Mama and Lorna were eagerly awaiting my return. “Well, what did they say?” Mama asked, the instant I came through the door.
I repeated the conversation word for word as well as I could remember it, then I returned Lorna’s ring to her. “They had to admit it was their mama’s ring when they read the inscription.”
“And how the deuce did they think I got it if Mama did not give it to me?” Lorna asked with an angry tsk.
“They said Lorna never wore it, and perhaps she had pawned it in Colchester.”
“Pooh! They have an excuse for everything. If it had been pawned it would have been done twenty years ago. How did they think I got it, living off in Europe?”
“They must think you weren’t in Europe.”
“The ring would not have sat in the shop all these years. Surely they cannot believe I bought it twenty years ago and have waited all this time to carry out some wicked impersonation.”
“I don’t know what they think, Lorna. I’m just telling you what they said.”
“You did your best, Katie, and I thank you for it,” Lorna said. “I know they are formidable. You see what I am up against.”
After an hour’s discussion of the visit and futile plans to prove Lorna’s identity and a few animadversions on the pearl ring by Mama, I said, “Lady Lorna must be tired of sitting about the house all day, Mama. Why do not she and I go riding?”
Mama no longer enjoys riding. She once took a tumble while enceinte, losing what would have been a much-wanted son for her and Papa and a brother for me. Other than that she was not badly hurt, but she hasn’t enjoyed riding since. When her mount died of old age, she did not replace it. Squire Beamer, a keen rider, encourages her to ride and gave her a sweet-tempered bay mare called Lady. I coax Mama out for a very dull ride occasionally when the weather is fine.
“Where would I get a mount?” Lady Lorna asked.
“Mama has one. Not the spirited sort of mount you were accustomed to, I daresay.”
“It sounds lovely, Katie, but I don’t have a riding habit and don’t want to ruin my one decent suit.” In fact, she had very few outfits at all. Just the suit she arrived in and one bordeau coloured gown for evening, another second hand gown bought for her homecoming. I enjoy riding and had three habits. I would gladly have lent her one, but it wouldn’t begin to fit her. “You can wear mine,” Mama said at once.
Lorna hesitated, and I could see why. Mama is three or four inches shorter and a few inches broader than Lorna. “I don’t know if I could remember how to ride,” she said. “I haven’t ridden anything but mules for years. No, I don’t believe I will, Katie. Thank you all the same. But you go ahead. Lucy and I will chat. Soon, though — tomorrow perhaps, I would appreciate a drive into town. I need things, you know. Some light weight material for a summer gown, and stockings and so on.”
“We can do that now, if you like,” I said at once. “I don’t have to go riding.”
Mama agreed to this outing. We were about to order the carriage when Squire Beamer arrived. He is not at all handsome or dashing, just a nice, middle-aged bachelor with snuff coloured hair going thin on top, red cheeks and a ready smile. Quite a typical English squire — sensible, bluff, hardy, a little stout, a little loud spoken and very good humoured. Mama calls him Bernie.
It was clear immediately that he had heard of our visitor and come to see her for himself. His first warm smile is always for Mama, then a smile and greeting for me. His eyes turned first to Lorna that day, and lingered an unseemly length of time. I don’t mean he was struck by her beauty, though she was attractive. It was not that sort of look. More — assessing, as if she were a mare he was thinking of buying.
But he bowed and said politely, “Lady Lorna, nice to see you again.” She smiled and said “Good day, Mr. Beamer.”
“Oh, you recognize her!” I cried. “Then you can tell Acton she is indeed Lady Lorna. They refuse to believe it at the Abbey.”
Beamer, usually so pleasant and obliging, obviously didn’t want anything to do with this. “Why, truth to tell I did not recognize her. I had heard in town she was back. You must know I hardly knew Lady Lorna in the old days. We met a few times here and there. I daresay she wouldn’t have recognized me either if we’d met on the street.”
“I believe I would,” Lorna said, her smile indicating he was not the sort of gentleman a lady forgot in a hurry, “How do things go on at Ardleigh Hall? Are you still breeding those excellent Ayreshires?”
That brought a smile to his face. “Indeed I am! Lucy must bring you to tea one day soon.”
“I should like it of all things. That is the very civilized sort of thing I have been missing.”
This led to questions about where she had been, and as I had heard it before and as it was such a beautiful day, I excused myself and went for my ride. If I am riding into town I have the accompaniment of a groom, but for just riding about our own estate, I go alone. I hardly noticed the beauty of the meadow sprinkled with wild flowers, and the willows drooping over the stream as I rode on. My whole mind was preoccupied with Lady Lorna and the Actons’ adamant refusal to recognize her. I was sorry Beamer could not remember her. I would take her into town tomorrow. Perhaps we’d meet some old friends there who could help her cause.
The difficulty was that even if folks did recognize her, they would be reluctant to set themselves up against the Actons. And the same applied to the old servants at the Abbey. Even if they knew perfectly well she was indeed Lady Lorna, they would not displease their master by contradicting him. Another thing to be looked into was Acton’s financial position. If he was deep in dun territory ... and how the deuce could we find that out? Neither his banker nor his man of business would reveal such details.
There had to be someone other than Mama who could help us. Where did Lorna go to school, for instance? Who made up her gowns? Did she have any birthmarks, a mole or strawberry mark or a scar from some accident? She was said to be a bruising rider, but as she hadn’t ridden in two decades she would have lost that skill. Was she a good pianist, singer? Did she have any special talents she could display? Or would such accomplishments, like the riding, have been lost over the years?
