Once and for Always, page 13
‘What I found there was not good,’ Jones said sadly. ‘Fleming was already married at the time he went through a ceremony with Miss Hastings.’
Simon was stunned. A bigamous marriage was the last thing he could have expected.
‘However,’ Jones senior put in, ‘our brief was to find Mrs Fleming.’
The younger Jones had retraced his steps to work on the less significant comments of his informants.
The owner of the company from which Mrs Fleming had hired a coach had a strange tale to tell. A young man had spoken to her immediately before she left and they had gone together to a nearby hotel for a short while. Then the driver had been told they were going to London. Half way there they stopped for the night and next morning the lady’s luggage was transferred to the gentleman’s coach and her driver dismissed. He had since left to take up other employment.
‘The company’s the owner could not remember the exact address as a small fire had destroyed some of his records. He suggested I find the firm that had taken her household possessions,’ Jones concluded.
‘That’s it in a nutshell, my Lord,’ the older Jones concluded. ‘The lady is living under her maiden name and has a companion and a youth as general helper. She does not appear to be in need.’
Simon thanked them for a job well done and rang for them to be shown out. He was so shaken by the news he could not even get up from his chair.
He did not know how long he sat there before opening the file. The first paper only gave the address. Then came a whole ream of step-by-step actions with reference to statements in the third section. Last of all was Jones and Sons account. It was well within the amount Simon had paid them in advance. Simon closed the folder and placed it in his safe. He stared at the closed door, filled with profound disappointment.
That evening Simon only ate half of his dinner and retired to his library with a bottle of brandy.
Next morning Simon awoke with a headache, upset stomach and a bad temper.
He had dreamed about Bea again. It was not a sensual dream as she had just stood at a distance gazing at him sadly.
Blasted woman! Why wouldn’t she leave him alone? He had done all he could. Whether from guilt or shame she had taken actions to conceal her destination so he could not even pay the intended compensation.
He got out of bed angrily. His movements were uncoordinated and he stubbed his toe on the bedframe. He swore when his fidgeting caused Noakes to nick his chin with the razor. He apologised immediately and grunted, ‘A bad night,’ by way of explanation.
There was no reasonable explanation for his erratic behaviour in the following days. He accepted invitations and flirted with willing women but although he was often tempted to take things further, he just could bring himself to follow it through.
The surge of physical desire took hold at inconvenient moments, usually after thinking about Bea. He could not get her out of his system. He felt betrayed and tried to tell himself all women were basically unfaithful. It was Monica all over again.
The absurdity finally brought him to his senses. How could she be unfaithful when they had never really met. Just a few minutes with a young girl and a chance collision in a crowded marketplace?
In desperation he locked himself in his study and read through the folder, word by word.
Two things stood out. Bea had married Fleming within days of her father’s death. Had she married a much older man for security? It sounded reasonable.
Last year she had gone away with a young man. Again, when she was in need of help. Had she been having an affair while her husband was away for long periods? None of the statements mentioned visitors but it was not impossible. He did not know how long she had stayed with him before settling in Little Moorings. Had she been cast off when the younger man tired of her?
Either way she was not an innocent. He saw a way of getting her out of his system once and for all.
Noakes was getting worried. In his later years Lord Ridgeworth’s father had lost his mind. Not violently, just a slow deterioration until he did not recognise his wife or son. Was his lordship going the same way? He was sure of it when his master rushed into the room and ordered, ‘Pack a small bag. I am going to Felixstowe.’ That gave Noakes a shock. Felixstowe was quite close to Ipswich. His lordship’s confusion was worse than Noakes cared to believe. It was not his place to question his employer but was given no chance to probe as Ridgeworth left as swiftly as he had arrived muttering about train times.
Noakes automatically packed for himself as well on the assumption that he would be accompanying his employer. When they were ready to leave Simon saw Noakes handing his own bag to the cab driver.
Simon frowned. ‘I did not ask you to company me.’
‘But, my Lord, I always….’
Simon cut him short. ‘I do not need a nursemaid. You are getting…’ He could not finish the sentence. Noakes had served him faithfully all his adult life. At times they were almost friends but Noakes never took advantage. The man looked really upset at being left behind. ‘Oh, get aboard or we will miss the train.
There was a press of people at the platform barrier. Lord Ridgeworth flashed the first-class ticket he had sent a footman to buy and strode forward. Hampered by the bags Noakes followed close behind with just a nod to the ticket inspector. He spent the entire journey worrying about what would happen at the other end when he was found to be travelling without a ticket. For the first time in his life he was breaking the law.
As expected, the Felixstowe inspector asked for Noakes’ ticket. Lord Ridgeworth turned back, frowned and then laughed. He handed the inspector a coin and they were through.
‘Sorry about that,’ Ridgeworth said casually. ‘I forgot.’
Yes, you did! Noakes thought. ‘And what are you going to do when you realise we are at the wrong station?
But it appeared Lord Ridgeworth really had meant to come to Felixstowe. Now Noakes was the one confused.
