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  ‘You know that can’t happen. The expense would be enormous and --’

  ‘Mama would help. She’s offered before and would again.’

  ‘I know – and it’s kind of her. But Papa is adamant about not accepting what he regards as charity.’

  ‘Then we could share,’ persisted Arabella. ‘I have more gowns than I need and we are of almost exactly the same size. Also, if the duchess invites me, I don’t see why she wouldn’t invite you, too, since you’re no less related to the duke than I am. In fact, why don’t we find Mama now and --’

  ‘Belle, no. It’s lovely of you to think of it – but it won’t do. You know it won’t. And not just because of the money. Papa will say a visit to London would only leave me neither fish nor fowl – which it probably would.’ Elizabeth took a long breath and then said, ‘I wasn’t going to mention it just yet … but I’ve started looking for a position.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Don’t sound so shocked. It had to happen at some point. I’m twenty-three years old and --’

  ‘That’s not exactly ancient, is it?’

  ‘It’s nearly two years older than you,’ retorted Elizabeth. ‘But the point is that, given my circumstances, I’m very unlikely to marry, so finding a suitable position will help the whole family – particularly Flora and Tilly.’

  ‘What sort of position?’

  ‘As a governess, perhaps … or a companion to some elderly lady.’

  Arabella looked horrified. ‘Lizzie … you can’t. Does Aunt Maria know?’

  ‘Yes, I can – and of course Mama knows. To be honest, I’d prefer some measure of independence to dwindling into an old maid in the place I’ve lived all my life.’

  ‘Will being an old maid somewhere else be any better?’ demanded Arabella mutinously. Then, seeing her cousin’s expression, ‘I’m sorry. That was horrid and I didn’t mean it as it sounded. But this isn’t right – it just isn’t. I’d always hoped that one day perhaps you and Adam might … well, you know.’

  Elizabeth’s colour rose a little. There had been a time not so long ago when she had hoped the same thing but nothing had come of it. She said, ‘Adam is my first cousin – just as you are. No one would have been happy about a match between us. Look, Belle … can we please stop this? Nothing is decided yet – not me taking a position or you going to London – so there’s no point worrying about it.’

  ‘Perhaps not,’ agreed Arabella, with all the appearance of giving way but thinking, And until things are certain, there’s still a chance of changing them. We’ll see.

  * * *

  Unaware that her cousin was about to embark upon a renewed campaign to enlist her mother’s help in overcoming the Reverend Marsden’s scruples about accepting financial assistance, Elizabeth went home to contemplate an advertisement she had cut from the Morning Chronicle a week ago and already knew by heart.

  Mature lady required to oversee the running of a gentleman’s establishment and also regulate the care of young children. Flexible terms upon application.

  Elizabeth wasn’t sure what ‘flexible terms’ meant. What she was sure of was that there was something unusual about someone seeking a combined housekeeper-governess, since both roles were full-time occupations. Despite this – or perhaps because of it – the advertisement intrigued her. At first, she told herself she was merely curious. Then she told herself that the best way of learning how to apply for a position would be to actually do it. And finally, she assured herself that, since twenty-three could hardly be considered ‘mature’, there was no possibility of her application being successful. Really, she thought, it couldn’t do any harm just to send an enquiry. She was unlikely to even get a reply. So no one need ever know anything about it, need they?

  Making sure that Mama was busy in the garden, Flora copying out Papa’s sermon and Tilly, out on the regular round of sick-visiting, Elizabeth sat down to compose a mature-sounding letter, describing her various capabilities in an only slightly exaggerated way which absolutely did not count as lying.

  * * *

  Finally yielding to Arabella’s persistence, Lady Brandon had a long conversation with her sister and an even longer, but wholly unproductive one, with her courteous and completely intractable brother-in-law.

  ‘It is not merely a question of money, Louisa – though I believe in doing the best I can for my family whilst living within my means,’ said Josiah gently. ‘But I am also conscious of what will ultimately be best for Elizabeth. Such entertainments as she would find in London cannot help but leave her dissatisfied with life when she returns home – as, inevitably, she must.’

