The Village Spinster Page 9

  The earl looked around the small room while trying to appear nonchalant and uninterested. His sister spoke the words that he was obviously thinking.

  “So this is Miss Snolgrass's room,” Aria declared, her eyes wide with curiosity. “How very cozy. I wonder that with such a room she finds it bearable to be away so frequently."

  “I'm so glad you like it. Lorelia would be pleased.” Clarissa plumped up the pillow and added, “You are to make yourself perfectly at home. Use the drawers and the wardrobe, and see if there is any reading matter that appeals to you. I'm sure Max will be happy to keep you company."

  At Kinsford's startled look, Clarissa reminded him, “The dog. Max is currently curled up under my bed, but he'll be delighted to find an occupant here. He's a friendly soul."

  “Oh, yes,” Aria agreed. “Would you get him for me, Alexander?"

  The earl, who was not in the habit of wandering around people's homes uninvited, especially not those of young women in the country, protested. Clarissa was in the midst of measuring some of the fever mixture for her patient and she assured Kinsford that it would be perfectly all right for him to step next door and entice Max from his new resting spot.

  Before he returned, the dog came charging through the door, emitting piercing yaps of excitement. Dr. Lawrence frowned at the ruckus. “Lady Aria should have complete quiet in which to rest,” he said, regarding the dog doubtfully.

  Max bounded onto the bed and thrust his little muzzle under Aria's hand. She laughed and said, “He'll be quiet for me, Dr. Lawrence. And if he's not, I shan't mind."

  Belatedly Kinsford made an appearance, complaining, “I thought he was going to take a chunk out of my ankle. It's a good thing I had boots on. Aria, I'm not at all sure he's a fit companion for a sick girl."

  Aria's face grew stormy. Clarissa made no attempt to intervene. She was not convinced that she wanted a pet, even for the duration of Aria's stay. She could abide by Kinsford's decision on Max, whichever way it went. The brother and sister regarded each other with a heightening tension. It was Dr. Lawrence who spoke first.

  “These little dogs are occasionally averse to men. I've never known them to bite a woman. But mind you, Lady Aria, if his yapping keeps you awake so you don't get your proper rest, he shall have to go.” He turned to Lord Kinsford, with a persuasive smile. “Would that be satisfactory, sir? She seems quite taken with the little animal."

  Kinsford hesitated. His gaze momentarily rested on Clarissa, who gave no sign of her opinion one way or the other. Eventually he shrugged. “Very well. He can stay if he behaves himself. And if Miss Driscoll is willing to put up with him."

  “Well, of course she is,” Aria said with exasperation. “Will gave the dog to her."

  “Very thoughtful of him,” Kinsford murmured, as Clarissa remarked rather ambiguously, “Then it's settled. I think we should leave Lady Aria so she can get some rest."

  As the doctor prepared to leave, Kinsford said, “I should like a word with Miss Driscoll before I go,” and waited while Dr. Lawrence gathered up his hat and gloves from the hall stand.

  Clarissa then led him into the sitting room, which had already been tidied by Meg. It was rather a relief to have the room returned to its original purpose. She motioned to a chair as she took her accustomed seat on the sofa. There was a moment of silence as he seemed to organize his thoughts. His hands, strong but still, rested on his thighs.

  “Aria seems to be feeling all right at the moment, but she could easily become confused again,” he said. “I would offer, and am offering, to send someone from the Hall to keep watch over her at night, if you think that would be wise. Or if you could tolerate another person in your house."

  “I'm a light sleeper, Lord Kinsford. I think if she woke at night and moved about I would hear her.” Clarissa frowned. “But I might not, and I would hate for her to come to any harm."

  Kinsford said ruefully, “I dare say the dog would cause a commotion if Aria got up at night. That should be alarm enough."

  “Yes. But if you would feel more comfortable having someone from the Hall sit with her..."

