Lady Melmoth was seated on the sofa looking up at her husband and a stranger who stood together in front of the fire. Giles stood behind his mother. He turned and smiled at Lavinia as she entered with Jonathan. But immediately, Lavinia’s eyes went to the stranger. He was an elderly man, but so tall and straight that his appearance belled his age. His hair was silver and he had a moustache which ended in two sharp points.
Lord Rowan turned, mid-sentence, and caught sight of Lavinia’s small figure standing beside Jonathan, almost shrinking towards him for protection.
Her huge brown eyes were riveted upon her grandfather’s face. Instantly, he saw the likeness between this child and his wife, Mélanie. Although this girl was only a shadow of Mélanie’s beauty and personality, he could see at a glance she was a potential beauty. What chance had she had, he thought angrily, with Gervase as a parent?
Lord Rowan had stopped speaking without finishing his sentence, losing concentration as his attention was caught and held by the sight of his granddaughter.
‘Here she is, sir,’ Jonathan was saying leading her forward.
She came, unwillingly. Lord Rowan could see, to stand before him and submit to his scrutiny. She had lowered her eyes now and was looking at the floor, afraid to meet his gaze.
He cupped her chin with his strong fingers.
‘Don’t be afraid, my dear,’ he said softly.
She raised her eyes slowly to look into his blue, clear and honest eyes, which were at one and the same time stern but kind. He smiled down at her and Lavinia felt the warmth of his regard. She smiled back tremulously and in that moment there was created a bond of affection and mutual trust, nothing would or could ever break.
All in that moment, Lavinia knew she had found someone she could depend upon, someone who would care for her and care about her. Lord Rowan too realised that here was a child so unlike her parentage that it was as if they did not exist but that she was his own daughter—his and Mélanie’s child.
‘Sit down here beside me, my dear, and tell me about yourself—we have many years to catch up on, have we not?’
‘Yes,’ she said shyly.
‘Well,’ Lord Rowan said, though not unkindly, ‘I’m waiting.’
‘There’s n-not much to tell. I haven’t any of the usual accomplishments—all the money was spent on a tutor for Roderick. Papa considers it unnecessary for a girl to be educated—though I can read and write legibly,’ she added, anxious not to disgrace herself immediately in his eyes. ‘And l-love sketching, though I do it in secret. Papa and Mama do not approve and Roderick laughs at my efforts. You—you w-won’t tell them, will you?’ Her brown eyes were pleading.
‘No—no—I won’t tell them.’ There was a strange catch in Lord Rowan’s voice. Even though Lavinia had said all this without a trace of self-pity for she had merely stated the situation as it was, she little realised how pitiful it sounded to her listeners.
‘I know a lot of places in London. Giles took me driving—and the docks and the clippers and even the new steamship—Jonathan t-took me.’
‘Well, now, it seems that your education during the past week or so in the hands of these two fine young men has improved,’ Lord Rowan teased, and Lavinia blushed. ‘But I am going to suggest taking you away from them.’
The look of misery which came to Lavinia’s face could not help but wring the hearts of all in the room.
‘You mean—I m-must go home?’ she whispered.
‘Home with me, I mean, back to Warwickshire.’ ‘To “Avonridge”,’ her face brightened a little, ‘for a holiday?’
‘No,’ Lord Rowan touched her hair gently. ‘No, not for a holiday—for good. I want you to make your home with me, if you would like to do that.’
‘Like it—like …’ But she could not go on for tears of happiness choked her.
‘There, there,’ he soothed, putting his arms about her. ‘Are you so averse to the idea?’
‘Oh no, no,’ she cried fiercely, throwing her thin arms about his neck and holding on to him so tightly as if she would never let go. ‘It’s the most wonderful thing that could ever happen.’
Her words ended in an emotional squeak, so overcome was she by her good fortune, and everyone in the room laughed, though kindly thus relieving much of the drama of the moment. Lavinia, through her tears, laughed too and burled her head against her grandfather’s shoulder, smiling happily to herself.
So it was settled between them, her parents being considered a secondary problem. In fact, Lord Rowan paid a swift and unexpected visit to his son’s dwelling, putting forward the proposition and extracting agreement from the spluttering Gervase and the nervous Sarah, and leaving before they had time to retract their consent.
