They still met in the chapel gallery, and there was one part of their private discussions which she felt compelled to convey to her sisters.
“Do you think we look alike, sisters?” she said as they sat in the morning room one day.
“Not in the least,” Charlotte said robustly.
“We are quite different,” Augusta said.
“We never dress alike,” Maria added.
“No, but we do wear each other’s gowns and jewellery,” Sophia said, “and we have the same style and colour of hair. To anyone who does not know us well, it might be confusing.”
“I do think there might be something in what you say,” said the duchess, looking up from the fichu she was hemming. “Just at first, I did have trouble telling you apart, but I soon got into the way of it. Charlotte is most likely to be with Cousin Hester, wearing an apron. Maria is usually the one with a book in her hand, and Augusta is often to be found wearing a riding habit. As for Sophia, if I cannot find the latest journals, I know where to look. But the gentlemen, who see you less often, do have difficulty, I believe. James Hammond said once that he simply calls each of you‘Miss Merrington’.”
“Do you think perhaps that Lord Daniel had trouble, too?” Sophia said. “He got to know me at Marshfields, where I was the only Miss Merrington, but then when he came here—”
“Oh! That is entirely possible,” the duchess said. “You do like to go round together, the four of you, too, which compounds the problem. I wonder if that was why he left so suddenly.”
“But we are not truly alike,” Maria said robustly, “and a man who had formed an attachment would not be confused, surely? He would know his love in any company.”
This was a daunting point, and the ladies fell silent. It was as well for Sophia that she had Simon’s affection to cheer her spirits for otherwise she would have been in a pitiable state at this point. The very thought that Lord Daniel had, perhaps, abandoned his courtship because he could not recognise her was lowering in the extreme. But Simon knew her, he‘knew his love in any company’, and she needed no other.
Lord Daniel’s defection had no power to hurt her, for her heart was whole and in the gentle hands of another.
19: Lord Edlesborough
Simon and Juliet travelled in the utmost comfort. A spell of dry weather and the lengthening days meant that they could, at a pinch, have made the journey to Edlesborough in a single day, but they chose instead to make an overnight stay in Kidderminster, where the duke’s livery brought them impeccable service and an excellent dinner.
Juliet was in excellent spirits. Her fine new clothes, even though only borrowed, and the deference accorded to anyone travelling under the auspices of the Duke of Brinshire, gave her a new confidence. Although she worried a little about the expense of their journey, the sight of Simon’s bag of gold from Thwaite brought an astonished‘Oooh!’to her lips, and after that she said no more about it, even when presented with a dish of woodcock and a lobster, with a bottle of the best claret.
They made an early start the next morning, aiming to reach Edlesborough by noon. That way, if they were able to see the earl, there would still be plenty of time to return to Kidderminster before dusk. Simon expected to be thrown outperemptorily, in which case they would be on the road again even more swiftly.
As they travelled, Juliet became more and more subdued, until Simon noticed that every attempt at conversation foundered with a monosyllabic answer.
“Are you quite well, sister?” he said gently.
Mutely she shook her head.
“Do you wish to abandon the enterprise? We can turn round and return to Kidderminster, if you wish it, or we can stop at the next inn we see, if you are unwell.”
“No, not unwell,” she said, hunching her shoulders miserably. “It is only that… must I come inside with you? I am not sure that I can face…him.I should like to see Andrew and Luke again, for I have some vague memories of them, and I should very much like to meet the countess, to thank her personally for all those little presents she sent us, but Father? Must I?”
Simon was very aware of the valet and maid on the opposite seat, studiously looking out of the windows and pretending not to hear.
“You need not come inside if you had rather not,” he said. “In fact, I shall not be surprised if I fail to set foot over the threshold myself.”
“Might I wait for you in the carriage? You need not even mention me. That would be best, would it not?”
And so it was agreed.
Before long, the villages they passed through began to look familiar to Simon, and then they were in Kingsley Heath, with its church, smithy and inn, bringing back a thousand jumbled memories. The villagers walking about or tending their gardens turned to stare as the carriage passed by. A woman hanging washing bobbed a curtsy, and several men doffed their hats, seeing the mark of a nobleman on the carriage door. Then theywere turning down the lane beside the church, passing between bare fields and finally sweeping through open gateposts into Edlesborough.
There was only a short distance between gate and house, not long enough for Simon to tame his thoughts into composure. After fifteen years, he was finally coming home. There was the south lawn, a little ragged at this season. Over there, the stable yard was hidden behind a stand of trees. To the other side, a wide path led round to the formal gardens and the deer park.
Memories tumbled over themselves as he gazed avidly through the windows. There was the tree where Luke had fallen and broken his arm when he was showing off to the Dillon girls. At the bottom of the lawn was the flat stretch where they had practised their archery, and Andrew had once shot a peacock. Where was the pool where Matthew had almost drowned, before Simon had hauled him out by his feet? Somewhere behind the shrubbery, he thought. But the memories from inside the house were less happy — the library where his father ruled like an emperor, or the dining room where meals were punctuated by dyspeptic outbursts. Worse, the attic room where he was banished for some imagined transgression, even his sketch books taken away from him.
He shivered. Perhaps staying in the carriage was a sensible response, or simply turning round and heading straight back to Kidderminster. But they were already passing under the great arch to enter the courtyard and sweeping round to halt before the steps to the front door. One of the footmen leapt down from the back to open the door and lower the steps.
“Good luck,” Juliet whispered.
