Miss Winbolt and the Fortune Hunter (9 page)

‘It's an intriguing idea, but not at all conventional. I can see why your sister-in-law finds it hard to understand. But does this mean you won't have time to work on plans for Charlwood?'

‘I think it might be years before I manage to convince my loving brother and his wife that I could be happy living alone,' she said with a sigh. ‘I don't want to hurt them. And if we don't rejoin them soon, they will surely wonder what has happened to us.'

‘Then we shall walk a little faster.' They quickened their pace. ‘
Will
you think of plans for Charlwood's gardens?'

She threw him an amused glance. ‘You know very well that I couldn't resist that. You are counting on it. Yes, I'd like to do some plans for them—such an opportunity is unlikely to come my way again.'

‘Not counting on it exactly, but
hoping
you would. I am very glad you've agreed to.'

While they were still just out of earshot Emily said, ‘I think I can trust you not to mention my other plans? The situation is still a delicate one.'

‘Of course. You may trust me in anything, Miss
Winbolt.' She looked at him, startled, but he did not add to it.

They joined Philip and Rosa and walked back down the drive to the Dower House, where they enjoyed refreshments prepared by Mrs Lilley. Then, after thanking their host, they drove off.

 

William was unusually silent that evening. His mind was busy with ideas and speculation. Emily Winbolt's plans for her future were unusual to say the least. In spite of what she had said, could there perhaps be a better, more conventional solution for her problem, one which might help to solve his own?

I
n fact, William was
so
silent that evening that Lady Deardon asked him what was wrong. ‘I hope you're not feeling ill. Maria Fenton visited this afternoon and was quite disappointed that you weren't here. I invited her to call tomorrow.'

Sir Reginald grunted, ‘I hope you don't expect me to be here to welcome her. I don't like her. Puts herself forward too much for my taste.'

‘It isn't you she wants to see, Reggie dear,' said his wife patiently.

‘I know that. It's William she's after with her invitations to dinner and her constant calls. If he goes for a walk, more often than not she's there ready to waylay him. You needn't look at me like that. William hasn't said a word to me about it, but I've noticed. You can't tell me it's accidental! If he takes my advice, he won't have anything to do with her.'

‘What on earth has Mrs Fenton done to put your back up so?' asked Lady Deardon. ‘Her manners are perfectly acceptable, and if she is a touch sure of herself
she has every reason to be—beautiful, charming, still young…and rich. Is it such a bad thing if she is attracted to William?'

‘I've told you before, I don't like her and I don't like her visitors, either.'

‘You mean her brother and that friend of his?'

‘He may be her brother for all I know, but he's no gentleman. Nor is the friend. They may be rich, but they're a rum lot. They hardly ever show their faces during the day, but I've caught the other one out in the middle of the night. He didn't know I'd seen him.'

‘And what were you doing out in the middle of the night, my love?' asked his wife.

‘Went down to the stables to see how Duchess was doing with her new pups. Saw the fellow sneaking back through the fields. I don't know what he had been up to, but I can't think it was anything good. I tell you I don't like him. Don't like any of 'em. Keep them selves to them selves too much for my taste.'

‘The man's behaviour does sound a bit odd,' said Lady Deardon. ‘But if the rest of the neighbourhood has your opinion of them I'm not surprised they keep them selves to them selves! You cannot say that of Mrs Fenton, however. She seems very interested in taking her place in local society. She was at Mrs Gosworth's last week and visited the Langleys the week before.'

William asked, ‘When did Mrs Fenton say she would call?'

‘Early afternoon. She seemed to be slightly put out when I told her you were showing Charlwood to the Winbolts today, and said she would positively insist you take her there tomorrow afternoon.'

‘That's what I meant,' said Sir Reginald. coming to life again. ‘Encroaching ways. You wouldn't catch
Emily Winbolt behaving like that. Good breeding, good back ground. Always a lady. Knows how to behave.
And
she inherited her mother's fortune. She has a lot more to offer than the Fenton woman, Will. It's the Winbolt girl you should be settling on. She's a lady of quality.'

Reggie would be shocked to the core of his conventional soul if he knew just how un lady like Emily Winbolt's behaviour could be, thought William, sup pressing a smile. But Sir Reginald's instinct was sound. She was indeed a lady of quality.

 

Mrs Fenton called and, as predicted, demanded that William take her to Charlwood. ‘For you promised you would, sir,' she said, wagging an admonitory finger. ‘I have been waiting this age for you to invite me. And now I hear that you have already taken the Winbolts. It's too bad of you.'

