only natural he wants to spread his wings and keep up with his friends.’

      ‘Then he should choose his friends more wisely.’

      ‘But, Papa...’

      ‘Jane, you will displease me if you continue. You have a soft and gentle heart and it is to your credit, but in this instance you are backing a lost cause. You would do better to put your mind to ways of retrenchment, ways that your mother will accept as reasonable.’

      ‘Very well, Papa.’ She rose to go, then turned back. ‘Isabel’s wedding is not in jeopardy, is it?’

      ‘No, I think we can manage that.’

      She left her father, but did not immediately seek out her brother. She needed a little time to herself and she needed to think about the task her father had set her. One thing was very sure: her inheritance was going to have to be sacrificed and the sooner she accepted that the better. She went up to her bedchamber, put on a light shawl and a bonnet and set out for the village.

      * * *

      But for the problems that weighed her down she would have enjoyed the short walk. The sun was shining, the birds were singing and the hedgerows were bright with blossom. Hadlea village, set in the north Norfolk fenland, was not a large one. There was a church, a rectory, a windmill, two inns and several cottages grouped around a triangular village green on which there was a pump and some old stocks, though no one had been put in those in her memory. Side roads from the green led to a farrier and harness-maker who also mended shoes, a butcher and a tiny front-room shop that sold almost anything the village women might need from salt to sugar and soap to candles, working boots to plain cotton tick. For anything like muslin and silk, ribbons and bonnets, they had to make a trip to Norwich or King’s Lynn or wait until the travelling salesman came round, usually at the end of the harvest when his customers had a little money to spend.

      Jane made her way to the rectory and was greeted cheerfully by Mrs Caulder. ‘Come in, Jane, I will have some tea and cakes brought into the parlour. It’s time Henry came out of his study. He has been in there all morning, working on tomorrow’s sermon.’

      Mrs Caulder was very plump, a testament to a love of her cook’s cakes. She fussed around, giving the orders and calling her husband to join them, while Jane sat on one of the chairs and wondered how she was going to explain that the five thousand pounds she had promised for their project would not be forthcoming. She could not divulge the true state of affairs.

      ‘How are you my dear?’ Mrs Caulder asked. ‘Did you walk here? I did not hear the pony and trap.’

      ‘I walked. It is such a lovely day.’ Even as she spoke, she wondered if the pony would have to go, or perhaps the carriage, or the riding horses.

      ‘To be sure it is. Ah, here is Henry.’

      The Rector was of medium height, with a shock of grey hair, which he wore long and tied back with a thin black ribbon. He was a jovial man and beamed at Jane. ‘What a pleasure to see you, my dear Miss Cavenhurst. I hope I find you well.’

      ‘Very well. But I am afraid I have some disappointing news.’

      ‘Surely not the wedding?’ exclaimed his wife, handing Jane a cup of tea.

      ‘Oh, no, nothing like that. It’s simply that I cannot give our orphan project the five thousand I promised.’ She paused, then resorted to an untruth. ‘I find I cannot touch it until either I marry or I reach the age of thirty in three years’ time. I have been racking my brains trying to think of a way of going ahead without it.’

      ‘My dear girl, do not look so downbeat, it is not the end of the world,’ the Rector said, flinging up the skirt of his coat and seating himself beside his wife to take a cup of tea from her. ‘We will contrive somehow without it. We shall have to find a wealthy patron, more than one if need be. I never did feel quite at ease about you giving it in the first place.’

      ‘Oh, I am much relieved,’ Jane said. ‘I thought it would be the end of all our hopes. You have given me fresh heart.’

      ‘There are orphanages all over the country, some a great deal better run than others. We must ask them how they manage and draw up a list of possible patrons. You, I am sure, could persuade people to donate. It is a good cause and you are so passionate about it.’

      * * *

      Jane laughed at that and the rest of the visit passed cheerfully. She was still smiling as she started out to cross the green on her way home.