  He seemed to consider the matter, his brows lowering over his astute blue eyes. Eventually he said, “Let's leave things as they are for the moment. If she should seem more disoriented, we might want to have someone with her. But for now...” He shrugged. “She's likely to sleep through the night with no problems."

  There was a knock at the door. Clarissa assumed it would be William, coming to check on his sister again. But she heard Steven Traling's voice from the hallway and saw Lord Kinsford's face tighten. He rose instantly to take his leave, and his voice, which had been thoughtful and kind, now had a slight edge.

  “If this all becomes too much for you to handle, Miss Driscoll, we will certainly manage to move my sister to the Hall without any damage. Good day."

  As he received his hat from Meg, Clarissa saw him nod minimally to Steven. Steven, never one to notice a slight, bowed to the earl, and said cheerfully, “How's our patient today?” It would have been difficult to know precisely what Kinsford said in reply, since he closed the door behind himself as he spoke.

  Chapter Ten

  Clarissa felt annoyed with Steven for showing up just then. This was an irrational annoyance and she refused to think about it. Instead she welcomed him into the sitting room as cordially as she was able and seated herself once more on the sofa.

  “So, your patient has left at last,” he remarked, making himself comfortable.

  “No, Lady Aria is still here."

  “She is?” He sounded disappointed. “Where?"

  “She's just upstairs in the spare room. There's some concern that the blow to her head may have done more significant damage than appeared at first. Dr. Lawrence doesn't want her bounced around, so he'd like her to stay here for a while."

  Steven winced. “You mean she may be sort of odd in the head from now on?"

  “Probably she'll heal perfectly, but she's had a few periods of disorientation that worry the doctor. That worry all of us."

  “Wouldn't she be better off at the Hall? There are so many more people there to take care of her."

  “I dare say she would be. It's just difficult to get her there without some danger of exacerbating her condition."

  Steven frowned. “This has become quite a burden to you, Clarissa. I think the earl could handle it better."

  Now Clarissa felt truly impatient with him. “It's not particularly a problem for me, and how do you propose Lord Kinsford is to change the situation?"

  “Well, he could move her to Mrs. Luden's house, for one thing. Someone could carry her that far."

  “But I'm her teacher ... and her friend, actually. If she's going to be in the village at all, she should be here."

  “I don't see that."

  “The only reason you don't see it is because it's disrupting your visits,” she accused.

  He was immediately contrite. “I suppose you're right,” he agreed with a slow, rueful smile. “I wanted your full attention. Jane's parents are driving me crazy. I can't say anything, or go anywhere, without their making some comment on it. And Jane is so close to her lying-in that she doesn't seem concerned with much else. I hate living in the same house with her parents! They just ruin everything."

  “You sound like a spoiled child,” Clarissa told him, but softened. “I know it's hard for you, Steven, especially now. But you're going to have to find a solution for yourself, and not just run to me with tales of their infamy."

  He sighed and cocked his head at her. “You didn't used to mind."

  “How do you know that?” she asked, teasing. “True, I have felt sorry for you. And I still do, Steven. But I have someone else at the moment who has an even stronger claim on my attention. Your concerns will have to take second place for a while.” She waved aside his protests. “Yes, I know, it's a very trying time for you. It is a frightening time for Lady Aria."

  “Does she think there's something wrong?
"

  “She knows things aren't quite right. I really should go up and see if she needs anything."

  “Of course.” He was instantly on his feet. “But if she's asleep, Clarissa, would you take a short walk with me? Please?"

  His eyes, pleading as a puppy, reminded her of Max. “I suppose we could walk the dog."

  “What dog? Since when have you a dog?"

  “William brought him this morning.” Clarissa brushed back a wisp of hair. She was not in the mood to explain to Steven. “Don't ask. I'll be back in a moment."

  Upstairs she found Aria sound asleep. Meg had placed a bell on the bedside table, ready for their patient to summon them if necessary. What a treasure Meg was! Clarissa would need to reward her for all the extra effort she was sustaining during this period, though how she was to manage this at the moment she could not quite imagine. Max lay curled against the girl but he jumped down at Clarissa's quiet summons and padded down the stairs after her.