Ridgeworth ordered the cab driver to take them to a good hotel. He was shocked to be told there were no rooms available. He handed over his card and a shilling but the receptionist shook his head. ‘I am sorry, Lord Ridgeworth, the Easter rush has started and we are fully booked.’
Simon stumbled to the door. He had never been turned away before. Even if a room had not been pre-booked his card and a tip always found that one was free.
Ridgeworth turned to his valet. ‘Find somewhere else. I have a call to make.’
Another cab had just rolled up, its roof loaded with cases. A prosperous looking gentleman started to alight. Ridgeworth spoke a few words to him and marched away.
‘How will he know where I am?’ Noakes spoke aloud and received an odd look from two ladies just exiting the hotel.
Chapter 15
Bea had initially been disappointed to find that the rented cottage was not actually on the coast. She had been looking forward to seeing the sea.
The cottage was in fact a medium-sized house set in its own grounds. She had sent a letter to the letting agent to say she would be late arriving but had been unable to give an exact date. Bea collected the key from a neighbour as directed. It took a few minutes as the neighbour had much to say. ‘I’m Mrs Potley, ma’am.’ She told Bea she had lit the fires every other day to keep the house aired and did Miss Hasting want her to come in daily? Bea thanked her and said she would let her know later and went to inspect her new home.
The front door opened onto a square hall with doors on either side and a central staircase. Still wearing her hat and coat Bea looked into each room. They were a good size but too fussily furnished for her taste. The staircase was wide, stained on either side with a bare mid-section that suggested there used to be a carpet. With Dora following Bea climbed to the upper floor. Four doors here. Bea entered the one on the right. It overlooked the street and Bea was just in time to see Jane’s carriage moving away. It seemed they would be staying here for at least one night. Bea had just decided it would do until she found something better when Dora called out, ‘Come and look at this.’
Dora stood by the window in the rear bedroom. She had shed her cloak but still wore the satchel. Bea joined her and looked out. A river flowed just beyond the garden fence and she could see several small craft, both sail and oared, on the water. On the far side of the river was a wide towpath and beyond that a view of open fields. ‘Just like Cambridge,’ Dora sighed. ‘Not that we had a garden or the river so close but you could see it every time we went to church or for a stroll.’ Bea had not had much time for strolling and Dora could not see the point of walking just for the sake of it. But Bea understood what she meant.
She had missed the wide sky on her only walk in London. Even the park had a limited view. And Dora was right, it did have a comfortable feeling of home.
Freddie called up the stairs, ‘Miss Bea, there’s someone here to see you.’
Bea went down to meet an elderly lady carrying a large basket. She introduced herself as Mrs Cornish and said Mrs Potley had reported her arrival. ‘I have come to welcome you and brought a few things to get you going.’
Bea recognised the name from the agent’s letter. Mr Cornish owned much of the land including all the houses. Bea thanked the kind lady and Dora took the basket of groceries through to the kitchen. ‘I won’t keep you, my dear. We are just along the road. Please let us know if you need anything.’ Bea thanked her and followed Dora into the kitchen.
Freddie had stacked their luggage in the hall and was in the kitchen inspecting the basket’s contents. All the basics were there including a jug of milk. ‘I found this on the table,’ Dora said and handed Bea a neatly written list.
Welcome to Little Moorings, it began and was signed E.G. Cornish.
Mrs Potley is an honest and reliable cleaner. She also takes in laundry.
Milk, eggs and cheese were available at the farm, also poultry with advance notice.
The privy is emptied on Wednesday night.
An omnibus runs three times a week to Felixstowe and twice a week to Ipswich. Shops in both towns deliver.
Please ask me for any other information needed.
‘How thoughtful,’ Bea said with a slight lump in her throat. ‘I wonder if the other neighbours are equally friendly.’
Dora frowned at Freddie. ‘Just you remember what I said. No gossiping. We just came here after Mr Hastings died.’
Freddie shrugged, ‘If you say so. I’ve had a look outside. Garden needs seeing too.’
Bea hid a smile. She had a feeling that they could settle here but she still did not want to reveal too much about her background.
Bea did buy the house. The tranquil setting was soothing after her weeks of worry. Dora and Freddie liked it too. The neighbours were friendly but not intrusive and it did not take long for them all to be absorbed into the small community. Apart from Mr and Mrs Cornish, the other inhabitants of the small hamlet were all manual workers. Bea was in a similar position to her status in Cambridge. She would have friendly neighbours but no real friends.
Out of politeness, Bea let it be let it be known that she had lost both parents in quick succession and needed a complete change of scene. It was true in a way and also gave a plausible reason for a lady of her age being unmarried. Bea did not like lying but a little evasion and suggestion quashed undue speculation.
The months passed. Bea had the house re-decorated and sent for her own furniture. She loved pottering in the garden with one of Mrs Potley’s sons to do the heavy digging. Or sitting in the shade to watch the craft on the river. She particularly like watching the brightly painted barges and their patient horses as they carried goods between the coast and Ipswich. Dora found it easier to mix with the other women but her closest friend was the wife of Mr Cornish’s farm manager who, like Bea and Dora, was in a mid-way class between the workers and the gentry. Freddie was friendly with everyone. He built a hen-run more for the fun of it than a need to economise and one of the other cottagers taught him to row a small dinghy and fish.
