Kiss from a Stranger Read online

“He must have enjoyed having them,” Shenda remarked.

  “He did indeed,” Mrs. Davison replied, “and when his Lordship was ill they kept coming because nobody cancelled the order, so they’re right up to date, so to speak.”

  The cartoons told Shenda a great deal about what was known as the Beau Ton and even though she knew that they were a cruel exaggeration, she felt she had something to learn from them.

  There was so much to learn too from the books in the library, which were a joy and a delight to her.

  She had packed up every one of her father’s books, determined to keep them, whatever happened.

  The library in The Castle was not only enormous, but until last year, when he became too ill to carry on, there had been a Curator.

  He had bought, as he had been instructed to do, books of interest as soon as they were published.

  To Shenda it was like being given the keys to Heaven and she would take half-a-dozen books at a time up to her room.

  When she had finished what work she had to do, she would read and read.

  She found herself in a new world and one that she realised carried on her education where it had ended with her father’s death.

  When she had been young, she had been taught by the schoolmaster, an old Governess who had retired into one of the cottages in the village and her father.

  She wanted to learn and she thought that there was so much to know that there were not enough hours in the day in which to absorb it all.

  It was all part of the dream world she entered when she was in the wood.

  Every book she read at The Castle so far had made her realise how much more there was to explore and discover.

  “One thing’s going to mean more work!” Mrs. Davison was saying.

  “What is that?” Shenda asked.

  “Lady Gratton’s come without her lady’s maid! She had an accident, so they tells me, just before her Ladyship was ready to leave London.”

  She sighed.

  “That’ll leave me short-handed, because Rosie’ll have to attend to her Ladyship and, if I knows anything about these ‘ladies of quality’, it’s that they want attention twenty-four hours a day!”

  Because she was annoyed, Mrs. Davison almost flounced out of the room, leaving Shenda alone, as she looked after the housekeeper a little ruefully.

  She knew that it would be a mistake for her to try to see the beautiful ladies who were the Earl’s guests.

  She must keep out of sight and they were something she would never see, any more than she would see the Earl.

  ‘I must be very very careful!’ she admonished herself.

  She spoke aloud and at the sound of her voice Rufus jumped up from the chair beside her to put one of his paws on her knee.

  “I must be very careful!” she said to him. “And so must you! If you bark and his Lordship hears it, he may say he does not want strange dogs in his house! You might be banished to the stables!”

  Because it was something she could not bear to think of, she picked the little dog up in her arms and held him close to her.

  “Also,” she went on, “we might be sent away and that must not happen!”

  She kissed the top of his head.

  “I love it here,” she said softly. “You are well fed and so am I, so we must both be very good and very very careful!”

  Chapter Four

  The Earl, looking down the table in the great dining room, felt that this was a scene he could remember peeping at from the Minstrel’s Gallery when he was a small boy.

  He used to slip up the small staircase and peep through the carved oak screen at the dinner parties given by his mother and father.

  He always thought that his father, sitting at the head of the table in a chair carved with the family arms, looked like a King.

  His mother, in a glittering tiara with diamonds at her throat, had come earlier to his bedroom to kiss him goodnight.

  “You look like a fairy Princess, Mama!” he told her once and she had laughed.

  She would hold him close in her arms and he thought that, when she died, that he would always remember her softness and sweetness and no other woman could ever be like her.

  At the moment he was thinking that Lucille and his other lady guests were, without exception, the most beautiful women gathered together that he could ever imagine.

  With fair, dark or fiery red hair, each one of them had a captivating beauty that would be hard for a man to resist.

  Especially, he thought with a twist of his lips, one who had been at sea for so long.

  When the Armistice had come in 1802, he had not returned to England as so many other Naval Commanders were able to do.

  First, because his ship was ordered to remain somewhere in the Mediterranean and secondly, because, if he was granted leave, he wanted to see a part of the world that had not been conquered and spoilt by Napoleon.

  He had therefore visited Egypt and Constantinople and found a great deal to interest him in Greece. These countries and their peoples seemed to open up new horizons in his mind and he had not regretted being away from home for so long.

  When he did expect there would be a chance to return, it was too late. Napoleon declared war and Admiral Nelson needed him.

  It was difficult to believe as course followed course and the wines from his father’s cellars were being poured out on Bates’s instructions that there was a war going on.

  The conversation from the spectacular and sophisticated women, as the Earl expected, managed to have a double entendre in most of what was said.

  Their eyes and lips said a great deal more than was put into words.

  “What are we going to do tomorrow?” Lucille Gratton, who was seated on his right, asked.

  She had already made it clear what they were doing tonight.

  “I have a great deal to show you on my estate,” the Earl answered, “and indeed much to see for myself. There used to be a Grecian Temple at the end of the garden and a watchtower at the top of the wood, where I remember my mother sometimes arranged picnics.”

  “You shall show them to me,” Lucille said softly, “and, of course, alone.”

  The Earl wondered if that would make them too conspicuous.

