Page 6 of Needs Must
‘Denmead Cottage has been let again,’ she said, her eyes bulging with suppressed excitement.
Cal shared a glance with Jules, thinking it an oddity that they had just been discussing the cottage’s owner.
‘And why should that be of interest to me?’ Cal asked with barely suppressed impatience.
‘I have it direct from the butcher’s boy, who heard it from Mrs Cooper at the Ship. It’s a lady on her own who has taken it. She’s shrouded in mystery,’ Celia finished, her eyes wide.
‘And down on her luck if she’s forced to live in that rundown hovel,’ Jules said.
‘I knew you would agree with me, Jules.’ Cal smothered a smile when Celia made cow eyes at Jules. He had been the recipient of her affections ever since Celia had become disillusioned with married life – or would have been had he shown the slightest inclination to reciprocate. But she had met her match and no matter what stratagems she employed, Jules had kept his distance. Passably pretty, Celia had little else to recommend her. She possessed a sharp and some might say vindictive tongue when she didn’t get her way. She seemed to forget that Jules lived at Arndale Hall too, was treated as one of the family, and got to see Celia at unguarded moments. He had witnessed her tantrums when she didn’t get her way and had not appreciated the view.
‘My point,’ Celia said a little desperately when neither Cal nor Jules responded, ‘is that I should call upon the lady. Oh, I realise she ought to be beneath my notice but if I do put myself out and call perhaps we can then unearth the truth about poor Mrs Bagshott.’
‘How?’ Cal asked, sharing an amused look with Jules.
‘Well obviously, I will have access to the cottage. I am sure there will be clues there if one takes the trouble to search for them. I think it shocking that Bagshott has kept the place locked and bolted while allowing it to fall into disrepair. One might reasonably suppose that he has done so because he has something to hide. Everyone in the village says as much.’
‘Then why let it again? Bagshott surely has enough blunt not to need to let it at all. He could have it knocked down if he wanted to stop tongues wagging.’
‘But nothing would attract the public’s imagination more than an unoccupied house in the middle of the woods standing empty like a shrine to a woman he once loved – a woman who is no longer here!’ Celia’s imagination was running away with her again, Cal realised. ‘So he lets it to make things appear normal.’
‘He has certainly done so several times before.’
‘Oh yes. They say the ghost frightened the tenants away.’ Celia thought for a moment. ‘I expect Mr Bagshott is responsible for that too. He doesn’t want people to think he has anything to hide, so he cannot be held responsible if his tenants choose to leave almost as soon as they arrive.’ She nodded, clearly satisfied with her addled reasoning.
‘Perhaps Bagshott simply prefers to protect his property from those who have no business interfering,’ Cal suggested, aware that this subtlety would be lost on his sister.
‘Only imagine if we see Mrs Bagshott’s ghost,’ Celia said, her eyes bulging. She seemed to have forgotten that she’d just suggested the ghost was nothing more than local folklore. ‘I am sure I shall scream loud enough to be heard in Brighton.’
‘Then you would be best advised to leave the cottage and its new resident to their own devices,’ Cal said calmly.
‘Oh, I can’t possibly do that. As your sister, it’s my duty to call upon new residents in the locality and make them feel welcome.’
‘Actually, that’s our mother’s duty,’ Cal reminded her. ‘You are now a Daventry, not a Russell.’
‘Tosh!’ Celia waved Cal’s point aside with blithe indifference. ‘Mama is not in the best of health and depends upon me to discharge her duties. She cannot manage without me. She says as much every day.’
Ah, Cal thought, so Celia had picked up on the fact that he was losing patience and wanted rid of her and Daventry. Celia he could tolerate. His mother did enjoy her society even if she was still in the rudest of health, at least as far as Cal was aware, and perfectly able to discharge her duties without Celia’s help. It was Daventry who had become a thorn in Cal’s side, doing little or nothing to resolve his family’s affairs or to support himself and his wife. Damn it, where was the man’s pride? he wondered for the millionth time.
Cal was absolutely convinced that Daventry had only married Celia for her dowry. But anyone who dared to make even the vaguest suggestion of that sort in Celia’s hearing would be the recipient of the sharp side of her tongue.
Daventry was a handsome devil, albeit vain and indolent. Celia had beaten the opposition and won his hand, making her the envy of her competitors. Daventry had pockets to let and was therefore obliged to marry the richest of the females competing for his favours, that much had been common knowledge. But Celia’s dowry had not fully resolved the problems Daventry had inherited from his father, it seemed, since he appeared to still depend upon renting his estate in order to have any income at all.
Cal would definitely broach the subject with him. And soon. Enough was enough.
‘The lady is residing at the Ship without a male escort.’ Celia adopted a shocked expression. ‘Scandalous, is it not?’
Cal raised one brow. ‘And you wish to make yourself known to such a person?’
‘Oh, I don’t suppose she can help her circumstances, otherwise she would not have taken a lease on that ghastly cottage. I gather repairs must be put in hand before it’s even habitable. I will confess that I am curious about her circumstances, though. Nothing quite so exciting has happened around these parts for years.’
‘Well then, don’t let us detain you.’
Celia pouted, clearly having failed to elicit the response she desired. ‘Mama asked me to remind you that the Porters and the Seymours dine with us tonight. She wanted to make sure that you would not suddenly recall a previous engagement, as you so often do when we have guests.’
‘You may tell our mother that wild horses will not prevent me from attending,’ Cal replied in a resigned tone.
He knew that absenting himself would be futile. His mother would keep inviting their close neighbours, along with their dowdy daughters, until he recalled his duty as host. Besides, if he did evade the occasion, poor Saul would be called upon to substitute for him and would then be the focus of the attention of the daughters in question. And that was not a fate he would wish on anyone.