  ‘Is it inevitable?’ asked her ladyship bluntly. ‘She might attract a husband.’

  ‘In the highest level of society with a dowry most would call negligible? Even you must admit the unlikelihood of that.’

  ‘Not necessarily. Lizzie is a beautiful, sweet-natured girl so it is by no means inconceivable that a gentleman might want her just for herself. Also, she would be presented to society as a relative of the Duke of Rockliffe. I imagine some men might find that connection more valuable than money.’

  ‘I suppose that may be true,’ replied the reverend, ‘although such an attitude does not recommend itself to me. Neither can I approve of the moral laxity of the haute monde – or want my daughter exposed to it.’

  Louisa sat up very straight.

  ‘Whose morality are you questioning, Josiah? Rockliffe’s – or that of his duchess?’

  ‘Neither. It is not for me to judge them.’

  ‘Quite.’ Putting aside her annoyance, she said, ‘If Lizzie should be invited along with Belle, Maria is quite happy for her to go. You are aware of this?’

  ‘Of course. And in most respects relating to the rearing of our daughters, Maria’s word is law. But not,’ he concluded, ‘in this one.’

  ‘I see.’ Louisa rose and shook out her skirts. ‘In that case, there is no more to be said.’

  * * *

  Ten days later, letters arrived at both Brandon Lacey and the Knaresborough vicarage.

  Elizabeth managed to extract hers from amidst the rest of the post and tuck it away for perusal later, in private.

  Lady Brandon, meanwhile, read the Duchess of Rockliffe’s friendly and forthright missive, then went in search of her daughter. She found her, clad in an old gown and a broad straw hat and carrying a basket containing bread, cold meat and ale.

  ‘Max hopes they’ll finish pulling the flax today so none of them will remember to eat,’ explained Arabella. ‘I’ve asked Hawkes to send supplies down for the workers but thought I’d take this to the boys myself and see how they’re getting on.’

  Her mother nodded. The bond between Arabella and her older brothers was uncommonly strong. They had helped her climb trees and caught her when she fell out of them; they’d taught her to ride nearly as well as they could themselves and how to fire a pistol and what to do if a fellow didn’t keep his hands to himself. Max, in particular, had tried to be the father they had all lost when Arabella was twelve and he himself just shy of twenty. It had made Louisa’s decision never to consider replacing the love of her life easier on all of them.

  ‘Then I won’t keep you,’ she said, smiling. ‘I merely wanted to tell you that the duchess has answered my letter.’

  Arabella set the basket down with a little thump. ‘And?’

  ‘And she will be delighted to present you to society, suggests that you travel to London within the next month and very much looks forward to welcoming you. You can read her letter for yourself later – she writes with genuine warmth and kindness which I’ll confess is a relief.’ Louisa eyed her daughter shrewdly. ‘Why don’t you look thrilled?’

  ‘I should, shouldn’t I?’ Arabella sighed. ‘But I’m not sure I want to go.’

  ‘Why not?’

  Because if I receive an eligible offer of marriage, I’ll be expected to accept it, she thought despairingly. But unless it comes from a gentleman who doesn’
t regard virginity as a prime requirement, I can’t – and that’s not a question I can very well ask him.

  She said, ‘There are girls who know about David jilting me and who will be making their curtsy this season. I can’t … I just can’t bear the thought of having to go through it all again.’

  ‘That is understandable – though as a guest of the Duke and Duchess of Rockliffe, I doubt that kind of gossip need concern you. But we can discuss that later – as well as the fact that, without being asked, the duchess has included Elizabeth in her invitation.’

  Arabella’s expression brightened. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes. But don’t expect anything to come of it. Although I’ll speak to him again, I doubt your Uncle Josiah will budge. Now – take the boys their meal. And talk to Max.’