Her play fully reproachful manner was so artificial that it put William off, but he responded with a suitably chastened air as he replied, ‘Mrs Fenton, how can I expect you to forgive me? I had no idea that my poor rundown property would arouse such rivalry. In my own defence I have to say that yesterday was more in the nature of business. I invited the Winbolts to advise me on garden design—Miss Winbolt is particularly expert in the art. May I help you into the carriage?'

Mrs Fenton settled herself grace fully, her pink-lined parasol care fully shading her face. ‘I wish you had consulted me first, Sir William. I, too, have always been keenly interested in gardens. They are so restful. One can forget the world in a garden, do you not think so? One is so close to nature—the scents, the colours, the play of light and shade. It is all so
up lifting
… And I am sure Charlwood's gardens are delightful.' She turned
and put her hand on his arm. ‘You must let me help you a little, too. I flatter myself I have an excellent eye for colour.'

They were now well on the road to Charlwood and William took time to negotiate a cross roads before he replied. He said care fully, ‘I shall be happy to hear your advice when the time comes. But Miss Winbolt—'

Mrs Fenton bit her lip and said with something of a snap, ‘Oh, you mustn't think I am trying to deprive Emily Winbolt of her occupation. Poor, dear Rosa Winbolt must be so
relieved
that her sister-in-law's interest is at last turning to something other than Shearings. I hear they have been at odds over running the house there ever since Rosa arrived.'

‘Indeed? Where did you hear that? From what I saw yesterday, they are very good friends.'

‘They were putting on company manners, I expect. Believe me, I have it on the best authority that at home they are positively at daggers drawn.'

‘Whose authority is that?'

Mrs Fenton began to realise that her conversation was not having the desired effect. William's voice was decidedly frosty. She said earnestly, ‘Oh, I am no gossip, Sir William. It was told me in confidence and my lips are sealed. I would not mention the Winbolt business to everyone, I assure you, but I knew I could trust
you
not to repeat it.' After a quick glance at William's face she went on, ‘What delightful views there are. How much further is it to Charlwood?'

The rest of the drive was accompanied by the lady's light chatter about the scenery. As they drew in through Charlwood's gates William said, ‘Tell me, Mrs Fenton, what is it about Charlwood that interests you so much? Only the garden? I'm afraid the main house is not yet
ready for visitors, but I could show you the Dower House if you wish. It should soon be ready for occupation. I want a word with my caretakers so we shall have to call there.'

‘Occupation? By whom? Surely you are not going to live there yourself?'

‘Why not?'

‘I thought you owned Charlwood.'

‘I do. But renovating such a big house is a long and costly business. It will be some time before I am able to live in it, perhaps as much as a year.'

‘I see.' Maria Fenton's tone was thoughtful.

William showed her the Dower House as promised, but her mind was not on the charms of what was quite a small house. She returned to the subject of Charlwood as soon as they set off up the drive. ‘So Charlwood is to remain unoccupied for some time yet?'

‘Unfortunately, yes.' William eyed her curiously. ‘Is there something wrong with that?'

‘Oh no! No, how could there be? It's just that I find it such a pity…'

‘It won't be neglected. I have men working on it at the moment.'

‘Yes, of course. And a care taker, too, I dare say.' Mrs Fenton perhaps felt that she was appearing to be too curious, and she gave a little laugh and said, ‘Oh, forgive me, Sir William. I always have such an affinity for houses that need our love and attention. I knew Charlwood when I was a girl and it affects me to see it in ruins.'

William laughed. ‘Of course, your family comes from Stoke Harborne. Did your brother live there, too?'

‘My bro—? Oh, yes, my brother. Or rather, my brother-in-law. No, he has lived in London all his life.'

‘I see. And your friend? Does he also come from London?'

‘My friend? I don't think… Oh, you mean Walter's friend. Yes, he does.' She smiled provocatively. ‘I do believe you are jealous, Sir William! But you have no need. Walter's visitor is an old friend of the Fentons, nothing more. But we were talking about Charlwood… Is it really a ruin now?'

‘Far from it. But if it is to be a home for the family, it will have to be perfectly restored. Now, do you wish to see the gardens?'

 

The tour William gave his com pan ion was shorter, but followed much the same course as the day before. He enjoyed it very much less. In spite of her claims, Maria Fenton showed little interest in the garden and none at all in the views, but it was apparently true that she loved the house. She would have wandered all over the ground floor if he had let her. When they reached the salon she exclaimed at the state of the walls, and walked round examining them, picking up some of the pictures, knocking on the plaster and tapping the wood to see, she said, how much repair they would need. He found it even odder when she examined every picture in minute detail.

