Page 50 of Needs Must
It made no sense.
Unless Esmeralda was only visible to her because Donna occupied the cottage in which the poor woman had been murdered. She had not seen her anywhere else, so it was highly likely. She had read somewhere that spirits who had met untimely deaths lingered in some form or other in this world until such time as those deaths were avenged. In which case, she was doubly determined to help Esmeralda pass on to whatever awaited her.
They spent the afternoon industriously. The curtains would be ready to hang the next day. Mr Dawkins had done an excellent job. Already there were fewer draughts creeping in through the windows, the holes in the thatch had been repaired and the roof was once more watertight.
‘We will be able to move in two days’ time, I shouldn’t wonder,’ Miriam said, rubbing her hands in satisfaction. ‘We’ll be as cosy as you like.’
And they would be, Donna accepted as she looked about the sitting room that had been transformed. Miriam had scattered a few of the ornaments they’d brought back from Jamaica about the place. A shelf in one corner was filled with books that Donna could not live without. Miriam had arranged for the mattresses to be restuffed and Donna’s colourful bedspread was now in pride of place in the larger bedchamber.
‘One of the benefits of such a small cottage is that it’s so easy to keep it warm,’ Donna said, standing in the room that she would soon occupy every night. ‘I can feel the warmth from the sitting room fire seeping through the walls.’
‘Come on now, lass. We need to drive that lazy cob back to the tavern so that you can change into your habit. It wouldn’t do to keep the earl waiting. I’ll wait here in the cottage for you, and we’ll travel back to the village together again later. That way, no one will know where you have been and draw inappropriate conclusions.’
‘There’s no need, Miriam.’
‘There’s every need.’ Miriam made shooing motions with her hands. ‘Come along now. Time and tide wait for no man.’
Donna knew better than to argue with her maid and dutifully followed her from the cottage with an excited Willow dancing round her feet. She reclaimed Bertram and the gig from the lean-to at the side of the cottage which had also been repaired by the obliging Mr Dawkins and drove back to the tavern in a lighter hearted frame of mind than seemed strictly appropriate, given her circumstances. But she simply didn’t care. For once she would forget about her troubles, both financial and emotional, and put her own interests first. For an hour or two she would enjoy riding with Cal and let the future take care of itself.
‘Make sure the ladies are protected at all times, Jules,’ Cal said as the two of them rode back to Arndale Hall. ‘But for the love of God, tell your men not to let Mrs Harte see them. She would not be impressed by my efforts to keep her safe, but there’s no help for that. I will not have her coming to any harm. Not while she is under my protection.’
‘Of course you will not,’ Jules replied, chuckling. ‘Don’t worry, I’m ahead of you. She won’t be able to sneeze without your being aware of it.’
‘Good man!’
Cal inwardly groaned when he entered his house and the first person he encountered was Daventry.
‘Cal, a word if you please.’
Without responding, Cal made for his library. Daventry followed him into the room and closed the door behind him with a soft thud.
‘Something I can do for you?’ Cal asked, seating himself behind his desk and flipping through the papers neatly piled on its surface.
‘Your attention, just for a moment.’ Daventry sat in front of Cal’s desk and when Cal glanced at him, he could see that he was seriously upset. Not that his discomposure would alter Cal’s decision, but he would be interested to hear how he hoped to delay the inevitable.
‘You have it.’ Cal glanced at the clock. ‘But make it quick. I have things to do.’
‘I realise that you’re out of patience with us, and I can quite understand why. Celia can be very … assertive. Over-conscious of her position in society and all that. She has little compassion for those less fortunate than herself, but you hardly need me to tell you that. She is disappointed about so many things, you see.’
‘You are indeed not telling me anything I didn’t already know,’ Cal replied briskly. ‘Get to the point.’
‘You are sensible not to rush into matrimony,’ Daventry said, his tone reflective enough to ensure him of Cal’s continued attention.
‘If you think that by acting in haste you made a misjudgement then I am not the person to talk to. Celia and I do not see eye to eye, and I do not much like her at times, but she is my sister and therefore my family loyalties lie with her.’
‘I realise that, which is why I find it exceedingly difficult to take her to task under your roof.’ Daventry paused for a moment, then added, ‘I married her for her dowry, of course.’
Cal’s head shot up. He had always known it but had never supposed that Daventry would make such a confession. It was an exceedingly crass admission to make. Men married for monetary reasons all the time, but such matters were never discussed publicly.
‘We do not suit but there’s nothing to be done about it. And I will remove us from your house, if you will only grant me a little more time.’
‘When does the tenancy on your estate expire?’
‘Imminently, in less than two months in fact, but Celia flatly refuses to live in Lincoln.’
‘She has no choice in the matter.’
‘Easy for you to say.’ Daventry shuddered. ‘I freely admit that I have no control over her actions. I have been far too lenient. She and the dowager countess are so close, so robust.’ He shuddered. ‘When they join forces it’s impossible to control Celia’s excesses, especially when her mother takes her side. As I say, we are under your roof, so it is hard for me to gainsay her. It is easier to simply turn a blind eye and stop trying.’ He straitened his shoulders defiantly, and Cal felt a pang of sympathy for the man. He had done the same himself often enough, after all. ‘Be that as it may, I am her husband, and she will go to Lincoln in two months’ time whether she likes it or not.’