  Clarissa explained to Meg where she was going, and led her small party out of the cottage and down the lane which led to the fields beyond. Max barked excitedly, causing Steven to grimace at Clarissa. “Does he do that all the time?” he asked. “It would get on my nerves."

  “I've only had him for a few hours,” Clarissa protested. “I haven't the slightest idea how much he barks. But you may be sure William can have him back if he's going to be a nuisance to me and the neighbors.”

  The little dog was yapping excitedly as he scurried along the lane, sniffing at everything that came in his path. He would get ahead of them, only to circle back, enthusiastically barking as he faced them once more. Clarissa clapped her hands. “Enough, Max.” He responded, to some degree, by hushing for a moment, only to yap again as he charged off.

  Steven grinned at her. “He's obviously going to be easy to train. Want me to try my hand at it?"

  Clarissa was not at all sure she did, but she nodded. Steven, in a commanding voice, ordered the dog to come to him. Max eyed him with suspicion for a moment, then amenably trotted back to sit down in front of him, cocking his head to one side. He looked so adorable that Clarissa couldn't help laughing. Max barked in accord.

  “No!” Steven snapped his fingers and the dog regarded him curiously. And barked. Steven tapped the dog's nose and repeated his “no,” and Max slunk down on his haunches as though he'd been beaten. Obviously a dog of great sensitivity, Clarissa thought.

  “Now don't encourage him,” Steven protested. “He'll never learn that way."

  “I'd be surprised if he learned in any case,” she said, and continued to walk along the lane. There was a stile onto a footpath crossing the hillock to the church and she led the way over it. Max scampered after her, ignoring Steven's command to stay. Clarissa shook her head. “Don't bother with him, Steven. I doubt if he's trainable at his age and I probably won't keep him anyhow."

  “What about Lady Aria? Isn't she fond of him already?"

  “Well, that's how I thought I'd get rid of him,” Clarissa admitted. She reached down absently to pet the little dog. “She'll probably want to take him back when she returns to the Hall. So I don't intend to get too devoted to him."

  The footpath was narrow and a little rough. Clarissa hadn't changed into her walking shoes and she could feel the pebbles through the thin soles of her slippers. But the day was glorious, sun streaming down and the smell of new spring growth. There were birds caroling in the bushes. Max darted about, chasing wisps of straw or blades of grass. When they came abreast of an old log, Clarissa sat down and made room for Steven.

  “Aren't we going to trudge for miles?” he asked as he seated himself.

  “Not today.” Clarissa watched Max as he scurried off and hastened back. “How's Jane feeling? She must be due for her lying-in any day now."

  “Not for a week, and her doctor said it might be two. She's a little tired and rather nervous. Things upset her easily. I seem to get on her nerves."

  He looked so woebegone that Clarissa patted his hand in sympathy. “She'll get over it, you know. This isn't a time to have your feelings hurt. She's the one, after all, who's facing a frightening time."

  He sighed. A frown drew down his brows. For a long time he stared off toward the horizon, where a lone tree's branches were etched against the blue sky. “One of her friends died in childbed a few weeks ago,” he finally said. “We don't talk about it, but it's there between us, the fear. What if she died, Clarissa? What would I do?"

  “She's not going to die,” Clarissa said bracingly. “She's a healthy young woman and she's taken good care of herself during these long months. What she probably needs is a good distraction and I can't think of anyone better than you at distracting someone."

  “She'd rather have her mother there,” he rejoined, morose.

  “Well, her mother has had a child. It must be reassuring to talk with her."

  Max returned to nudge against Clarissa's leg. She ignored him and he jumped up into her lap. Shaking her head with amused acceptance, she continued to concentrate her attention on Steven.

  “Her mother keeps saying how useless men are at such a time, hinting that her husband went off hunting right when she was about to have Jane."

