Belle (The Daughters of Allamont Hall Book 2) Page 6

  “I do not believe my father would know of anyone suitable,” she said languidly. “Girls, shall we leave Mr Ambleside to his port?”

  ~~~~~

  Mr Turner came promptly the following morning to unlock the money box. Belle and Amy showed him into the book room, and Belle retrieved the box from its hiding place.

  “This is one of mine,” Mr Turner said, running his hands over the wood with obvious delight. “Every carpenter knows the little signs of his own hand. Aye, I well remember choosing the wood for this. It was the first of this type I ever made, although I’d watched my father make them often enough. He made several for the late Mr Allamont, may he rest in peace.”

  “Several?” Belle said in alarm. “Do you mean to tell me there might be more of these?”

  “Oh, aye, my father made a few of these for the Hall, although I don’t know exactly how many and can’t ask, neither, being as he’s dead now, God rest his soul. Passed on last Candlemas, poor man, and him not even sixty.”

  Belle made some sympathetic noises. “And can you unlock it, Mr Turner?”

  “Aye, should be able to. It’s a solid lock, and would defeat all but the most determined thief, but I know the way of it.” He produced some tools from a pocket, a collection of oddly-shaped slivers of metal. “May I sit down to work? It is a little easier.”

  “Of course.”

  Belle and Amy withdrew to the window while the carpenter set about his task. “It is very good of you to be taking on the burden of the accounts, dear sister,” Amy said in a low voice. “I am sure I should not have the least idea how to go on with such matters. I am so thankful that I have Mr Ambleside to take care of everything.”

  “You have indeed been fortunate in your choice of husband, and who could deserve it more than you!” Belle said. “Now my choice of husband is not so capable with money, so it is as well for me to learn how to manage.”

  “You still plan to accept James, then?”

  “I do. It will be a most beneficial arrangement, on both sides.”

  “Now you sound like Mary,” Amy said sadly. “Or Mama. I wish you could find someone to love, dear Belle. You work so hard and never think of yourself, and I do not like to think of you throwing yourself away on Cousin James. Mr Ambleside says he is not at all steady.”

  “Yes, Mary said much the same, as I recall. Young men are often a little wild as they grow up, but marriage and a little more regularity in his life will settle James down. And I shall like to live at Willowbye extremely. It has an excellent library.”

  “Really?” Amy said, looking at her sister doubtfully. “You would wish to leave this house, where we grew up and had so many happy times?”

  “So many—? Your memories must be more pleasant than mine, sister. Did we not tiptoe round the house like little mice so as not to disturb Papa? And every hour of every day with its allotted activities — lessons, music practice, reciting in Greek, and every achievement tested and recorded. Even mealtimes had their fixed topics for discussion, and a sermon or a chapter of a history book to be read later. There was only our hour of needlework each day to look forward to, when we could at least talk freely, and a public ball in Brinchester once a month. Yes, I shall be glad to leave Allamont Hall.”

  “It was so pleasant to have everything orderly,” Amy said. “I liked knowing exactly what I must do each day, and which gown to put on. I shall miss the garden, too, although I have such plans for the grounds at Staynlaw House. Mr Ambleside says that—”

  But at that moment, Mr Turner made an exclamation of triumph. “There, Miss Allamont! The lock is free. You may examine the contents at your pleasure. You’ll not be able to lock it again, not unless you find the key, so you’ll want to keep it safely hidden.”

  “Thank you, I shall. It will go back inside the chair directly.”

  “Aye, that’s a good place for it. I’d not have thought of looking there. I keep my strong box under the floorboards.”

  “Under the floorboards? Really? So the other boxes might even be somewhere in this room?”

  “Oh, aye. All that’s needed is to cut across a board, then lift the loose piece. All kinds of things can be kept secret that way, with a piece of rug to hide the spot.”

  “Thank you, Mr Turner, you have been most helpful.”

  As soon as he had departed, the two ladies turned to the newly opened box. With trembling fingers, Belle lifted the heavy lid. Inside was treasure unimaginable — coins wrapped in cloth, and rolls of notes.

  Amy’s eyes were wide. “Why, there must be hundreds of pounds in here.”

  “Thousands, I hope, for that is what I shall need to settle all our accounts. Oh, look — another key! And not the same as any of the others. Why is there a key in every box, yet none of them work?”

  “But surely it fits this box?” Amy said.

  “How can it? The box was securely locked with the key inside it.”

  Amy’s face fell. “Oh. Of course. How foolish I am.”

  Belle tried it it the lock anyway, and was unsurprised to find it to be of no use. “Well, it is a mystery. Another mystery,” she amended.

  “Oh, Belle, listen! Can you hear a horse coming up the drive? Perhaps it is Mr Ambleside. You will not mind if—?”

  “Indeed, go and meet him, by all means. I am come to the tedious part of the procedure anyway, when I must add up the value of all this money. Run away and enjoy Mr Ambleside’s smiles.”

  Her sister skipped off, her pretty face alight with happiness. Belle sighed. It would be so delightful to fall conveniently in love with an adoring man of handsome appearance and good income, but she had no expectations for herself. If she paraded herself about sufficiently, she would certainly find a husband who would gloat over her fortune while pretending not to mind her unlovely face. That being so, better a man she knew how to manage, with the comfort of familiarity rather than a stranger. Yes, Cousin James would do well enough. But it was disheartening, all the same.

