A Heaven on Earth Page 13

  “And I am most truly blessed,” sighed Miss Morris, with a catch in her voice, “as I have also cared for you, my dear Mr. Bramley, yet never could I have believed in this happiness you bring me.”

  Aurora smiled at them and made a hasty exit from the parlour, as with each passing minute she felt that her presence was more and more superfluous.

  She ran up the stairs to her room, suddenly feeling unaccountably sad.

  It was delightful to see them so deliciously happy and yet she just could not help but feel even more alone and bereft of love herself.

  Phyllis was there, sitting by the fire in her room and mending silk stockings.

  She looked up when Aurora entered, but did not say anything.

  “Miss Morris and Mr. Bramley are going to be wed, Phyllis. What do you think of that?”

  Phyllis shook her head and tutted, carrying on with her sewing.

  “Are you all right, Phyllis? You seem to have been very quiet of late.”

  Phyllis sighed.

  “I am very happy for them, to be sure, Miss Aurora, for two nicer people I could not wish to meet. But what about us two spinsters? When shall we be wed?”

  Phyllis looked so comically sad that Aurora found herself wanting to laugh, but she could not hurt her maid’s feelings.

  “I am so sorry,” she said instead, “I did not realise you felt like that.”

  “I did hope,” sighed Phyllis, “that when you helped that poor sad woman, Emily, to move on to the other side, takin’ all her grief and misery with her, that things might start to work out a bit for us – ”

  Aurora sighed as well and then she shivered as she suddenly remembered Lord Moreton’s rough hands forcing the emeralds around her neck.

  “You know, Phyllis, I think being a spinster may be far more pleasant than being married to someone you don’t like!”

  “That’s all very well for you to say, Miss Aurora, for you have many years of your youth ahead of you.”

  Phyllis stabbed her needle into the stocking she was darning.

  “But surely it is not too late for you either? You are not so old, Phyllis, you could marry and have a family too if you wished.”

  “It be a near thing,” mumbled Phyllis and then she suddenly smiled, “but if truth be told, I would find it hard to up and leave you after all these years.”

  Aurora was pleased to see her maid more cheerful, as she knew that since they had been in Cornwall, Phyllis had been to visit some of her brothers and sisters.

  And it had been hard for her to see them with their own young families growing up, while she had devoted all the best years of her life to Aurora and her mother.

  She sat down on the little sofa and looked out over the garden, but even the sight of a large flock of small birds playing in the trees could not lift her spirits.

  It was all very well for Phyllis to tell her that she was young and had plenty of time ahead of her, but the heavy sadness that filled her heart told her that she would never be able to marry.

  ‘I have met the one man I could love,’ she mused, ‘and he despises me – because he believes I have promised myself to another man. And even if I had turned my back on Lord Moreton, the Earl would still think badly of me, as I would have broken my word.’

  There was nothing for it but to accept her situation with good grace and to give her every support and blessing to the kindly Miss Morris and her husband-to-be.

  *

  Over the next few days Aurora had her work cut out, as Miss Morris was thrown into a panic at the idea of her impending wedding and had no idea of how a bride-to-be should behave.

  She was determined to be married in her old grey Sunday dress and it took all Aurora’s patience to persuade her that it would be proper and fitting for her to wear a wedding gown.

  Miss Morris finally agreed to a modestly cut satin wedding dress.

  “But it must be in grey,” she persisted, alarmed by Aurora’s suggestion of cream or ivory as possible colours. “Pale grey, if you insist, but I do not want to look anything out of the ordinary.”

  “But it’s your day,” urged Aurora, “and everyone will be expecting you to look lovely.”

  But Miss Morris simply blushed and looked most uncomfortable.

  So it was left to Aurora and Phyllis to arrange with the local dressmaker to make the simple elegant dress.

  Aurora offered to trim the dress herself, and several days later she was sitting in the parlour, sewing small silk flowers onto the sleeves of the gown, when she heard an unfamiliar knock at the door.