  By the time Arabella arrived on the scene, two footmen were already handing out parcels of food and drink to the tenants and estate workers, while her brothers – coatless, hatless and as filthy as everyone else – were wandering around, speaking to this one or that before raiding the contents of their sister’s basket and settling down to their own meal. Leo found a place under a tree, with the inevitable sketch-pad; Adam and the blacksmith indulged in a heated discussion which, knowing Adam, probably had something to do with weapons; and Max dropped on the grass beside Arabella, saying, ‘Not that I don’t appreciate it, but what brings you down here? You’ve never liked seeing the flax fields stripped.’

  ‘Silly, isn’t it? But it’s so beautiful when it’s in full flower and still pretty when it goes to seed.’ She shrugged. ‘Do you ever wonder what Great-Great-Grandfather Gabriel would think if he could see Brandon Lacey now?’

  ‘Every year, Belle.’ Max reached for a stone-ware bottle and half-drained it. ‘At lambing, at first-clip and at shearing; when we plant the flax and when we pull it. Everything we do here is based on what Gabriel started. The only things that have changed are the size of our holdings and more modern equipment. I like to think he’d approve.’ He reached for another slice of pie and looked sideways at her. ‘Now. Why are you really here?’

  ‘Isn’t bringing you food enough?’

  He shrugged, took a bite of pie and waited.

  Arabella sighed. Of all her brothers, Max had always known her best.

  ‘Mama has heard from the duchess.’ Briefly, she told him what she knew of the duchess’s letter, concluding with, ‘But even though Lizzie has been invited as well, Mama says Uncle Josiah still won’t permit her to go.’

  ‘Uncle Josiah means well but is completely mutton-headed at times,’ responded Max without heat. ‘This is the best chance Lizzie will ever get and it’s short-sighted of him not to recognise it.’

  ‘If she doesn’t come to London, she’ll be taking a position as a governess or some such. She’s already talking about it. So she needs this, Max. She needs it more than I do.’

  ‘No. You both need it equally. Lizzie, because she deserves more out of life than she’s likely to get. And you because you’ve let David’s defection turn you into a hermit.’

  ‘I have not.’

  ‘You have … and in certain senses, I can understand why and sympathise.’ He fell silent for a time, as if deciding whether or not to say what was in his mind. Finally, however, he said, ‘Although I was furious for your sake when Andrew brought us the news, I always thought it unlikely that the attachment between you and David would weather such a long separation. Clearly, his didn’t … and I don’t think yours did either. But you’re not the girl you were before any of this happened; the girl who liked stupid jokes and rode like the wind and ran barefoot on the grass.’ He paused and shrugged again. ‘I don’t know why that is – and I’m not asking. But selfishly, I’d like my sister back.’

  Tears stung Arabella’s eyes and she turned away to hide them.

  Max reached out and folded her hand in his. ‘Go to London and enjoy yourself – unless you want to spend the rest of your life never seeing anything beyond Yorkshire?’

  ‘Oh.’ She had never looked at it in that way. ‘No. I don’t.’

  ‘Good. So come riding with me tomorrow and show me that my intrepid little sister – the girl who always gave as good as she got and laughed while she was doing it – hasn’t disappeared for good.’

  * * *

  Elizabeth brooded over the letter like a sparrow with a hen’s egg. Because it was so unexpected, she hadn’t given any consideration to the possibility that her application for the mysterious position might be accepted. That it had been was therefore both baffling and awkward. And then there was the strangeness of the reply itself.

  It had been written, not by her prospective employer, but by a doctor claiming to be that gentleman’s friend and neighbour.