  ~~~~~

  Henry Allamont had not forgotten his promise to speak to Belle about Jack Barnett, and on his next visit to the Hall, he drew her to a quiet corner of the drawing room. She was, as always, neatly dressed in a plain gown with little trimming. On another young woman, it might have looked dowdy, but he thought it suited her very well.

  “I hope you will forgive my intemperate behaviour when last we met, Belle. I should not have acted so, but Sara can be so obstinate. I cannot understand her, and that is the truth of it. She neglects your interests shamefully, and who should have more care for fatherless daughters than their own mother?”

  “You cannot expect me to support you in any censure of Mama,” Belle said. “If that is all you have to say—”

  “I beg your pardon, that was disrespectful of me. Your father kept all of you on a very tight rein, and your mama suffered as much as anyone. It is hardly surprising if… well, no matter. That is not what I intended to discuss.”

  “You wish to talk about Mr Barnett.”

  “I do, for it concerns us all very closely. I have talked to Plumphett about it, and dragged some information out of him, and he confessed that he had discussed the matter with you, in great detail. I am sorry you had to learn such things about your father, Belle, and even more sorry that you were obliged to meet this person. It is not fitting that he should come here, just as if he were a gentleman.”

  “And yet he might be,” she said calmly. “If he inherits Allamont Hall, he will have a very good independent income.”

  “But he will never be accepted into good society,” he said, thumping a fist into his palm so hard he made Belle jump. He took a breath to steady himself. It would never do to lose his temper again. Even though Lady Sara was not present, she was constantly in his mind, her serenity an example he struggled to follow. Even after all these years, her beauty and graceful bearing took his breath away. If only she were more malleable… He brought his thoughts back to the matter at hand with difficulty. “He will never be r
espectable, no matter how large his income.”

  “True, but I do not quite see what is to be done about it,” Belle said. “The law will decide.”

  “But we might assist the law to make its decision,” he said. “We might, for example, engage lawyers to defend the case. We might present evidence that demonstrates that your father did not intend Barnett to inherit. Or we might persuade the man to relinquish his claim.”

  “How might one persuade him if he is determined on this course?”

  He smiled at her innocence. “Offer him money, Belle. A fixed sum, paid into his hand, if he signs an agreement not to pursue his claim. But all of these options would be expensive, and your mama is unwilling to pay a penny piece to him, or to lawyers.”

  “Then that would appear to be the end of the matter.”

  “Not if you girls work on her, talk to her, convince her of the dreadful consequences if this should come to pass.”