  ‘Who can that possibly be?’ she wondered. ‘It is not Mr. Bramley as he always raps three times.’

  Miss Morris came hurrying into the parlour.

  “Aurora. You have a visitor. A gentleman!”

  Aurora jumped to her feet, spilling silk flowers all over the carpet and the armchairs.

  It must be Lord Moreton!

  Somehow he had been able to find her.

  Maybe he had discovered the necklace, or traced his two coach horses to this remote part of Cornwall?

  “No!” she exclaimed. “I cannot see him – ”

  But she was too late.

  A tall figure was now striding through the door and approaching her, blocking out the light from the window as he stood before her.

  “Miss Hartnell,” came a deep resonant voice.

  It was the Earl.

  Aurora sat right down again, her legs trembling and her breath catching in her throat.

  She clutched the grey silk gown to her.

  Where was Miss Morris?

  Why had she not stayed in the parlour?

  “I must speak with you,” the Earl began in a cold flat voice.

  Aurora looked up at him for a second and saw that his dark eyes were as dull and hard as stones.

  ‘Truly,’ she told herself, ‘he despises me for all the light and joy has vanished from his face.’

  “Whatever that strange piece of frippery is that you are clutching – it will be ruined,” he commented, a sharp note of impatience in his voice.

  “Oh!”

  Aurora looked down and saw that the grey silk was being badly creased as she twisted it in her hands.

  “It is Miss Morris’s wedding dress!”

  She could not believe how cold and harsh the Earl sounded, and how different he now seemed from the man she remembered so incredibly well – the courteous, lively and handsome gentleman riding with her through the snow.

  “Ah, the wedding,” sighed the Earl, “the fortuitous wedding – without which I should never have found you.”

  “Mr. – Bramley’s cousin – ” stammered Aurora.

  “Yes, indeed, my chaplain. He has told me that you were here at Treworra House.”

  Aurora glanced at him again, but the Earl was now looking down at the carpet.

  “I have some news for you, Miss Hartnell. Perhaps I may be seated?”

  “Of course.”

  Aurora hastened to clear away the silk flowers from the armchair opposite her and the Earl sat down.

  “I have come directly from Hadleigh Hall, where I have seen your father.”

  “Papa!” cried Aurora, suddenly fearful.

  “He is very sick and the doctors hold out little hope that he will live beyond the month.”

  Aurora gasped and tried to hold back the tears that began to spill down her cheeks.

  “I do wish I could go to him,” she whispered, “poor Papa.”

  The Earl stood up again and began to pace up and down the parlour.

  “This is why I have come for you,” he continued. “Your stepmother has gone!”

  “Gone?” echoed Aurora.

  “She is in Monte Carlo,”

  The Earl ran a hand through his dark hair,

  “With your fiancé, Lord Moreton!”

  “But – how? How did this happen?” asked Aurora, her heart pounding.

  “After you abandoned him, Lord Moreton went to his house in London
– ”

  The Earl looked away from her as he continued to pace up and down,

  “And, in the manner of one heartbroken, he took to playing at cards. He then struck very lucky and with his winnings, he has gone off and eloped to the Continent with Lady Hartnell.”

  Aurora dropped the wedding dress and pressed her hands against her cheeks.

  “I don’t believe you!”

  “He is apparently well known in London Society as a gambler,” the Earl added, and she detected a flash of scorn in his dark eyes.

  Aurora breathed deeply, trying to calm herself.

  “Why, I must go to Papa! I must be with him.”

  The Earl was looking at her gravely and she flushed as she felt the intensity of his stare.

  “He needs you, Miss Hartnell, and my carriage will be here directly to take you to Hadleigh Hall.”

  His lips twisted in a wry smile.

  “But what of your betrothed, Lord Moreton? Do you feel nothing at his desertion?”

  Aurora felt her face turn fiery red with shame and embarrassment and she wished that the parlour floor would open up and swallow her.