  He also had every intention of visiting the stables with Perry.

  That would, of course, be done before the ladies condescended to appear downstairs.

  He thought that it was an activity he would suggest after breakfast, a meal that he was sure would be attended only by the male members of his party.

  When at the end of dinner the ladies left the dining room, there was no need for Lucille to say in a whisper,

  “Don’t be long, darling Durwin. You know I want you to be with me.”

  It was something the Earl wanted too and now tables for cards were arranged in an anteroom off the drawing room.

  It was obvious, however, that most members of the party were wondering how soon they could decently retire and the ladies led the way.

  The gentlemen lingered downstairs for a last nightcap and it was then that Perry said to the Earl,

  “You are, as I expected, an excellent host, Durwin. I have never enjoyed a better dinner!”

  “Nor have I!” another guest joined in.

  “I shall have some surprises for you tomorrow,” the Earl replied, “but you will have to thank Perry for them more than me.”

  Perry smiled.

  “I can only say – give me the right ingredients and I will provide a good meal!”

  They laughed at this and went up to bed, joking together until the Earl said goodnight and walked into the Master suite.

  When he was undressed and his valet had left him, he knew it was only a step from his room into the Queen Elizabeth room next door.

  Lucille was waiting for him.

  She flung out her arms and threw back her head to lift her lips to his.

  The Earl had the strange feeling that she was like a tigress grasping hungrily at her prey.

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  “He’s a hero, that’s what he is!” Mrs. Davison said. “And if the nation knew all that his Lordship has been a-doing, there’d be a statue erected to him as sure as eggs is eggs!”

  Mrs. Davison had been relating to Shenda the stories the Earl’s valet had been telling them downstairs of his exploits against the French.

  There was one that Shenda found particularly fascinating.

  English ships had blockaded a dozen French ships of the line in a harbour.

  The Earl had then sailed into the port in a French frigate that he had captured and, before they had any idea of his presence, he had blown up two French first rates.

  “His Lordship’s valet was saying,” Mrs. Davison related, “that the Captain, as he was then, calls for volunteers and tells them there was every chance they wouldn’t come back alive. Yet every man in the ship wanted to accompany him!”

  “He could not take them all?” Shenda asked.

  “No, he picked a dozen of those who’d been with him the longest and they set off at midnight, when they thought the Frenchies’d be asleep.”

  “And they blew up two ships of the line!” Shenda exclaimed.

  “Two of the biggest!” Mrs. Davison elaborated with relish. “Then before their crews realised what was happening, they sailed off again with only one mast down and two men injured.”

  This was one of a number of stories that Shenda was to hear.

  She could understand that, after each one of them had been repeated round The Castle, it was difficult for anybody to talk of anything else.

  ‘I must see him,’ she told herself.

  At the same time she was afraid that if he sent her away, refusing to employ what Mrs. Davison called a ‘lady in a subservient position’, it would break her heart.

  ‘I must be – careful,’ she urged herself again as she had told Rufus last night.

  It was only when she knew that the whole house party had gone driving after an early luncheon that she ventured into the garden.

  Even then she kept to the shrubbery, which led her to the wood before she told Rufus he could run about and exercise his legs.

  The woods at the back of The Castle were not as magic to her as the Knights’ Wood near the Vicarage.

  But there was still an enchantment about them that made Shenda lose herself once more in her dreams.

  Only when they had been away from The Castle for nearly two hours did she hurry back just in case some of the house party returned early from wherever it was they had gone.

  She suspected and later found she was right, that they had driven on what was a delightful track across the Park.

  It led through the woods, then up onto a high piece of land where the Watch Tower stood.

  It had been erected by Sir Justin Bow who, having built his castle, still wanted a place he could see the sea from.

  History related that there were guards on duty watching the Danes, in case they again invaded his land.

  Shenda had often been in the Watch Tower and she thought that either Sir Justin had very good eyes or some kind of telescope even in those early times.

  Only on the clearest of days could one see the sea like a streak of light in the far distance.

  The Watch Tower itself was unique, although she imagined the beautiful ladies in their elegant gowns would find it difficult to climb the twisting stone steps that led to the top of the Tower without getting dirty.

  ‘I expect the gentlemen will be only too willing to help them,’ she thought with a little smile. ‘Or else they will sit in the guard room below, where it was always believed Sir Justin kept a number of archers ready to go into battle at a moment’s notice.’

  She and Rufus reached The Castle and went in through the garden door and up a staircase that was seldom used.

  She had been in her sewing room for only two or three minutes when Mrs. Davison came bustling in.

  “Oh, there you are, Miss Shenda!” she said. “I’ve got a job for you.”

  “What is it?” Shenda asked.

  Mrs. Davison held out a pretty reticule that was made of satin and trimmed with tiny rows of lace.

  “This belongs to Lady Gratton,” she said, “and that stupid Rosie, believe it or not, has caught the lace on the corner of the drawer when she was putting it away.”

  Shenda took the reticule from her.