  “Perhaps he did. You could very well be here visiting me when your own wife delivers, if you're not careful."

  “I know. And I'd stay there twenty-four hours a day except that her parents drive me crazy, and Jane herself shoos me out of the house, telling me not to hang about all day, that it makes her edgy. What am I to say to that?"

  “I wouldn't argue with her about it,” Clarissa counseled. “And I'd make sure your whereabouts are always known, so you can be reached when she needs you.” At his frown, she added, “You don't have to tell her or her parents. Perhaps you trust one of the servants, or a friend they could reach."

  “Perhaps. I hate to be so tied down,” he grumbled.

  “I dare say your wife isn't just thrilled that she can't do whatever she wishes, either. That's simply the way things are, Steven. We'd all like to be able to do whatever we please, but it just isn't possible."

  He seemed to hear a special note in her voice and regarded her quizzically. “What would you want to do, Clarissa? If you could do anything you wanted."

  As a game, it seemed a good distraction. But Clarissa wasn't about to tell him the whole truth. “Well, if I were rich, I'd have a home here in the country, much like Pennhurst, with a stable full of horses and lots of servants to keep all the rooms sparkling. And then I'd have a house in London, too, where I'd go for the Season. I'd see all the plays and attend all the musical evenings I could fit into my schedule."

  “When did you develop this love for London?"

  “My father took me there when I was younger. Perhaps half a dozen times. It was always delightful. So exciting to live amidst all that bustle. Father knew a number of fascinating people, too. Poets, painters, politicians.” She smiled reminiscently, stroking the little dog in her lap. “I miss that. Not that I would have wanted to live there year-round. But to visit occasionally..."

  “Now me, I wouldn't mind in the least living there permanently,” Steven said. “Especially if Jane's parents didn't."

  “You'd enjoy living anywhere they didn't,” she retorted.

  “Not at all! I should hate living in Yorkshire, for instance. Far too far away from everything. And too rugged for a gentle soul like me."

  Clarissa appreciated his poking fun at himself. Steven was hardly a gentle soul, but restored to his usual equanimity, he was easygoing and humorous. His brightness lit her sometimes somber life. If it had been difficult for her to descend to scraping by after her former privileged life, it seemed even more formidable for the Pennwick villagers to accept her as one of them. They were polite, even kind on occasion, but they did not open their hearts to her; they could not seem to offer her friendship on an equal basis.

  With Steven she could feel herself again. In many ways they offered each other the solace they
found lacking in their lives. Though Clarissa didn't particularly mind giving lessons to the sons and daughters of the local gentry, it was not a lucrative endeavor and she would not like it at all if she had to open a dame school, with all its demands. Steven was the only one to whom she could confide these things, and it made her treasure his company. Not for appearances, not even for the sake of retaining the earl's brother and sister as pupils, would she have given up his visits. His wife's peace of mind, however, was a different matter.

  “Jane does know that you come to visit me, doesn't she?” Clarissa asked.

  Steven tugged at his earlobe, considering. “Well, I've told her that I see you sometimes. You're a relative, after all. She's suggested that you come to visit us, but you wouldn't like that."

  “How do you know I wouldn't?"

  “Well, because everyone would be curious about you, especially her mother. A difficult woman. She'd pry into your business, and pity you because you'd come down in the world, and just generally make you feel miserable."

  “What a pleasant picture you paint!"

  “Oh, you could ignore her, I suppose, but that would be rude, wouldn't it? And her father is on the loose-screw side. Well, I've told you stories about him, all of them true, I swear!"

  “I've often wondered how these two paragons produced your sweet Jane.”

  “I credit her governess,” he said, in all sincerity. “Remarkable woman. Patience of a saint, sharp as a tack. I honestly think Jane is as devoted to her as she is to her mother. Maybe more so, only she would never admit it."

  “Is the governess in Bath?"

  “Yes, but with another family now. She and Jane have often arranged to meet on her half-days off. I think Jane misses her, now that she hardly goes out."