  “Perhaps I am speaking out of turn,” the Earl added sarcastically, “as this is clearly a matter of some delicacy.”

  He moved towards the door.

  “My compliments to you, Miss Hartnell. As I have indicated my carriage is at your disposal and I suggest that you leave at your earliest convenience.”

  And then he was gone, leaving Aurora trembling on the sofa.

  ‘I must try to collect myself,’ she determined, as she gathered up the wedding dress tenderly, collecting all the little silk flowers.

  ‘How strange that he should find me here, like this, working on another woman’s wedding dress.’

  Then she thought of the hard cold way that the Earl had looked at her and the tears she had been trying to hold back slid down her cheeks.

  ‘He thinks the worst of me. He believes me to be fickle and dishonest. And yet he came all this way to find me and to tell me about Papa’s illness!’

  Aurora sprang to her feet and ran to the front door.

  The Earl was standing by the garden gate, looking out over the green fields, as he waited for his mount.

  She ran to his side, her face hot with shyness.

  “Thank you very much, my Lord,” she struggled to keep her voice calm, “for coming to tell me about Papa’s illness and for offering me your carriage. I am most deeply grateful to you.”

  The Earl started, as he had not heard her coming up behind him and then he looked down at her.

  “It is all my pleasure, although perhaps you would rather abandon the carriage and take one of my horses, as from what I have heard, I think it might suit you better to make the journey at a wild gallop!”

  And suddenly he smiled at her and his eyes shone with life and humour just as she remembered him.

  Aurora bit her lip and did not know where to look, as there was such pain and confusion in her heart that she almost thought she would faint.

  The Earl reached down and took her hand and she felt her whole body thrill at his warm touch.

  “I wish you a safe journey, Miss Hartnell,” he said, still smiling, “but I would advise you to make use of my carriage.”

  Aurora could not speak, but she nodded, and then looked up, meeting his dark gaze for a second.

  As they both looked into each other’s eyes, she felt a strange sensation pass through her.

  It was as if she was gazing into the eyes of someone most dear and familiar to her, someone she had known for all of her life and for all Eternity.

  And then he released her hand, as Miss Morris’s groom was approaching with the Earl’s horse and Aurora watched him leap into the saddle and race away across the fields.

  *

  From time to time throughout the carriage journey back to Hadleigh Hall, Aurora felt again the sensation she had experienced when the Earl had taken her hand.

  She knew that she was sitting upon the same velvet cushions he had rested on and was looking out through the same window that he must have gazed out of many times.

  But in spite of this comfort, her heart was torn with fear and anxiety for her poor Papa and their slow lurching journey over muddy roads seemed interminable.

  At last they were there and, as the wheels crunched over the gravel drive, Aurora sprang down from the Earl’s carriage, deeply relieved to see that her father’s bedroom window was aglow with candlelight.

  ‘He is still with us,’ she whispered to herself, as she ran up the wide staircase, untying her bonnet and flinging it aside as she ran.

  Her father seemed to have grown even thinner and paler over the few weeks she had been away.

  His shrunken frame was propped up on a mountain of soft feather pillows and every breath he took seemed to cause him great difficulty.

  “Papa,” murmured Aurora, falling to her knees and taking his fragile bony hand in hers.

  “Marianne,” he grunted, “is it you?”

  Aurora felt a tear slip down her cheek.

  “Papa, it is not dear Mama, it is me, Aurora. I have come home to look after you.”

  His pale eyes blinked at her and then he sighed as if in relief.

  Aurora felt his grip tighten round her hand and next he fell back on the pillows and seemed to sleep.

  *

  For seven days and nights Aurora remained at her father’s side.

  The doctor came, stout and severe in his long black coat, and informed her gravely that Lord Hartnell was very sick with pneumonia and without constant care and love he might never recover.

  “It is a great killer of the elderly,” he intoned after spending a good deal of time at Lord Hartnell’s bedside, “and of those who believe they are alone in the world.”

