Lady Gwendolen Investigates. Anne Ashley
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As she removed her cowl with a casual flick of one hand, there was, just for an instant, a marked softening about the set of thin lips, while brown eyes considered the burnished-copper highlights streaking through chestnut locks.
‘Very true, ma’am, it was,’ he agreed in the very next breath, the softer expression having disappeared so completely that Gwen wasn’t at all sure she hadn’t imagined it in the first place. ‘May I suggest, therefore, you attempt to take more care in future. Journeying about the country, even at this time of year, can prove a hazardous undertaking, without having to contend with acts of downright stupidity perpetrated by fellow travellers.’
‘Well, really!’ Gwen muttered, after he had doffed his hat in what she considered a most condescending manner and had begun to stride away in the direction of the main entrance.
Having to deal with abrasive fellows such as that was possibly something else she would need to grow accustomed to, she supposed, as she continued to watch her tormentor’s progress across the room until he had disappeared from view.
Undeniably she had had little experience of such unpleasant fellows. Her formative years, spent in a quiet country parsonage, and her marriage to a very considerate and protective husband, had certainly proved to be a shield against the more unpleasant aspects of life. All the same, she wasn’t completely unworldly. Furthermore, she had no intention of withering, like some delicate bloom touched by an icy wind, merely as a result of a little unpleasantness.
Besides which, she was not entirely alone and defenceless, she reminded herself. Even though she had no immediate family now living, and had been widowed for several months, she could always rely on dear Gillie’s loving protection and unfailing support.
Her blue eyes scanned the coffee room, seeking and quickly locating the plump figure of her lifelong companion-cum-maid. At that moment, the devoted servant just happened to be locked in conversation with a harassed-looking individual, whom Gwen could only assume must surely be the landlord. From the slight look of disappointment so easily discernible when the maid turned in her direction, Gwen guessed there was no private parlour available. Which, considering the number of patrons bustling about the inn, was in no way surprising, she decided, gesturing towards a row of settles set at frequent intervals along one of the walls.
Because the seat nearest the substantial fire was already occupied by a fashionably attired gentleman, Gwen was obliged to slip into a settle sited a little further away from the source of heat. As the seats were placed back to back, she had little difficulty hearing the gentleman talking softly to the inn’s cat, which she had noticed had been curled up beside him and, typically feline, closest to the fire.
She had absolutely no difficulty either, just a few moments later, in recognising the cultured voice that announced authoritatively, ‘My groom will have the carriage round at the door in five minutes.’
‘It’s dashed good of you, Pont, to put yourself out this way,’ the well-dressed gentleman responded, while Gwen herself took the added precaution of slipping further down the high-backed settle so as to avoid detection by the new arrival. ‘It’s a deal more comfortable travelling in a private carriage than going on the mail-coach.’
‘I’ve already told you, Merry, I’m not putting myself out,’ his companion responded, proving instantly that he wasn’t always downright rude and could evidently be quite obliging when so inclined. ‘I’ve managed to conduct my business here in Bristol speedily, as you know. And I did intend to pay a brief visit to the capital within the next couple of weeks. As well go now as later. So long as you don’t object to making that slight detour to Bath first?’
‘Not at all, old chap,’ the abrasive gentleman was speedily assured. ‘Haven’t set foot in the place since great-aunt Beatrice passed away, ten years or more ago.’ There followed a significant pause, then, ‘How have the girls settled in at the seminary?’
‘It’s still early days. Nonetheless, according to the headmistress’s letter, very well indeed…considering.’ The deep and prolonged sigh was clearly audible to Gwen who continued, unashamedly, to eavesdrop. ‘All the same, I’ll not be completely easy in my mind until I’ve seen for myself, and spoken to my wards.’
‘It was a bad business…a very bad business, Pont, especially as both girls had grown so fond of that poor governess. She was quite alone in the world, I seem to remember you saying, no immediate family.’
‘Not as far as I’m aware. I recall her mentioning she’d lost both parents when she was quite young. I do happen to know for a fact she corresponded with someone residing in the capital—a friend, I can only suppose. Naturally, I should have taken the trouble to apprise this person of what had occurred. Unfortunately no letters were found among her belongings offering a clue to the person’s identity. Which was most odd, because I know for a fact she both wrote and received a number of missives during those many months she was in my employ.’
There was no mistaking the thread of sadness in the abrupt gentleman’s voice, proving yet again that he wasn’t wholly devoid of compassion. Although a moment later Gwen wondered if she had credited him with more feelings than he possessed when he added, ‘Oddly enough, I had come to look upon her as one of those rare members of her sex—a refreshingly sensible young woman. Then she ups and does something utterly birdwitted. Takes herself into Marsden Wood, a place she well knew had earned itself something of an unsavoury reputation in recent years. Furthermore, she does so in January, for heaven’s sake! Now, I ask you, Merry, what in the world can have possessed any level-headed creature to go exploring a wood on a dismally damp winter’s afternoon? And what’s more…alone!’
Although, in part, to pass the time while awaiting her servant’s arrival, she had, still without suffering the least pang of conscience, continued to listen to the conversation, Gwen had no very clear idea of precisely what was being discussed. That some misfortune had befallen a woman while out exploring some wood or other was evident. What became obvious too in the next moment was that the gentleman known as Merry was as much at a loss to understand the unfortunate female’s actions as was her abrasive employer.
‘It would take a greater brain than I possess to attempt to explain what motivates many females to act as they do. But that particular woman’s actions on that day were sheer folly, especially after you’d made it clear from the first that to venture alone near the wood might prove unwise.’
The unexpected rumble of laughter that followed the pronouncement suggested that Master Merry had perhaps been well named. ‘And a die-hard misogynist like yourself, Pont, could never hope to unravel the mysteries of the female mind.’
A further pause, then,
‘Why, my dear friend, you above anyone should suppose I dislike all women, I cannot imagine. On the contrary, over the years I have thought well of several. Like yourself, I’ve never been tempted into parson’s mousetrap. But that, let me assure you, is simply a matter of choice. I’ve yet to meet a female with whom I could happily share my life.’
‘Nor are you ever likely to do so while you continue to remain so fastidious, Pont, for ever searching for the slightest flaw in either looks or character.’
‘My dear Merry, you delude yourself,’ was the immediate, drawled response. ‘I should never waste time or energy attempting to seek the perfect woman, simply because such a creature does not exist. Nor do I actively seek imperfections in the opposite sex, either. There’s absolutely no need for me to do so, of course, when they surface within minutes of my making any female’s acquaintance.’
A bark of decidedly mocking laughter quickly followed. ‘Now, you take that idiotic creature I encountered a mere few minutes ago,’ Gwen’s ridiculer continued, evidently having warmed to the subject. ‘No need for me even to attempt to strike up a conversation to know she was utterly birdwitted. Walks into a crowded posting-house with a cowl pulled low over her face. Couldn’t possibly have seen where she was going, and looks startled when she cannons into me…I ask you!’
‘Ahh, but was she pretty?’ the other enquired, after an appreciative chuckle