  “Mama does not listen to me or to any of us,” Belle said. “She feels it does not concern us, since she has her Dower House and income, and she assumes that we will all be married very soon.”

  “But think how it must drag all of us down, to have such a person living in Allamont Hall. It must have a very damaging effect, and as soon as this young man lodges his claim, it will all be out in the open and your reputations will be irreparably damaged. I have said as much to your mama, but I cannot make her attend to me.”

  Belle was silent, and he felt the subject had been exhausted. “If you will consider all that I have said, I am satisfied, for I can trust to your good sense and your influence on your mama — if any!” he ended, which brought a wan smile. “But there is happier news, I hear. Your dowries will be more than anticipated. I am very glad of it, for all your sakes.”

  “Yes, although it is very surprising that it should change so much in such a short time.”

  “Oh, these funds can be quite inconsistent from one year to the next. It is excellent news for you, since under the terms of your father’s will, you must be the next to marry. You will have a splendid time of it at the balls at the Assembly Rooms this winter, with a string of beaux. Or there is always James, you know. I would be tremendously happy to welcome you to Willowbye.”

  “And I to enter it,” she said.

  He was so startled that he could not find any response.

  She laughed. “That surprises you, I see.”

  “I rather thought the two of you did not get along,” he said. “Have you changed your mind?”

  “I thought that, too,” she said equably. “But seeing Amy and Mr Ambleside so happy together has made me realise that their love is founded on many years of friendship. It would be too easy, I believe, to be drawn to a handsome face and agreeable manners, and quickly find oneself married to a stranger. Better to choose the known quantity, it seems to me, and James has many good qualities which the acquisition of a wife will enhance.” Her smile softened her features. “And especially if the wife has a substantial dowry.”

  He was not sure he agreed with her philosophy, but if she was willing to consider James, he was not going to attempt to dissuade her. So he smiled, and said all that was proper.

  “But of course he will not want me unless he stands to inherit the house, will he?” She sighed. “It is all so uncertain. How much simpler it would have been if Ernest and Frank had not run away, for then the inheritance would be secure and we would not have all these difficulties to worry about.”

  “You would still have your father’s peculiar provisions for you girls,” he said. “And do not imagine that Ernest and Frank would automatically inherit. The will specifies the oldest surviving son. We do not know the date on which this Jack Barnett was born. It is entirely possible that he is older than Ernest and Frank, and would still have a claim.”

  7: Sunday Evening

  The following Sunday evening, Belle was approached by Mr Burford as soon as he entered the room.

  “Good evening, Miss Belle!” he said cheerfully. “I hear that Harry Turner was successful in his mission. I am very glad of it, and I trust your worries are resolved now?”

  “Partially. The box contained…” She lowered her voice, for she did not wish to mention such large sums with the servants moving about the room. “Twelve hundred and forty five pounds, which is enough to settle most of the outstanding accounts, but not quite all. And another key, which again fits no lock I have yet discovered. Good evening to you, Miss Endercott. You are well, I trust?”

  “Quite well, thank you, and very glad of the use of your carriage this evening, for this cold wind is very bad for my brother’s constitution. He is not much prone to fevers or malaise in general, but these easterlies always bring on his cough.”

  “I recall how it troubled him three years ago, when he had no curate to help with the services.”

  “Yes, we are all of us very pleased to have Mr Burford here,” Miss Endercott said. “For many reasons, and not solely on account of Horace’s cough.”

  “We are indeed, and I more than most, just now,” Belle said. “In fact, I fear I may be obliged to accept your kind offer of further assistance, Mr Burford. Mr Turner has informed me that his father made several strong boxes for my father, so the one we have found is not the only one, it seems.”

  “This is excellent news, Miss Belle!” he responded. “Excellent! For it means that your father must have left a great deal of money about the house, somewhere. And you wish me to search a little more? I shall be delighted to assist in whatever manner you require. No rug will be unlifted, no furniture unexamined, no cellar unsearched.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “Not the cellars — not yet! Mr Turner suggested a hiding place under the floorboards.”