  I have undertaken this task on his lordship’s behalf, it said, because in this matter, like so many of the others currently facing him, he has no experience. His situation is this. He has recently inherited a title, along with all the responsibilities that go with it. Shouldering these burdens has required personal sacrifice on his part; but though he is doing his best, he is struggling. My wife and I have concluded that if his lordship’s household and the children within it were regulated by a woman of sense and firm disposition, he would have one less cross to bear. I have no hesitation in describing him as an honourable man, Mistress Marsden, and you may count on the support of my wife and myself, at need. It is my hope that you will not only accept the challenge but be in a position to shoulder it soon. If you have doubts, a trial period would be acceptable. I look forward to hearing from you,

  P. Featherstone, Physician

  Beckingham, Nr. Newark, Nottinghamshire

  There was a second sheet, promising reimbursement of her travelling expenses and outlining a modest stipend for the first three months – to be paid whether or not she remained for the entire period and re-negotiated at the end of it. It all sounded eminently fair and very respectable. Unfortunately, because Elizabeth hadn’t been able to supply any references, it also sounded a bit too good to be true.

  The question, she decided, was whether or not she wanted to accept the offer. If she didn’t, she had merely to write back saying that she was no longer available. But if she did … she could do nothing further until she had spoken to Mama. And that meant showing her Dr Featherstone’s letter.

  Mama read it … then read it again. Finally, she looked up and said, ‘How did you manage this, Lizzie? What did you say that brought you the offer of this position, despite being unable to supply a character?’

  ‘I didn’t lie,’ said Elizabeth quickly. ‘I said that my circumstances dictated the necessity of seeking suitable employment – the inference being that I hadn’t done so before. Then I just described the things I do here. Household matters, helping out at the charity school … that sort of thing.’ She hesitated, before adding uncomfortably, ‘I may have given the impression of – of being a little older than I actually am. But mostly, I think it’s come about because this newly-titled gentleman is somewhat desperate.’

  ‘Well, there I agree with you. One would think such an inheritance a good thing … but from what the doctor says, the poor man is quite distracted. Of course, since he is clearly a widower, the children must be a worry to him. It is a pity we are not told how many there are and of what ages. It is also remiss of this doctor not to include their father’s name and precise direction. Rather odd, in fact.’

  Elizabeth had thought the same thing but discovered that she didn’t want to dwell on possible stumbling-blocks. She said, ‘I didn’t expect to be offered the post, Mama. But now I have been, I’d like to consider whether or not to accept – with your and Papa’s permission, of course. However, before any definite decision can be made, I must write again insisting on more information – not just about the children but about the gentleman who would be my employer. Does that sound sensible?’

  Maria Marsden looked thoughtfully at her eldest daughter.

  ‘You are always sensible, Lizzie
… and I will speak to your father, if that is what you want. But let us be clear. As I have said before, there is no need for you to take up paid employment unless you really wish to. I do not want one of my girls sacrificing themselves for the others.’ She paused, sighing. ‘It is unfortunate that your papa is so blinkered in the matter of London. Having shared Arabella’s education, you possess all the same accomplishments and are as fit to enter polite society as she. Both I and your Aunt Louisa have done our best, of course – but there is no shifting him once his mind is made up.’

  ‘No,’ agreed Elizabeth, somewhat hollowly. ‘I know. But I want … I don’t think I can simply continue as I am for the rest of my life. So if you and Papa are agreeable, I believe I might like to go to Nottinghamshire for a trial period. Then, if I am unhappy there or not suited to the work, the situation will be easily remedied, will it not?’

  * * *

  By the time Arabella and Elizabeth met on the following afternoon, replies had been despatched to both the Duchess of Rockliffe and Dr Featherstone.

  ‘Mama sent Uncle Josiah a note telling him that the duchess invited you as well as me,’ said Arabella the instant they were alone. ‘Did he tell you?’

  Elizabeth sat very still and looked at her hands. ‘Mama did.’

  Arabella muttered a word she’d learned from her brothers and promised never to repeat. Then she said, ‘He isn’t being fair. If you ask me, he isn’t even being very Christian.’

  ‘Stop it, Belle.’ Elizabeth’s voice was weary. ‘I knew he wouldn’t change his mind. And it doesn’t matter anyway. I’ve been offered a post as a – a sort of housekeeper-cum-governess in Nottinghamshire – and, subject to more information and Papa’s agreement, I intend to accept it.’

  Arabella stared at her incredulously and said flatly, ‘A housekeeper.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘In Nottinghamshire.’