Lavinia seemed perfectly happy to make the break with her parents and brother without even seeing them again and this, to Lord Rowan and the four members of the Eldon family, whilst pitiful, served to emphasise the misery she must have suffered under her parents’roof. No doubt the last act of their misuse of her—using her as a pawn in a tactical game with Lord Myron—had severed any bonds between Lavinia and her parents.
A few days later, Lavinia left ‘ Eldon House’ with Lord Rowan to journey to her new home in Warwickshire, her only belongings being the clothes given to her by Lady Melmoth and a few sketches. Although Lavinia already loved Lord Rowan dearly, she could not help but regret leaving ‘Eldon House’—the kindly Lord and Lady Melmoth, the gay Giles and, of course, Jonathan, whom least of all she wished to leave. She was heartened by the fact that Lady Melmoth pressed her to come and stay with them again any time she felt so inclined, and also to hear Lord Rowan giving open invitation to the Eldons to visit ‘Avonridge’.
The journey was long but of infinite interest to the girl and Lord Rowan was amused by her obvious delight in the countryside and all the sights and sounds which were so unfamiliar to a city-dweller.
They made the journey leisurely enjoying frequent stops and an overnight stay at about the half-way stage.
‘Oh, the trees and fields!’ Lavinia was ecstatic in her praise, and lost much of her shyness in her enthusiasm. The days were cold, but bright, and the countryside was peaceful and welcoming to the child from the smoke and dirt of the city.
At last the carriage turned off the road through wrought-iron gates which were opened by a man who rushed out from a small cottage near the main gates. He touched his cap respectfully to the occupants of the carriage. Lavinia saw two small girls staring at them from the cottage windows—it was a tiny cottage, whitewashed, the windows painted black with a thatched roof. On up the lane through magnificent parkland. Deer raised their heads questioningly.
‘Oh Grandfather—is all this yours?’
‘Yes, my dear. Do you think you can be happy here?’
‘It’s wonderful—wonderful.’
‘There’s the house—see through the trees.’
As they neared the house itself, Lavinia saw that it was rather severe-looking but nevertheless charming. It was square from the front, but the centre section was set back a little, the front entrance being exactly in the centre. Swiftly she counted the windows—there seemed to be so many—twenty, and then there were eight tiny dormer windows jutting out of the roof.
Round the main door ivy grew softening the harsh lines of the building. The drive curved in a semi-circle before the house, but the smooth lawns were divided by paths and trees. Neatly trimmed hedges bordered the driveway.
The interior of the house, Lavinia found, as Lord Rowan led her inside, was even more luxurious than the Eldons’ town house. She felt a little overwhelmed by the ornate, painted ceilings, the panelled doors and wide, sweeping staircase. She was unaccustomed to grandeur of this standard.
Lavinia gazed around her and at last she glanced up at Lord Rowan to find him watching her.
‘Welcome home, my child,’ he said softly, and she read the tender affection in his eyes. ‘This house has been lacking something ever since your grandmother died. Now, with you here, I can see what it was. It will be a home once more from now on.’
Lavinia blushed at the compliment. She was unused to such demonstrations of affection—indeed she was unused to being loved and she found it strangely moving to be welcomed into these beautiful surroundings and to realise that at last she belonged somewhere and to someone.
If only Jonathan were here, her happiness would be complete. Be thankful, she reminded herself sharply, for your present good fortune.
‘Here’s Mrs Matthews, my housekeeper, to welcome us,’ Lord Rowan was saying.
A buxom, middle-aged woman appeared in the hall. The smile on her rosy face was wide and cheerful. She wore a plain black dress, with a white lace collar, but her welcome belied the severity of her dress. She bobbed a curtsy.
‘Good afternoon, your Lordship, you’re a little earlier than we expected. Did you have a pleasant journey, sir?’
‘Yes, thank you, Mrs Matthews. This is my grand-daughter about whom I told you, Mrs Matthews. Have you prepared a room for her as I requested?’
‘Yes, sir. Everything’s ready.’