  “Oh, indeed, that would be the very place! I shall come tomorrow, Miss Belle.”

  “We have the Deacon visiting tomorrow, John, do you not remember?” Miss Endercott said.

  “Ah, so we do. Tuesday, then, without fail. We shall hunt until we find every last box, Miss Belle, and you have all the money you need, and more.”

  “And a large collection of useless keys,” she said.

  “I am sure they have a purpose,” he said. “Why, it seems likely—”

  At that moment, Hope appeared, and Mr Burford blushed furiously and lost the power of speech.

  “You must not keep Mr Burford all to yourself, Belle,” Hope said. “I am sure he wishes to talk to other people besides you. Miss Endercott, you do not mind if I steal him away? For Grace wishes to tell him all about our progress with the school, you know, which I am sure is of great interest to him. Is it not, Mr Burford?”

  “Oh indeed, M-M-Miss Hope.”

  And with that, she led him away to the fire, where Grace, Connie and Dulcie waited expectantly for his stammering attention.

  Miss Endercott chuckled. “You need not worry, my dear. Hope was barely out for a month before your father’s untimely death. As soon as she discovers the pleasures of balls and card parties and all manner of social engagements, she will find herself surrounded by gentlemen far more tempting than Mr Burford.”

  “More tempting, Miss Endercott? Why, Mr Burford is a gentleman of good sense and breeding. He wants but a larger income, and if his wife may supply that, why, I believe he would make a very desirable husband.”

  Miss Endercott laughed even more, and said, “My thoughts precisely,” leaving Belle entirely bemused.

  ~~~~~

  Burford enjoyed Sundays immensely, naturally, for what could be more delightful than an entire evening in the company of the sweetest, most beautiful young lady imaginable? And her sisters almost as lovely, and all of them good humoured. Yet he always felt out of place surrounded by such a bevy of beauties, who twittered and chattered artlessly in the most enchanting manner. They were very kind, and always included him in their conversations. “Do you not agree, Mr Burford?” they would say, giggling, and he would nod vigorously, and sometimes, when he was not concentrating on his s
peech too hard, he would manage to reply. But mostly he blushed and stuttered and felt exceedingly foolish.

  Now Belle was quite different. She spoke to him about practical matters, and addressed him as if he were a rational person, and it was easy to respond in the same way. He wished sometimes that he could talk to Hope as comfortably as he talked to Belle.

  In his mind, he had a vision of himself and Hope — Mrs Burford, of course, for this was a vision of the future — sitting either side of the fire of an evening, conversing amiably. She would tell him of the children’s progress and how the new housemaid was coming along, and he would tell her of his difficulties with next Sunday’s sermon and the ambiguities of his chosen text.

  But that was where the vision always came to a halt, for not in his wildest dreams could he envisage that Hope would be interested in sermons or Biblical interpretations. He would love to read poetry to her, or extracts from the book he happened to be reading, to share the melody of the words or an arresting idea, but she would be bored, he knew that perfectly well. She was so different from Belle, who had enjoyed his recitation in Brinchester, and had happily argued over the precise meaning of a word or phrase. Yes, his Hope was a delicate creature, not in the least drawn to the intellectual sphere.

  When they went into the dining room, he held back, as always, so that he could take the seat he liked best — opposite Hope, so that he could look at her, could fix that lovely countenance in his mind to sustain him through the week. The arrangement also left him without any obligation to make conversation and embarrass himself by stammering like a fool. There had been a boy at school who had had a dreadful stammer, and had been laughed at mercilessly on account of it. After a term or two, his parents had taken him away. Burford knew just how that boy must have felt, jeered at and ridiculed for something he could not help in the least. Here he was, a sensible, educated man with a profession, who could stand in the pulpit on Sundays and be perfectly articulate. Yet a girl of eighteen summers could reduce him to gibbering incoherence.