It was all very respectable and unthreatening. She tried not to think too much about the future. Bea had more time on her hands than ever before and bought a dog to accompany her on her solitary walks. ‘We are all happy,’ Bea told herself whenever her spirits sagged.
As summer faded into autumn Bea made an effort to explore further afield. With winter on the horizon she joined a lending library in Ipswich and stocked up on needles and wool and started on some tapestry cushions. And there was always her piano to play and evoke memories of happier days. The Cornish’s took her to church each week and she was soon asked to play the piano when the regular pianist complained that it hurt his arthritic hands.
Bea was not unhappy but the prospect of drifting into a lonely old age was depressing.
One day in December, after a long spell of wet weather, Bea was walking around her bedraggled garden when she heard shouts and male laughter coming from the river. She moved to the bottom of the garden to see what was happening. A little down river a good-looking man in a rowing boat had become entangled in a fishing net thrown over the back of a barge. There was another rowing boat but the man was bent double laughing so she only saw a flash of fair hair.
Her heart beat faster as she thought of Simon Armitage. Turning away quickly she berated herself for still thinking about him and went indoors.
One day, just before Easter, Bea was in her garden. Everything was sprouting as the days lengthened and would soon gladden her heart with colour.
She had been here for nearly a year. It had not been boring exactly but nothing of note had happened. ‘You should be thankful for that,’ she told herself sternly. Jane wrote to her frequently but it was like reading a book about a different universe.
Freddie, who had been cleaning the front windows, came around the side of the house and handed Bea a small card. Before she had a chance to read it Freddie said, ’There’s a swell gent at the front who says he’s Viscount Ridgeworth.’
‘What is he doing here?’
‘Don’t know. He just asked if you were in and could he speak to you.’
Bea glanced down at the mud on her dress and the boots she wore in the garden. ‘Show him into the parlour and close the door. I need to get upstairs to make myself presentable.’
Bea kicked off her boots on the back step and waited just inside the kitchen until she heard the parlour door close. Freddie grinned at her as she scooted up the stairs.
A little later Bea hesitated outside the parlour door. While she changed into a modest but pretty gown of fine wool her mind had been racing. Why was Lord Ridgeworth here? How had he found her? Why had he come in person?
Bea took a deep breath and opened the door and froze. Simon! She recognised him instantly. ‘Simon,’ she whispered in a mixture of delight, shock and confusion. She had not looked at the card after Freddie told her the caller’s name. It was in the pocket of the apron she had torn off as she ran up the stairs.
He stood up from petting her dog and took a step towards her.
‘Bea,’ he said softly, taking another step towards her. ‘You recognise me?’ The woman of his dreams was even lovelier in the flesh. Her simple gown revealed soft, feminine curves that set his pulse racing.
Simon’s smile turned Bea’s bones to jelly. ‘Please sit down,’ she said more for her own benefit than politeness. She did not want to fall at his feet. Bea flopped inelegantly onto the sofa and Simon sat opposite. They gazed at each other until Bea managed to gather enough wits to offer him refreshment.
‘Not just now but I have a cab waiting. Perhaps your man can see to the driver. You will return to talk to me?’ he added anxiously as Bea got to her feet. She nodded and raced from the room before he could see her blush.
Freddie was waiting in the hall, agog with curiosity. She gave brief instructions before he could ask questions and turned back to the parlour. Her head told her not to go back inside. Her heart took charge of her feet.
Simon was still petting the dog. ‘You will be covered in hairs,’ she said inanely. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks again so she grabbed Scamps’ collar and thrust him into the hall. In that few seconds Simon had stood up. Light from the window turned his hair into a shining halo but put his face in the shade.
‘Why are you here?’ Bea asked.
Simon shook his head. ‘I don’t really know. I have been so worried about you. I had to make sure you were safe after you were thrown out of your home.’
Bea covered her mouth with her hands and stared at him in horror. Dear God, he had been to Cambridge. What did he know?
Simon moved to crouch down in front of her and took hold of her hands. It was an intimate gesture but it felt so natural.
Bea felt faint, unsure if it was from shock or the feel of his hands gently holding hers. She was slowly swaying towards him before she came to her senses. ‘How did you find me?’
He saw her fear. ‘Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.’
Bea tugged her hands free. ‘But how did you find me?!’ Her voice had risen and Scamp barked and scratched at the door. Scamp’s continual barking made her pull away. She could not look at him. What would he think of her?
Bea jerked upright and onto her feet almost knocking him off balance. From a safe distance she asked again, ‘Why are you here?’
Simon stood but did not come any closer. ‘Please sit down and listen to me.’
Against her better judgement Bea did as he asked and listened while he told her how she had been found. ‘They are honest men and will not tell a soul.’
‘How much do you know?’
‘Probably most of it. I sent them to find one of my abused tenants. I was shocked when I heard you are not really Mrs Fleming.’
‘Don’t call me that. I have left that person behind. I just want to stay here safe and quiet.’ She was unaware that the tears were streaming down her face.
