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‘Nothing at all. The graves are very old. Does it matter?’
‘Not at all.’
‘Then put them away and walk with me in the garden. It is a lovely day and I have a mind to pick some roses.’
Chapter Ten
Jane stopped at the crossroads in the village, intending to turn towards Broadacres when she saw Isabel walking from that direction. She pulled up and waited for her.
Isabel climbed in beside her. ‘I’m glad you came along, Jane,’ she said. ‘My new shoes are pinching like the devil.’
Jane flicked the reins and the pony trotted on towards home. Telling Mark about Sir Jasper would have to wait. ‘Are they the ones you bought in London?’
‘Yes. They are fine when I am riding in a carriage, but not when I am walking.’
‘Where have you been?’
‘To Broadacres.’
‘Without Mama?’
‘Yes. I needed to speak to Mark.’
‘Oh. And did you?’
‘Yes. We have come to an understanding.’
Even though she was half-prepared for it, Isabel’s words put an end to any hope Jane might have had. More fool her for even entertaining it, she told herself fiercely. ‘By that, I suppose you mean the engagement is on again.’
‘Yes, it is.’
‘And what did Mark say?’
‘He was delighted, of course, and forgave me for my doubts.’
‘And now you have no doubts?’
‘None. We are to be married before Mama and Papa leave for Scotland, so do you think you can set aside your fascination with your orphanage project for a while and finish my wedding dress?’
‘Of course. There is little to be done to it in any case.’
* * *
They had barely entered the house when Sir Edward hurried towards them. ‘Jane where have you been? I have been looking everywhere for you.’
‘I have been to Witherington, Papa. Has something happened?’
‘There are people coming to view the house this afternoon and your mama refuses to meet them. You will have to take her place.’ He turned to his younger daughter. ‘Isabel, go and keep your mother company. She is in her boudoir. Sophie is out riding.’
Isabel left them and he turned to Jane again. ‘They will be here in less than half an hour.’
‘Then I must go and change out of these clothes and have Bessie do my hair. Witherington House is so dusty it is impossible not to get it on one’s clothes. I will be as quick as I can.’
* * *
Half an hour later she returned to the drawing room, seeing it with a stranger’s eyes and realising it would not give a good impression. The furnishings were shabby and there were dark patches on the wallpaper where her mother had had paintings removed. Papa had said she could not take them, but she had not had them put back. They were on the floor, leaning against the wall. The shelves in the cabinet where there had once been a display of china figurines were empty and forlorn looking. And flowers in the vase in the hearth were drooping. She picked it up and put it outside the window on to the terrace, just as they heard the front door knocker.
Mr and Mrs Somerton were undoubtedly nouveau riche. He was portly and dressed in a dark-green coat, yellow waistcoat, whose buttons strained across his stomach, and cream trousers, strapped under his shoes. She was even fatter, in puce taffeta and loaded with jewels. She and Jane curtsied to each other while Sir Edward explained he had asked his daughter to receive them because of his wife’s poor health. ‘It is why we are leaving here,’ he said. ‘We have already started to gather together our belongings, as you can see.’
‘We expected it to be furnished,’ Mr Somerton said, looking round in distaste.
The rest of the house, apart from her ladyship’s boudoir, were viewed with the same reaction and the couple departed, making it very clear they would not be buying.
* * *
It was the same with the next two people Mr Halliday sent to them. Having steeled themselves to losing their home, they now found that no one wanted to buy it. Lady Cavenhurst, Isabel and Sophie were secretly pleased, though Jane was more realistic and Sir Edward was in despair because he knew he could not hold Lord Bolsover off much longer.
* * *
Then the dreadful man himself arrived. He bowled up in an extravagant chaise drawn by four superb horses, and banged on the front door with his cane.
Jane was upstairs on the first-floor gallery, having just come from the sewing room where she had been putting the finishing touches to Isabel’s wedding gown, when she saw Saunders, on his dignity as usual, admit him and request his name.