‘Go with Mrs Matthews, Lavinia.’
As Lavinia stepped forward towards the stairs, she heard her grandfather say in undertones to his housekeeper, ‘Treat her kindly, Mrs Matthews. She has had an unfortunate time.’
‘Yes, sir, of course. Poor lamb!’ The woman clucked sympathetically. She turned and came after Lavinia who was ascending the staircase uncertainly.
‘Now, you come with me, my dear. I expect you’re quite worn out with all that travelling. You’ve got a lovely room at the front of the house, not far from his Lordship’s room, overlooking the park.’
The woman chattered on in kindly tones, until Lavinia could not help but feel welcome.
As she reached the last curve of the staircase which would take her out of sight of the main hall, she glanced down to see her grandfather watching her, a slight frown on his face. As her eyes met his, he smiled swiftly and turned to enter a room to the left of the hall. She felt a sudden fear. Although he seemed pleased to have her here, was she in some way causing him to frown worriedly?
Lavinia promised herself solemnly that she would devote herself entirely to obeying her grandfather’s every command, and in so doing she would attempt with every day to repay the debt of gratitude she owed him.
Perhaps, if she concentrated hard enough on other people and other things, she would not find Jonathan so much in her thoughts.
The days and weeks passed, winter gave way to early spring, and Lavinia grew more contented with each passing hour. She enjoyed wandering through the vast number of rooms at ‘Avonridge’. The long drawing-room had windows down one side, the huge marble fireplace being on the opposite wall. The furniture—chosen with her grandmother’s influence Lavinia imagined—was in the French style, the chairs and small side tables with graceful lines and gently curving legs, and the chairs upholstered in rich brocade or tapestries which, she learnt later, her grandmother had worked. Various portraits lined the walls—ancestors, she presumed. The one immediately above the fireplace intrigued her. The gentle face held some resemblance to herself, Lavinia could see, but the woman in the portrait. Lady Rowan, was beautiful and elegant and the girl who stared up at it with soulful brown eyes envied the face on the canvas.
Lavinia’s favourite room was the library: its high ceiling with pictures painted on it: the walls lined with books and the comfortable couch where she would curl up with a book and lose herself among its pages forgetting for a time the world of reality.
Lavinia was happier at ‘Avonridge’ than she had ever been in her life and only one thing was missing to complete her happiness, but at the beginning of May even that was to be remedied, it seemed, for least for an all-too-short weekend.
The Eldon family were coming to stay at ‘Avonridge’.
Lavinia’s joy at the thought of seeing Jonathan once more was, however, tinged with fear and dread. She felt so gauche and awkward with him. How she wished she could see him but not be seen by him—but such a thought was ridiculous.
The time since she had come to ‘Avonridge’ had been the happiest she had ever known. In the company of her grandfather, she had blossomed into a normal, healthy young girl—still very shy, still lacking self-confidence, but her new-found happiness was reflected in her gentle smile and even her brown eyes had lost some of their sadness. Lord Rowan found that Lavinia—though her education had been sadly neglected as she herself had told him—had, nevertheless, a lively and active mind and under his guidance her general education improved rapidly. He himself gave her lessons each morning, and during the afternoon they drove or walked or occasionally rode, though the latter could be considered ‘lessons’ at first, for Lavinia knew not even the rudiments of horsemanship. However, Lord Rowan found her a willing and able pupil, though, unknown to him, her eagerness stemmed from her desire to become a person more worthy of Jonathan’s notice. Whilst she could never seriously think that he could fall in love with her, still there was the unquenchable wish within her to become the sort of woman he would not be ashamed to accompany. Always in her mind’s eye floated the picture of the beautiful Lady Anthea Thorwald whom Giles said Jonathan had once loved.
During Lavinia’s moments of solitude, when Lord Rowan was engaged in business, she would return to her favourite pastime of sketching. Her grandfather knew of this interest, but she had never, even yet, dared to show him her efforts. Lavinia herself, considered them of little importance or interest to anyone else, though she gained much pleasure from the execution of her little pictures. She kept her work in a green folder, but she never felt the need to hide the folder as she had done in her parents’ house, safe in the knowledge that her grandfather respected her need and wish for privacy in this respect. He would not, she knew, look upon her work unless she herself desired him to do so.
