Page 22 of The Book of Lost Stories
‘Well, I am sure I hope James’s wife will prove to be as much a friend to us as his mother was, Alys.’
‘Dear Letty, you are friend and companion enough for me,’ Alys said affectionately, then laid down her pen. ‘You know, the rector is paying rather more than his usual brief visit to Papa, for it must be quite a quarter of an hour since he—’
There was a clattering on the stairs and then the door burst open and Mary rushed in, her cap askew. ‘Eh, Miss Alys, you’d best come straight away, for Rector’s gone and told master about poor Sir Ralph and it’s sent him in t’such a fit he’s like to die!’
‘Tell Saul to go straight for the doctor, Mary. He can go in Mr Franby’s gig. And tell him to be as quick as he can,’ Alys ordered, making for the stairs.
But it was all over long before the doctor could be fetched.
*
‘Mary was right, after all: deaths do come in threes,’ Miss Grimshaw said after the funeral, as they sat in the parlour like a pair of large crows; although it has to be said that black suited Alys’s pale skin and chestnut hair very well.
‘But this death was not unlooked for, and is more in the nature of a blessed release.’ Though shaken and upset, Alys could not pretend to be heartbroken by the death of one who had never shown her such signs of fatherly affection as might have endeared him to her.
Despite – or perhaps because of – recent tragic events, she had found fresh inspiration for her new book, which was justas well, for now she felt the whole burden of their future suddenly resting upon her shoulders. Should she fail, poor, faithful Letty must return to live as a dependant on her relatives, or find another post, and she herself would be reliant on the kindness of her cousin and his as yet unknown wife.
‘You are not … not going to write your novelnow, are you?’ faltered Miss Grimshaw as Alys seated herself purposefully before her little desk and lifted the lid.
‘Of course, for there is no time to be lost, and nothing to be gained by sitting about pretending a grief I do not feel.’
‘Ravish’d by Cruel Fateis a veryoddsort of title, Alys. Immured as you have always been, I do not know where you get such strange fancies from.’
‘But I have never beenentirelycut off from the world,’ said Alys, amused. ‘What with newspapers and books and Nell’s letters, not to mention that kind note from Mrs Radcliffe, when she recognized my hand inMalvina. I fear she is probably a better woman than I will ever be, or my heroines would not be so wilfully sure they always know what is right.’
Alys trimmed her pen and set to, writing swiftly, and she hardly registered when Letty quietly left the room to see to the sending off of the remainder of their clothing to be dyed black.
Dear Nell,
Well, it is all over, and we are fixed here awaiting the return of James and his new bride. It suits us well enough at present, for there is much to do both here and at the Hall, and everyone looks to me for directions. Also, the little house in Hans Town is let until early next year, so even should we wish to live there, we could not.
Yesterday, sorting Papa’s effects, we discovered some letters from my grandfather, Titus Hartwood. Although I only have one side of this brief exchange of correspondence, they were clearly talking at cross-purposes. Papa was demanding the money he thought due to Mama on her marriage, which took place at Gretna – how scandalous! – but my grandfather, after berating Papa as a vile abductor, among other interesting appellations, says, tellingly, ‘You have removed a treasure from this house, and I will not treat with you until it is returned.’
Well, by ‘a treasure’ Mr Hartwood must surely have meant the golden pendant I found hidden among Mama’s things, which presumably she brought away with her for some reason. But Papa evidently thought he was referring to Mama herself, though how he was to return her when they were married, I cannot imagine.
I don’t suppose Mama knew anything about the exchange, or she might have set Papa right, but perhaps she had got his measure by then, and would not have entrusted the treasure into his hands. It is a mystery, but if Mr Hartwood set such store by the thing, then I must endeavour to return it when I find a safe way of doing so.
Happily, my new book is at last coming along rapidly. I hope you also are feeling more cheerful now that Mr Rivers has explained that his frequent visits to Lord Chase’s house are due to his forming a little Scientific Society with those of his old friends who share his interests.
Besides, you did say that he seemed quieter and more thoughtful since the tragic death of his childhood friend, Gervase Stavely, so perhaps he was a bad influence upon him? But I am, of course, very sorry for Mr Stavely’s mamaand younger sisters, who have been good neighbours to you in Cheshire. I believe there is a younger son, at present serving in the Peninsular?
Our foothold on life seems remarkably insecure. One must just live each day as it comes.
Your affectionate friend,
Alys
10
Sold Out
What joy of anticipation leaped in Cicely’s breast as she flew down the turret stairs to make all ready to greet him after his long absence.
Ravish’ d by Cruel FatebyORLANDO BROWNE
‘It’s good to have you back, Harry, by God it is!’ Serle Rayven said, shaking his friend’s hand. ‘But under any other circumstances, for you know how sorry I am about Gervase.’
Captain Harry Stavely, a slight, serious, sandy-haired man, who had so recently and reluctantly sold out of the Rifle Brigade on the death of his brother, nodded. ‘I suppose it was always on the cards. What a fellow he was for being either up in the clouds or down in the black depths: no in-between for Ger!’