  “Papa, you are not alone,” Aurora whispered after the doctor had left, “for I am with you and will never leave you.”

  After a week of agonised watching and waiting, he seemed to improve somewhat, his breathing became easier and he expressed a desire for beef tea.

  Aurora ordered some immediately from the kitchen and fed him gently from a spoon, as if he was a baby.

  Then she settled him back against his pillows.

  Her head was swimming with tiredness, as she had scarcely dared to sleep herself since she had arrived back at Hadleigh Hall.

  “Miss Aurora, you need some rest,” urged Phyllis, touching her shoulder gently. “I will watch your father for you and call you if you are wanted for anythin’.”

  Aurora thought longingly of her soft feather bed.

  But then she noticed that the sun was shining over the Park and she realised that she had not been out of doors since she had arrived back at Hadleigh Hall.

  She then made her way onto the terrace and stood basking in the spring sunlight, listening to the birds singing as they flitted from branch to branch in the trees.

  Aurora had no idea how long she had been standing there, breathing the sweet air and feeling the warm sun on her cheeks.

  Suddenly she heard the crunch of a footstep behind her and saw a long shadow fall on the terrace beside her.

  “You are lost in a reverie, Miss Hartnell,” came a familiar deep voice.

  It was the Earl’s, and she turned to find that he was standing so close beside her that she could feel the warmth from his body.

  “I am so happy,” she warbled, afraid to look up at him and desperately trying to control her voice, which was trembling, “because I think Papa is getting better at last.”

  The Earl took her hands and turned her to face him.

  Aurora felt herself filling with a wild sweet fire, so that her soul wanted to sing out in ecstasy just like one of the songbirds that flocked through the trees.

  “You have not left his side for days,” the Earl was saying. “I have come many times to try and speak to you, but you were always with him.”

  Aurora suddenly felt confusion and fear wash over he
r, as her sensations were so strong and like nothing she had ever experienced before.

  She raised her head and met the Earl’s dark eyes, looking deep into them and the fear vanished as once again she felt that this man was so familiar to her and that she was safe with him.

  “Your sweetness, your kindness and your integrity have put me to shame, Miss Hartnell.”

  Aurora felt his hands on her shoulders drawing her to him and then the fire inside her grew stronger and more insistent.

  The Earl was still speaking to her urgently and his words seemed to be tumbling over themselves.

  “I have just recently discovered the truth about your stepmother,” he whispered, his breath caressing Aurora’s ear as softly as a feather.

  “She feared that your Papa would die and leave his estate to you. And so she plotted to marry you off to her erstwhile lover, Lord Moreton, so that you could not inherit Hadleigh Hall and it would all go to her.

  “And so when you foiled her little plot by running away and when Moreton came into some money, she took up with him again and fled to Monte Carlo, where I pray they may gamble all his ill-gotten gains away!”

  Aurora gasped with horror and her eyes filled with hot tears that spilled over and ran down her cheeks as she dwelt on what might have happened if she and Phyllis had not been able to outwit Lord Moreton.

  “Don’t weep,” the Earl tried to sooth her. “Sweet one, you are safe now.”

  “But – if you had not stopped the carriage on the road – ”

  Aurora found herself shaking, remembering all the horror of that terrible rain-drenched encounter.

  The Earl bent and touched his lips to Aurora’s wet cheeks.

  Her legs began to give way beneath her at the sweet sensation, but he caught her tightly in his arms.

  “Please forgive me,” he breathed, his voice growing deeper with the intensity of passion, “how could I have left you there with him on that fearsome night?

  “But I was angry with you, so incredibly angry that you had let me down. And then he said that you were his betrothed!”

  “No, it was a terrible mistake – a misunderstanding.”

  She was about to try to explain it all again, when her words were silenced as the Earl fastened his lips on hers in a tender but burning kiss.

  Aurora felt her soul fly to meet his.