The Transformation Of Miss Ashworth. Anne Ashley
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consult with you on a particular matter,’ Lady Chalford admitted, after once again appearing slightly taken aback by the younger woman’s blunt way of expressing herself. ‘And so pleased to have this opportunity to speak with you in private.’ She shot a quick glance across at the door. ‘Are we likely to be disturbed, do you suppose?’
‘Only by Rudge, if he takes it into his head to bring in more logs. But don’t be alarmed. Despite his blunt manner, he’s remarkably discreet,’ Beth assured her. ‘And Ann isn’t likely to return much before luncheon. It just so happens the vicar’s wife, having somehow discovered Ann was the daughter of a clergyman, approached her on the evening of your dinner party, and asked if she would kindly assist in helping to distribute clothes to the needy in the parish.’ Beth cast a brief look at the plasterwork ceiling above her head. ‘And she agreed, more fool her!’
‘Well, it just so happens that that is what I wish to consult with you about.’
It was Beth’s turn to be slightly startled, and she stared at her visitor in no little amazement over the rim of her glass for a second or two before fortifying herself from its contents. ‘You wish to discuss the vicar’s wife importuning Ann?’
‘Oh, no, no! You misunderstand me, my dear. It was mention of the dinner party that jogged my memory. You see, I wanted to ask you about Philip. I couldn’t help but notice you and he spent some little time together quite privately in the garden during the evening.’
Once again Beth was at a loss to understand what her visitor was attempting to convey. Disapproval, perhaps? ‘What of it?’
‘Well, I was wondering, you see, what you thought of him—his manner towards you, I mean?’
Just a ray of enlightenment at last began to dawn. ‘Damnably insulting, if you must know!’ Beth returned, at her most plainspoken. ‘Had the crass impudence to accuse me of once having behaved like a simpering idiot, would you believe!’ A vindictive glimmer all at once added an extra brilliance to her striking eyes. ‘And I shan’t forget it in a hurry, either, I can tell you!’
Lady Chalford gurgled with mirth. ‘You jest, wicked girl! Philip is ever the gentleman in mixed company.’
‘Ha! Much you know!’ Beth scoffed, but then relented when her visitor appeared slightly put out by the slur on the Baronet’s character. ‘Well, I suppose he’s your brother, so you’re bound to think the best of him.’
‘Oh, I do. I do,’ she was speedily assured. ‘And I’m so very concerned about him too.’ A moment’s pause, then, ‘Do you find him much altered?’
‘Well, naturally I do!’ Beth returned in a trice, thinking the question faintly absurd. ‘We’ve all changed in more than half a decade. The passage of time is kind to so very few.’
‘Quite!’ Lady Chalford acknowledged, frowning. ‘But I was thinking not so much of physical differences as changes in his character, his manner. He has become so withdrawn, so insular since…since poor Eugenie’s demise. Oh, I know he puts a brave face on it when in public, poor boy. But I have seen him, Bethany…have come upon him on several occasions since my arrival at the Court, just sitting there, studying the miniature of his late fiancée, which he keeps in the desk in his library. He always looks so forlorn, so lost, just staring down at the only remembrance he has of that lovely, lovely girl. But whenever I’ve attempted to console him, he sets me at a distance, and is distinctly aloof. I hardly dare mention Eugenie’s name for fear of upsetting him, and on the rare occasion I do he invariably changes the subject.’
‘How odd!’ Beth was genuinely perplexed as she recalled Philip discussing Eugenie quite openly with her on the evening of the dinner party, and surprisingly betraying little emotion whatsoever. Perhaps, though, it wasn’t sympathy he sought. Furthermore, he had never been one to wear his heart on his sleeve, she reminded herself.
‘Your brother was ever the private man, preferring to keep his own counsel for the most part, at least in his private concerns. He wouldn’t willingly betray his emotions in public, even in front of you, Constance. I do not doubt, though, he has suffered much over the loss of Eugenie.’
‘Oh, he has!’ Lady Chalford wholeheartedly agreed, taking a moment to dab at her eyes with the wisp of fine lawn swiftly extracted from her reticule. ‘He has never so much as looked at another female since the tragedy occurred.’ She coloured slightly. ‘At least, he has taken little notice of any female who would make him a suitable wife…not until, that is, this past Season.’
All at once Lady Chalford brightened, betraying more liveliness of spirit than Beth had ever witnessed in her before. ‘I do not know if you are aware of it, but your cousin Phoebe was brought out in the spring. And although, perhaps, not the instant success her eldest sister once was, she wasn’t without certain admirers. Even Philip paid her no little attention. Hardly surprising, though, really. She bears a striking resemblance to Eugenie.’
‘Really?’ Beth said, mildly interested. ‘The last time I saw Phoebe she didn’t resemble her eldest sister very much at all. Quite the little brown mouse, in fact! But that was some years ago, now I come to think about it.’
‘Then you are in for a surprise, my dear, for she does so now, as you’ll discover for yourself next month. Your aunt and cousin are to attend Philip’s birthday celebration, and are to put up at the Court for a few days. And that is where I am hoping I might count on your support.’
All at once alarm bells began to sound in Beth’s head. ‘How do you mean—count on my support? For what, precisely, may I ask?’
‘In helping Philip see a little more of Phoebe by, perhaps, generously inviting your cousin and aunt to stay here, enabling them to extend their sojourn in the county.’
‘Absolutely not! I shall not be made a convenience of a second time!’ Beth could see at a glance that she had shocked her visitor by the vehemence of her refusal. Nevertheless, she had no intention of changing her mind.
‘I’m sorry, ma’am, but it’s simply out of the question. And you’ll forgive my saying so, but I don’t suppose for a moment Philip would thank you for interfering in his personal concerns. He certainly wouldn’t appreciate me doing so, especially as we no longer share that close bond of friendship we once enjoyed. Furthermore, since I chose the Peninsula in preference to staying with her, the affection in which my aunt once held me has lessened considerably, if the letters I’ve received in recent years are anything to go by. If, however, she is now prepared to let bygones be bygones, and voices a desire to stay with me here at the Grange, then I shall be only too happy to invite her…next year, when I hope to have the entire house in good order.’
And with that Lady Chalford was forced to be satisfied.
Ann, returning in good time for luncheon, discovered her young mistress seated at the escritoire in the parlour precisely where she had left her some two hours earlier. The accounts book was opened at the exact same page, with few entries having been set down. The neatly stacked pile of bills by the slender right hand, did not appear to have decreased by very much, and there was clear evidence of a troubled frown lurking between the striking azure eyes.
‘What is it, Beth dear? Are you feeling slightly put out not having accomplished your accounts this morning? Would you like me to leave you in peace to finish the task?’
So deep in thought had she been that Beth had hardly been aware of the fact that someone had entered the room. As always, though, the soft, understanding tones, successfully breaking through her reverie, had had an immediate calming effect upon her troubled spirits, at least up to a point.
‘It’s true I haven’t done as much as I might have wished, but that’s the fault of my unexpected visitor, Ann,’ she informed her. ‘All the same, I don’t wish to be left alone. Come, let’s sit by the fire for a spell, and you can tell me all about your morning and the interesting snippets you’ve managed to pick up at the vicarage.’
Ann frankly laughed, because she knew well enough that Bethany, being somewhat unorthodox in behaviour,