Hester was still feeling somewhat subdued when luncheon was finished. Although she would have been quite happy to take bread, cheese and ale at the kitchen table, Susan and Maria were both shocked at the thought.
‘Not with outside staff present,’ Miss Prudhome pronounced and Susan sniffed and nodded her agreement.
Hester supposed they were right; it was all part of appearing to be the upright, conventional spinster that she must now portray herself as being. Doubtless news of any unconventional behaviour would be all around the village in no time and would soon reach the ears of Mrs Redland and Mrs Bunting.
So she and Maria sat down in the dining room and partook of exactly the same meal, only off china and glass instead of earthenware and pewter, served by Susan wearing a crisp white apron.
‘That Ben Aston’s fishing to know if anything odd’s been happening,’ she reported as she cleared the plates and brought in a bowl of fruit. ‘I told him that Jethro near breaking his neck was more than enough oddity for us and none of us held with nonsense about ghosts and he didn’t ask any more.’ She glanced towards the door. ‘I reckon the whole village is waiting to find out if the stories about the strange goings-on are true.’
This aspect of village curiosity had not occurred to Hester and she tapped her fruit knife thoughtfully against her plate as she considered it. ‘I don’t think having Aston and the women here will do any harm, providing we are all discreet. Everyone will soon get bored if they don’t hear of any strange happenings, and beside anything else, they will be able to observe that there is no truth in all that nonsense you heard at the Bird in Hand about his lordship.’
‘Not if they know he was here at three in the morning,’ Susan observed pertly, whisking out of the door before Hester could retort.
She finished her apple and got to her feet. ‘Would you care to come into Tring with me, Maria’?’
‘Thank you, but I promised Mrs Bunting I would help her with the church flowers this afternoon.’ She broke off with one of her anxious twittering noises. ‘Oh, but Jethro cannot accompany you-should I send to let Mrs Bunting know I cannot join her after all?’
‘No, there is no need for that. I am sure; this is hardly London, Maria. I am sure a lady can shop in a small market town without any fear of causing comment.’ And it would be pleasant to be alone for a few hours, she mused as she collected the list of things Susan had thought of that could not be pur
chased at the village shop.
Ben Aston harnessed Hector and she set off in the gig, feeling quite adventurous. She had often driven alone when in Portugal, but never in England, and, although the roads were far superior, the traffic was heavier. For the first time she could not rely on having Jethro to jump down and take Hector’s head, or check for her that she was not too close to the kerb on narrow streets.
Halfway down the length of the Green she came upon Annabelle Redland, strolling along, her bonnet dangling by its strings from one negligent hand, an expression of dissatisfaction on her face.
‘Good afternoon.’ Hester reined in. ‘A pleasant day for a walk, is it not?’
‘I suppose so,’ Annabelle agreed, ‘providing that is what one wishes to do.’
‘And you do not?’
‘No. Mama said we could go for a drive, but now there is the most dreadful row over the downstairs maid who is…’ she lowered her voice, although there was not another person within fifty yards ‘…in an unfortunate condition.’
‘Oh dear,’ Hester said sympathetically. ‘Is the father willing to marry her?’
‘She will not say who it is, that is why there is such a dreadful row,’ confided Miss Redland. ‘Mama is threatening to call in the vicar and I am not supposed to know anything about it so I have to go out for a walk.’
‘Would you care to come into Tring with me?’ Hester offered. ‘I only have a rather tiresome shopping list, but it would be a change of scene.’
‘Yes, please.’ Miss Redland was up on the seat beside Hester without a second’s thought.
‘I will just turn back and ask Ben Aston to take a message to your mother to let her know where you are.’ Hester executed a turn she felt quietly pleased with and urged Hector to trot back.
‘There is a very good drapers in Tring,’ Annabelle confided. ‘And a confectioners where one can get hot chocolate and ices.’
Ben Aston listened to the message arid agreed to call at the Redlands’ house on his way back home. ‘I was just finishing up, Miss Lattimer. I’ve put all the bits and bobs young Ackland thought you’d want to look at back in the first shed, and I’ll have a bonfire of the rest just as soon as the wind’s turned a bit westerly, otherwise all the washing’ll get smudgy.’ He crammed his hat back on his head and strode off.
‘They say he’s a terrible poacher,’ Annabelle confided as they set off down the Green again. ‘But he’s a hard worker, everyone agrees. And very reliable.’ After this observation she fell silent, then enquired artlessly, ‘Have you seen much of Lord Buckland?’
Hester turned on to the turnpike road. ‘One cannot help it as he lives opposite, but socially, no, not since Mrs Bunting’s At Home. He has been very kind in lending us staff since Jethro fell down the stairs.’
‘Oh.’ Annabelle sounded disappointed. ‘I thought perhaps you might be having a dinner party or something soon.’
‘I can hardly do such a thing as a single lady,’ Hester pointed out. ‘Perhaps your mother is planning some entertainment and you will meet him again then.’ Rather mischievously she added, ‘I expect, like all of us, you are interested by the mystery his presence here poses.’
‘I do not care in the slightest why he is here, only that he stays,’ Miss Redland declared frankly. ‘He is so glamorous, do you not think, Miss Lattimer?’
‘Glamorous?’ Hester considered the question, a not unpleasant excuse to think about Guy Westrope. ‘I suppose he is very sophisticated for village society.’