  “It’s only a small tear,” she said, “and I will mend it so that her Ladyship will have no idea that such a thing has ever happened!”

  “It’s always the same with these maids!” Mrs. Davison said crossly. “They’re always in far too much of a hurry, wanting to get downstairs and talk to the men, that’s what’s at the bottom of it!”

  “Accidents happen to everybody, so tell Rosie not to be upset,” Shenda suggested. “And bring me anything else that needs mending because I have nothing to do at the moment.”

  “Well then, you can get on with that gown you’re making for yourself,” Mrs. Davison said. “I provided you with the material and the sooner I see you in it the better!”

  “Actually, it’s finished!” Shenda admitted.

  “There! What do you think of that! I don’t believe old Maggie could have made a dress quicker!”

  “I will put it on tonight and show you,” Shenda said. “Actually, I am very proud of it!”

  “I’ve got some more stuff ready for another one,” Mrs. Davison answered.

  “You are too kind and I will pay you for it when I receive my first wages.”

  “You’ll do nothing of the sort!” Mrs. Davison asserted. “And anyway, it’s not my material. It’s what’s been rotting away in the cupboard for years! I can’t now remember what we bought it for. I expect her Ladyship had some idea of how she wished to use it.”

  She glanced at the clock as she finished speaking and gave an exclamation.

  “His Lordship’s party’ll be coming back for tea and I’ve not yet finished inspecting the bedrooms. I can’t trust these young maids to leave everything perfect and that’s a fact!”

  As she hurried from the room, Shenda gave a little laugh.

  She knew that Mrs. Davison, after years of only having three old maids under her who she knew worked as well as she did, enjoyed ordering about the new maids who had just come from the village.

  They were thrilled at being engaged at The Castle and, when Mrs. Davison bullied them, they accepted it as part of their position, which considerably enhanced their standing amongst the villagers.

  Sitting down at the table, which was in the window, Shenda inspected the damaged reticule.

  She had learnt that Lady Gratton had worn a gown of emerald green gauze at dinner last night and the slip beneath it was so transparent that Mrs. Davison had said she might as well have been naked!

  Because she had given her extra work, Mrs. Davison did not admire Lady Gratton as much as she did two of the other ladies.

  Also, although she did not say so, Shenda guessed she thought that however beautiful she was, she was not good enough for the Earl.

  He had now assumed a kind of Godlike position in Mrs. Davison’s mind and she obviously thought that the only woman who would be good enough for him or would be his equal, would be a Queen or at least a Goddess!

  The reticule was made of green satin which was the same colour as the gown that Mrs. Davison had been so scathing about.

  The narrow lace that ran round it in rows was, she knew, handmade and must have been very expensive. She found some silk thread in her work basket that matched it.

  Opening the top of the reticule, which was pulled together by a ribbon that a lady could hold over her arm, Shenda was aware that there were some objects inside it.

  She carefully took them out.

  There was a handkerchief edged with lace and exquisitely embroidered with Lady Gratton’s initials.

  There was a tiny gold box containing lip salve and another larger box that was rather like a snuffbox that her Ladyship used for powder.
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  Shenda looked at them with interest, thinking that they were a very luxurious way of carrying cosmetics.

  She found one box had a clasp set with diamonds, while the other had the initial ‘L’ on it in sapphires.

  ‘I suppose they were presents from her husband,’ she told herself.

  Then, as she put her hand under the framework to hold it firm so as to mend the lace on the outside, she sensed that there was something else in the bag.

  It was only a small piece of paper and she drew it out in case she should tear it by mistake.

  It was folded over and, when she opened it out, she saw to her surprise that there were a number of words in French written in a small but strong handwriting.

  Forgetting it was perhaps private, she read,

  “Ou se trouve le groupe de l’Expedition

  Secrète? Cinq cents livres.

  Pour decouvrir l’emplacement de Nelson. Cent livres.”

  Shenda read it and read it again and told herself that she must be imagining what she saw.

  Then she knew unmistakably that what she had inadvertently stumbled upon was a request from a French spy to Lady Gratton and she was very intimate with the Earl!

  And five hundred pounds was a seriously huge amount of money.

  If anybody knew the answers to these questions, then it would be he.

  She read the message over and over again before putting the paper on the table under the handkerchief and starting to mend Lady Gratton’s reticule.

  It did not take her long and, when she had finished it, she put the little boxes and the handkerchief back.

  Then she knew with a sudden constriction of her heart that she had to warn the Earl.

  She went to a desk that Mrs. Davison had arranged for her in the corner of the room and, picking up her pen, copied exactly and in the same handwriting the words on the piece of paper.

  As she returned the piece of paper to the reticule, she was frightened because she had to face the Earl.

  It was one thing to hide from him because she had no wish to have to leave The Castle.

  It was quite another to be in possession of the knowledge that one of his visitors was spying for the French of which he was not aware.

  The difficulty, she knew, would be to see the Earl alone without the household thinking it very strange, as the majority of the servants believed that she was only a seamstress.