Increasingly often, she found herself sketching Jonathan. She drew his face from all angles—so well had she absorbed every expression of the face she loved. Occasionally she drew Giles, Lady Melmoth, Lord Melmoth and her grandfather.
Never did she recall the faces of her parents or brother on paper.
Only the faces of people she loved had she committed to memory so perfectly as to be able to reproduce them from memory: and the face her pencil sketched the most was Jonathan’s.
On the day the Eldons were expected, Lord Rowan said at breakfast.
‘No lessons today, my dear. I have some business to attend to before Melmoth arrives. Amuse yourself but don’t stray far from the house.’
‘No, Grandfather. What time will I … will they be here?’
‘Late afternoon, I should think, in good time for dinner.’
The day was sunny and warm for early May. The garden was peaceful, save for the twittering and singing of birds. Lavinia was seated on a white-painted garden seat near a pool in the centre of which was a fountain springing from an urn held by a white marble figure—a woman of ancient times carrying the urn on her shoulder.
The fountain cascaded in silver drops all round the figure into the round pool below, the borders of which were covered with water-lilies, and if she bent forward, Lavinia could see goldfish darting to and fro beneath the dark green circular leaves of the lilies. The fountain—Lavinia’s favourite spot—was in a small enclosed garden which she learnt from Mrs Matthews, had been her grandmother’s favourite spot too. It seemed natural for the lonely child to find herself drawn to this place, drawn to the garden beloved by the woman who, had she lived, would have loved Lavinia too.
When Lord Rowan had for the first time found Lavinia seated in exactly the same place as his wife had so often sat, the pain of remembrance was sharp, and yet at the same moment he was filled with a quiet happiness at seeing the young girl growing towards the woman her grandmother had been, even to finding affinity with her in her garden.
The garden was situated at the back and some distance away from the house and so Lavinia did not hear the carriage and did not know of the Eldons’ arrival until Giles’ voice broke into her day-dreaming.
‘Why, there you are, Vinny, hiding yourself away. Come and greet your guests.’
‘Oh!’ She jumped up, startled from her reverie. The folder of sketches slipped to the ground, scattering the papers on to the slabbed pathway round the pool.
‘Careful,’ cried Giles hurrying forward. ‘You’ll lose your papers in the water.’
He bent to help her gather the sheets of paper together.
‘It’s all right—really,’ she said in confusion and fear that he would see the drawings.
‘Hey, Vinny. These are marvellous. Why, there’s one of Jonathan. My, my, that’s wonderful—so lifelike. And here’s one of Papa and Mama together. Vinny, you’ve talent, great talent. Here’s one of me. Ha-ha,’ he laughed delightedly to see his beaming face staring back at him from the paper. ‘And another of old Jonathan, and another, and another, and …’
‘Please, Giles, give them back to me.’
He looked up then from the pictures and saw her face suffused with hot embarrassment.
‘Why, Vinny, don’t be shy of these. They’re superb. You shouldn’t be hiding all this away. We must show the others.’
‘No—no, Giles. I beg you,’ she cried in anguished tones.
‘But why ever not?’
‘I’d rather you d-didn’t. Even Grandfather—he’s never seen my sketches. I prefer no one to see them.’
‘But Vinny, why? These should be framed and hanging on a wall. You should be provided with paints and try portraiture in oils—really you should. These of old Jonathan are really something, it’s as if you …’
He stopped and regarded her closely. She avoided his penetrating gaze.
‘Please give them back to me,’ she said in a low voice.
‘Vinny, tell me something,’ Giles said in his impetuous way. ‘Have you fallen for old Jonathan?’
‘I—no, no of course not,’ she said swiftly—too swiftly—her colour rising again.
‘You’re not a very good liar, Vinny dear,’ Giles said softly.
‘Giles Eldon—how dare you call me a l-liar,’ she said, near to tears.
‘There, there, Vinny. I promise your secret is safe with me. Both the drawings and Jonathan.’
‘Giles—oh Giles,’ her voice broke on a sob. ‘Don’t tell him, don’t ever tell him. He’d hate me.’