My rumbling stomach reminded me it was time to head home. Squire Beamer’s carriage was just being brought around when I arrived. He doffed his hat and asked me if I had enjoyed my ride. When I had assured him I had, he said, rather tentatively, “What do you think of your mama’s house guest, Kate? Do you think she’s the goods?”
“Of course I do, Squire. Mama is certain of it.”
“The Actons ain’t, I hear?”
“I see they wasted no time letting it be known,” I sniffed.
“You can’t keep such news as that quiet. It is the talk of the neighbourhood, There has not been such an uproar since the day Lady Lorna disappeared. I could say nothing with her there listening, but I wish you would give your mama the hint not to become too close to her. Just in case, you know. I mean to say, if she ain’t the real thing, she’s nothing but a scoundrel. I would dislike to see your mama used in that way.”
“Don’t you think she is Lady Lorna, Squire? She remembered you, and your Ayreshires, and Ardleigh Hall.”
“That wouldn’t be hard to find out, Kate. I am known hereabouts. Folks never called me anything but Squire. She called me Mr. Beamer.”
“I didn’t notice. But she just arrived yesterday, so how could she have heard about Ardleigh Hall?”
“She might have weaseled it out of your mama. It came out in our chat that Lucy had been speaking of me. As to arriving yesterday, you have only her word for when she got here. She says she arrived on the stage at Colchester at three o’clock in the afternoon. I mean to make a few enquiries and see if she did. You won’t tell your mama what I’m up to.”
I looked him in the eye and said, “Are you afraid of displeasing Acton, Squire? Is that it?”
“Now, Kate, you know me better than that,” he said, hurt at the imputation. “Acton can do me no harm. Unlike half the neighbourhood, I am not beholden to him in any way. I just have the feeling the woman don’t go flat all around, like a bad nag. She listens too hard for one thing, as if she’s trying to pick up things. And she don’t answer a straightforward question either. I don’t know. She might be Lady Lorna. She does look something like her, though not so pretty as I remember. Just keep your eyes and ears open. She might make a slip. We don’t want Lucy to be hurt.”
“I’ll do that, Squire. Mama feels that Acton just doesn’t want to part with Lorna’s dowry. Would you know if he is in any sort of financial trouble?”
“If he is, it’s not known hereabouts. He was always well to grass. He owns not only the Abbey but Willow Hall, and that smaller estate is not entailed, so he could sell it if he was is in dun territory. He don’t gamble for high stakes, and he’s a shrewd businessman. I know he is developing some cottages in St. John’s Wood, and that takes blunt.”
“Perhaps he’s using Lady Lorna’s money to build those cottages,” I suggested.
“If she can prove that, she’s a lucky lady. He’ll make a good penny on them. Just keep your eyes open, Kate. That’s all I ask.”
I said I would to please him, though my belief in Lorna held firm. I kept going back to the old question — why were the Actons so dead set against her? No lack of money was visible at the Abbey. Everything was done on the grand scale. The house was not allowed to run down. Only last year the slate roof had been replaced, and that is an expensive undertaking.
Acton was not cutting any of his oaks. The horses, carriages and the ladies’ gowns were as fine as ever. There was no rumour of unpaid wages, and that is the sort of thing one always hears. Yet they all said with absolute conviction that she was not Lorna.
I considered Lady Mary’s reason for Mama’s eagerness to claim her old friend. Mama did speak fondly of “the old days” when her friendship with Lorna gave her and Papa the entree to all the finest houses. She sometimes spoke of grand house parties that lasted a week, mingling with fine lords and ladies, and once the Prime Minister. Why hadn’t that continued after Lorna was taken away?
If Papa had enjoyed it so much he could have ingratiated himself enough not to be excluded entirely. I couldn’t recall his ever regretting the loss of high society. Had Lady Mary invented the whole thing, or at least exaggerated it? Mama had not seemed bored to flinders all those years, as if she were missing the excitement of society.
If she had been, I must be the most self-centered creature alive for I had never detected anything of the sort. But I was just a babe when it happened, and many years had passed before I was old enough to notice such things. I was reluctant to return inside. I walked back towards the spinney, thinking, trying to remember.
I did recall Mama’s complaining at my not being presented in London. Acton’s younger sister and my friend, Lady Susan, had been presented, of course. That is where she met her marquess. I remembered Mama saying that if Lorna were still here, she would see that I got my Season. Papa was ill that spring, and she could not take me herself. Then Papa died and we forgot such frivolities as debuts.
As I entered the spinney I heard voices and stopped to see who was there. My first thought was that it was our bailiff, and I wondered if he had caught a poacher in broad daylight. I was surprised to see it was Lorna, talking to a man I soon recognized as Taylor, Acton’s half-brother. I was struck at once by the resemblance between them, especially the strong Acton nose, seen in profile as they faced each other. They both glanced up when they heard me. I had the feeling Taylor was unhappy to see me. He nodded curtly, said something to Lorna, and went on into the spinney. Lorna came forward and joined me.
Before I could ask she said, “That was Taylor. He’s hardly changed at all. I recognized him at once.”
“What was he doing here?”
“His dog got away from him and he’s chasing him.”
“Did he recognize you?” I asked eagerly.
“I’m sure he did, though he didn’t admit it. I thought I would give Lucy and Beamer some privacy and went out for a walk. He seems very fond of Lucy. I’m happy she’s found someone to love. When you have no one, you appreciate the importance of that.”
“You have me and Mama, Lorna,” I said impulsively and gave her a hug to cheer her up. I was more determined than ever to prove her bona fides and re-establish her at the Abbey. I would keep my eyes and ears open, but I would be looking for ways of proving she was indeed Lady Lorna. I felt in my bones she was who I thought she was — a brave, inspiring lady who was willing to take on the whole county to recover her status.