The Transformation Of Miss Ashworth. Anne Ashley
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my darling Rudge to return to Portugal in order to obtain a couple of dozen cases of the stuff, before setting sail for home.’
‘And dare I enquire who “darling Rudge” might be?’ Philip asked, watching her lower herself with a grace that was wholly natural into the chair opposite.
‘For want of a better description, I suppose you might say Amos Rudge is my major-domo.’ Leaning back in her chair, she appeared completely at ease in the company of a gentleman whom she had not set eyes on in six long years. ‘He’s a trifle rough around the edges, it must be said. The Lord only knows what callers to the house will make of him. He’s not above telling someone he doesn’t like the look of to clear off in no uncertain terms. Used to be dear Papa’s batman, as it happens.’
At mention of the late Colonel, Philip immediately offered his condolences. Which were sincerely meant, for not only had he respected his late neighbour, he had genuinely liked him too.
‘I understand it happened towards the latter part of the campaign,’ he added, when she regarded the contents of her glass with a pensive expression on her face, though blessedly with no suspicion of tears.
‘Yes, he was shot in the back whilst out on a scouting mission for Wellington, shortly before the army crossed into France, and died a few days later. But I’m not sorry it happened that way,’ she surprised him by admitting. ‘I had been informed by one of the army surgeons a few months before that my father was in the first stages of the wasting disease. He died serving his country. He would have wanted it that way. He was buried in Spain. And I remained with the army until we reached Paris. I believe he would have wished that too.’
Once again she relapsed into silence for a few moments, whilst all the time regarding him steadily over the rim of her glass, before adding, ‘Yes, sadly we have both lost loved ones during these past years, Philip. It was very many weeks before the sad news of Eugenie’s death reached us. Papa did write on behalf of us both. I hope you received his letter?’
Beth continued to regard him keenly. Although the heartfelt sympathy he had shown when speaking of her father was still there, lurking in the depths of his eyes, she could detect, amazingly enough, absolutely no other very evident emotion hidden in those grey depths. It was really most strange. She would have expected to see something…anything to betray his own deep sorrow. But there was nothing.
‘I did write to my aunt and uncle, of course, during the time I was out there in Spain, keeping up with all their news as best I could,’ Beth went on to reveal, more in an attempt to bridge the lengthening silence than anything else. ‘I will say one thing for Aunt Hetta, she’s nothing if not a pragmatist. Grieve over the loss of her eldest daughter she undoubtedly did, and always will, I do not doubt, but it clearly didn’t deter her from doing her absolute best for her other girls. Three married daughters now—some achievement!’
‘Indeed, yes,’ Philip agreed, a suspicion of a smile tugging at his lips now. ‘Life goes on, as the saying goes,’ he added, finishing off his port, and rising to his feet. ‘And speaking of which, would you and Mrs Stride care to dine with us at the Court on Friday evening as, judging by your attire, I assume you consider your period of mourning at an end?’
‘Us…?’ Beth echoed, swooping down on this surprising disclosure.
‘Connie intends staying with me for a few weeks, playing hostess.’
‘Has she brought the family with her?’
‘Good God, no!’ Philip shuddered at the mere idea. ‘I might be an indulgent brother, Beth, but not to that extent. The whole brood, five of ’em at the last count, decided to come down with a string of childish ailments that continued throughout the spring and most of the summer, resulting in their mother’s total exhaustion. She’s taking refuge with me at the Court for a few weeks’ well-earned rest. Or at least that’s what she’s putting about. What she’s really determined to do is ensure my thirtieth birthday doesn’t pass without celebration.’
Beth frankly laughed as she, too, rose to her feet to bid him farewell. ‘Oh, well, in that case we’ll be delighted to accept your invitation to dine.’
‘Excellent!’ He appeared very well pleased. ‘Only a small affair, you understand? But it will offer you the opportunity to reacquaint yourself with a few neighbours, and meet some new ones too.’
With that, he captured her hand, and, before she could withdraw it from his grasp, he had brushed his lips lightly across the skin.
Chapter Two
At the click of the door Beth abandoned her position by the window, from where she had been following her esteemed visitor’s progress along the short sweep of the drive, until he had disappeared from view. She wasn’t remotely surprised to see her good friend return to the room, just as she hadn’t been particularly surprised by her feeble excuse to leave it a short time earlier. Ann was nothing if not highly perceptive. She would have judged in a trice that the rapport between the master of Staveley Court and the mistress of the Grange had once been, perhaps, a trifle stronger than that of merely affable neighbours, even though Beth had done her utmost to keep her feelings well under control the instant she had discovered the identity of the unexpected caller.
She continued to do so now, as she slanted a mocking glance on her way back over to the decanters. ‘My paid companion you might wish to be termed, but pray abandon any desire to become a duenna. I should dismiss you in a trice for rank incompetence.’
Far from chastened, Ann frankly laughed. ‘But, my dear, I could see you were in no danger! I believe I recognise an honourable gentleman when I see one. And such a handsome one, too!’
Beth paused in the act of refilling her glass to consider for a moment. ‘Do you think him handsome?’
‘Why, yes! Don’t you?’
‘Not particularly, no. Attractive, certainly,’ Beth answered, as candid as ever. ‘But I have always considered him completely trustworthy. And I cannot imagine my opinion on that will ever change.’
‘And, of course, you have known him well enough to have formed that opinion of his character. Yet, when you took the liberty of crossing his land yesterday, and touched upon your relationship with the eligible Baronet, you gave me every reason to suppose you had never been anything other than amiable neighbours.’
Although the accusation was clearly discernible, Beth wasn’t unduly troubled by it. ‘And so we were, Ann dear. Here, pass me your glass, and I shall refill it with that revolting concoction you choose to tip down your throat!’
Once comfortably settled in their respective chairs again, Beth made no attempt to divert her companion’s mind by raising a different topic. Instead, she tried to explain her past relationship with the Baronet more fully by first reminding Ann of certain convivial evenings enjoyed out in the Peninsula in the company of Colonel Ashworth, and other distinguished officers.
‘So, having heard him, on more than one occasion, reminisce about my childhood,’ she continued, ‘you must have gathered I had had something of an unorthodox upbringing.’
‘Oh, yes, I do recall your father mentioning on more than one occasion that you were something of a tomboy, shamefully going about in breeches.’
Beth gurgled with mirth, genuinely amused. ‘Yes, and it was all very well for him, years afterwards, to lament over my deplorable behaviour, but let me assure you, at the time, he actively encouraged me to behave like the son he’d never been blessed to have.’ She considered for a moment. ‘Had my father been next in line for the title, instead of the youngest of three sons, I think maybe he might have remarried at some point and tried to beget a son himself. But as it was…’
Settling herself more comfortably in the chair, Beth allowed her mind to wander back over the years yet again. ‘You’ll remember me telling you that my mother died when I was very young. My recollections of her are distinctly hazy,