‘Never, Vinny, he could never do that. Come now, dry your tears.’
‘But do you promise?’ she asked earnestly.
‘Yes—yes, I promise. Poor Vinny, you do have some bad luck. Now why,’ he continued in a lighter, teasing vein, trying to win a smile back to her face, ‘didn’t you fall in love with a handsome chap like me?—I’m really quite jealous.’
‘Oh Giles—I do l-love you,’ she blushed even more at her boldness, ‘but …’
‘But you love Jonathan more and not as a brother, eh?’
She nodded.
Giles sighed. He could never be anything but completely honest, and he could not, therefore, lie now to Lavinia, not even to give her hope as so many would have done, for he knew it would be a false hope.
‘Vinny, try to forget him. He doesn’t seem to be the marrying kind—now, and …’
‘Oh Giles, I know he’d never want to marry me. Good heavens after loving Lady Anthea …’ Her voice faded into silence and though Giles gave her a look of complete and sympathetic understanding, and tucked her small hand in his arm, he could not, in truth, disagree with her.
They returned to the house and were there greeted by the rest of the Eldon family—Lady Melmoth with her charming smile, Lord Melmoth with his robust chuckle and Jonathan with his quiet, half-smile and brown eyes which regarded Lavinia so steadily, making her heart pound and her hands tremble.
Giles, true to his word, put the folder of drawings on a side table and made no further reference to it, but immediately complimented Lord Rowan on the appearance of the grounds.
‘Really, sir, I thought there was no finer place than our own country house, but I begin to have doubts. ‘Avonbridge’ looks better than ever.’
The family laughed. There was one thing about Giles, Lavinia thought fondly, his readiness to defend anyone not only led him into trouble but also led him to perform acts of kindness, such as at this moment, when she knew he was deliberately drawing the attention away from her to himself in an effort to help her combat her shyness.
The Eldons’ visit was all too short. The following morning the gentlemen went riding and although they invited Lavinia to accompany them—and she would dearly have loved to have gone so that she might be a little longer in Jonathan’s company—she had to decline for her riding ability she knew was not proficient enough to enable her to keep pace with their speed. Nevertheless, she spent a pleasant morning with Lady Melmoth.
‘Lavinia, my dear, you look so much happier. Do you like it here?’
‘Oh so much, Lady Melmoth. I’m so grateful to you for all you did in bringing my grandfather and me together.’
‘Nonsense, dear child. We were only too glad to be of some use. But Lavinia, whilst we have a moment to ourselves, I want a quiet talk with you. It may be none of my business, but knowing your grandfather would never discuss such matters with you—well—I think you should know.’
‘Know what, Lady Melmoth?’
The good lady sighed. ‘Your father has caused your grandfather a great deal of unhappiness in the past.’
‘Oh, I can guess he has, for they have been estranged for years—and I can see now that it could not have been Grandfather’s fault.’
‘Quite so. But you are now making up for all his past unhappiness. Lord Rowan loves you dearly and you will be a great comfort to him.’
‘I’ll try, r-really I will.’
‘Of course you will, child. But I think you should be warned. Your father may try to use you for his own ends, he may try to get you to intercede for him with your grandfather.’
The girl nodded, understanding quickly.
‘But,’ Lady Melmoth continued, ‘you should have nothing to do with them, your father, your mother, or your brother.’
Lavinia looked surprised, but not shocked.
‘I know this is a terrible thing to be telling a young girl, but Lord Melmoth and Jonathan have now found beyond doubt that your father and your brother are still engaged in business with Lord Thorwald and Lord Myron, who, as you know, are rivals of the Keldon Line—and such rivals who would stop at nothing, absolutely nothings to put the Keldon Line out of business and rain us. Do you understand, Lavinia?’
She nodded again.
‘So it would be wiser if you severed all connections with the rest of your family, as indeed your grandfather has done. You don’t mind, do you?’
‘No—no. In time I would probably have forgiven them for their treatment of me, but if they are working against Grandfather and Lord Melmoth and—and J-Jonathan, then I can see you are right.’