‘If you do not need my help with the gardens, perhaps you would allow me to advise you on schemes for re storing—and especially deco rating—Charlwood, sir. I am thought to be something of an expert on interiors. I cannot tell you how many of my friends have been grateful for my advice. These pictures, for example. Would you like to have them restored?'

She was becoming increasingly flirtatious, too, and William was discovering that for all her charm, Mrs
Fenton bored him. Her manner was brittle, altogether too artificial, too contrived, and he had a strong feeling that there was more behind her interest in Charlwood than she had admitted. Disliking the situation, he said drily, ‘Thank you, ma'am. You are very kind. But I have already engaged a firm from London to carry out the restoration work. And the time to discuss schemes for decoration can wait till I have chosen a wife.'

Still too sure of her ability to fascinate to see this as the snub it was, she opened her eyes wide and breathed dramatically, ‘So it's true? You intend to marry? Dare I ask who the lucky lady is?'

‘Since it is not yet decided, I'm afraid I can't answer you.'

‘Really? You haven't decided? How very interesting!' After a short silence the lady went on, ‘Sir William, you and I are such old friends by now that I feel I can be frank with you. I so wish I could be the chatelaine of this lovely house! I can think of no better use for my fortune.' She sighed. ‘So much money is a burden to me, Sir William. I some times wish Edric had left me less well endowed. But to use it to restore a house like Charlwood to its former glory would be a dream come true. You say you haven't yet chosen a wife. Then think, my friend. Think of what we could do together…' She leaned towards him, and he caught a breath of her perfume.

William wondered why it was that a movement like that from Emily Winbolt could set him alight, when the lady in front of him evoked only a feeling of distaste. He took a step back and said with a small bow, ‘I'm afraid I can't offer you Charlwood, Mrs Fenton. Nor anything else. But I am sure there are other houses in
need of your care. And your money. I hope you find one to satisfy you. Shall we return to the carriage?'

This time she could not help but be aware of his rejection. The colour ran high in her cheeks and her voice was shrill as she snapped, ‘My word, sir, you are very blunt!'

‘I think it best to be plain when it seems necessary, ma'am.'

She turned away and with a flounce of her skirts said, ‘Necessary? What do you mean, necessary? I hope you don't think my offer of help was anything more than a neighbourly gesture? You have completely misunderstood me, sir.
You
may be looking for a wife, but, I assure you,
I
have no intention of seeking another husband!'

‘Of course not,' he said soothingly. ‘The idea is absurd. Tell me, are you planning to go to the Harbornes' next month?'

 

On the way home William determinedly confined his conversation to strictly neutral topics such as conjectures about the weather or the harvest, or future events in the county, to which Mrs Fenton's responses were almost non-existent. Her attitude implied that he was unworthy of any further consideration. But when he saw her to her door and took his leave, she thanked him with a tight little smile and wished him success with his plans for house and gardens. ‘Especially those involving Emily Winbolt,' she said before she went indoors.

As he drove back to his godmother's, William was coming to the conclusion that he had been much mistaken in Mrs Fenton. He had thought her the sort of society charmer with whom he had enjoyed many a light flirtation in the past. But today he had seen ugliness
under that beautiful surface. Her last words had had a distinct under tone of malice in them, and the smile had been more than a touch poisonous. She was furious, of course, that he had turned down her veiled proposal. But he was sure it had been her pride, not her heart, which had suffered—she would soon recover. All he need do was avoid her as much as possible in the future. She couldn't really do him much harm, and he had at least put an end to her desire to see Charlwood.

 

In that he was wrong. Mrs Fenton swept into her salon and, angrily pulling off her gloves, said, ‘It's no use. The place is in chaos, and I wasn't able to get near any of it except the big room at the back. And you needn't expect me to spend any more time on that conceited oaf, either.'

‘Poor Sis! Turned you down, did he?' asked the gentle man sprawling in one of the arm chairs. ‘I told you it was a bad idea.'

‘Don't call me Sis! It's vulgar. And I don't know why you think it was such a bad idea. Most men are easy enough to attract. But he has his eye on the Winbolt creature, I'll swear. I can't imagine why. She's a cold fish if ever I saw one.'

‘Maybe he thinks she's richer?'

‘Probably. I'll have to think of something else. Or Kidman will just have to find another way to stop them from moving into Charlwood.'