‘It goes against my nature, I must admit,’ sighed Lady Melmoth, ‘to preach non-forgiveness. I have always believed that life is too short to quarrel, especially with one’s family, but your parents have been given more than one chance to rectify the mistakes they have made and be reconciled with your grandfather—but their treatment of you, my dear, has put an end to any possibility of reconciliation in the future, I know.’
‘Why did they invite you to dine and at the same time send me to Lord Myron?’
Lady Melmoth glanced at the girl shrewdly. Lavinia was not the simpleton one could have once supposed when they had first met her.
‘Ah—now this is getting a little involved with business intrigue, my dear. If I tell you, you must promise never to tell anyone for it could have serious repercussions upon your grandfather and on all of us.’
‘Of course, I won’t say a word,’ Lavinia breathed.
‘You know of Jonathan’s steamship?’
‘Yes.’
Lady Melmoth smiled. ‘We call it “Jonathan’s” although, of course, it is the Company’s but he centres all his hopes upon it. He says it is the ship of the future, that one day the clipper ships—dependent upon the elements as they are—will be obsolete eventually.’
‘I understand, but why should Lord Thorwald be opposed to it?’
‘They don’t believe in steam, neither do they have the capital, from what we hear, to risk building a steamship which after all might be a failure. It has not been proved yet.’
‘But if Jonathan believes in it, then it must be all right.’
Lady Melmoth smiled at the implicit faith Lavinia placed in Jonathan.
‘Well, we all hope so, naturally.’
‘But I still don’t see …’
‘Thorwald and Myron, as I said, would stop at nothing. We fear they may try sabotage of the ship or other ways to discredit our name and harm our Company. And as your father is now involved with them, we think he invited us to dine to try and join the Keldon Line so that, if he was allowed to do so, he could then relay confidential information to Thorwald and Myron.’
The girl was silent for a moment as if unable to comprehend such a startling piece of knowledge about her own father.
‘I understand,’ she said quietly, at last.
The matter was not referred to again, but Lavinia thought of their conversation often and worried for Jonathan’s safety.
During the Eldons’ stay at ‘Avonbridge’ Lavinia never once found herself alone with Jonathan and after they had left she could not decide whether she was pleased or sorry, for whilst it would have been a pleasure, at the same time she would have been fearful of appearing foolish in his eyes because of her shyness.
He had, of course, exchanged the usual idle conversation with her, but always during the presence of another member of the family. So Lavinia watched their carriage depart with sadness and wondered how long it would be before she would see Jonathan—or any of them—again.
‘Come and sit down, my child,’ Lord Rowan said. ‘I have something to tell you.’
Lavinia took one last glance at the disappearing carriage and turned from the window.
‘I have been talking with Lord and Lady Melmoth this week-end, and asking their advice about you.’
‘About m-me?’
‘Yes. You see, my dear, I cannot teach you all a young lady of your position ought to know.’
‘M-my position?’
‘Yes—you see I shall make you my sole heiress. You will one day be a lady of considerable standing and make a good marriage. But to do all this you must be educated properly. I could, of course, get a governess for you, but that would not give you a wider knowledge. You ought to travel, to see a bit of the world before you settle down with a husband and family.’
Lavinia did not know what her grandfather’s conversation was leading up to but she feared it all the same.
‘So I think you should go away to school for a year.’
‘G-go away,’ her voice was little more than a whisper.
‘Lavinia, I don’t want you to go—I’ll miss you more than I can say,’ he took her hands in his and looked into hers. ‘But it is for your own sake, do you understand?’
Dully, she nodded. Though her heart was breaking, she would have to do as her grandfather wished.
‘We think the best place is a finishing school in France.’
‘Abroad!’ She looked up, startled to retort. ‘So far away?’
‘France was your grandmother’s county. I want you to learn something of her people and nowhere else in the world will you learn the intricacies of social etiquette any better.’
‘A whole year away in France,’ she whispered.
‘It will soon go. Believe me, child, it will be far longer for me than for you.’
But Lavinia could not agree. A year away from Jonathan. A year in which so much could happen. He could be married by the time she returned.
Lavinia felt her heart breaking over Jonathan for the second time, even though this time he was not directly the cause of it.