Joan Smith - Delsie

She asked the girl this question when she spoke to her. “Oh, no, ma’am. I never talk to him, only to say ‘how do you do,’ or to answer a question about Miss Grayshott.” The girl was busy throwing a few pieces of linen into a bag. She made no effort to conceal her relief at escaping the house. “And are you staying, then, ma’am?” she asked.

“Certainly I am.” She had only a minute to consider that if deVigne knew Miss Milne had been with her in the garden, it was because he had been there himself. It was he who had grabbed her and kissed her. Whatever emotions this might have raised in a more peaceful mood, at the height of her anger it was seen as an impertinence and insult.

When she returned to the saloon, deVigne stood with one booted foot on the finder of the grate, in a state of angry concentration. “I hope Miss Milne has succeeded in changing your mind,” he said.

“She is not so insolent as to try,” was the unyielding answer. “While we are on the subject of Miss Milne, may I ask how you came to know she was in the garden with me the night I was attacked by a libertine? I did not tell you so, and she has just confirmed for me that she did not tell you herself.”

His face was impassive, untouched by shame at being found out. “It was myself in the garden. I did it only to frighten you. I had already told you not to go out. It served you right. It was my hope it would prevent a repetition of such foolhardiness on your part in the future. Your present decision leads one to the inevitable conclusion you enjoy being attacked by libertines.”

“Not by you! I never encountered such overweaning arrogance in my life. Anyone who doesn’t do as you order is stubborn!”

“I suggest it for your own good. What do you think will happen to you if you are caught spying about the orchard, discovering the identity of the smugglers?”

“Whatever happens, I cannot believe it will prove so unpleasant as my last experience there. And I don’t mean to be caught this time.”

“You overestimate your abilities. I caught you. I shall let Jane persuade you.”

“I shan’t be joining Lady Jane for dinner this evening. Perhaps you will be kind enough to make my apologies, as I have no carriage to go and tell her myself.”

“You will find it a long day, with no company but your own mulish-” He came to a halt.

“I expect to have a deal of company. You forget your brother-in-law’s creditors will be descending on me today, dunning me for his year’s unpaid bills.”

“It will give a fine impression, for you to be seen answering your own door before half the village.”

“They will expect no better from a smuggler’s widow!” she retaliated.

“You are determined to make this affair as unsavory as possible, I see. This is sheer spite. You do it to show me what an untenable position I have put you in by this marriage. I confess quite frankly, ma’am, I think it was an error. Had I had the least idea what Andrew was up to, I would not have urged you to marry him, but there is no need to cast yourself on the mercy of a band of smugglers to bring the message home to me.”

“That is not why I am doing it.”

“Why then? There is no sane reason in the world for you to expose yourself so needlessly.”

“You wouldn’t understand. I object to being used by people. I object to the open sneers of the Bristcombes, to their audacity in using this house for a smugglers’ den. I will not be told by them or any persons of such doubtful morality what I am to do.”

“Especially me! Let me tell you, I am as finely tuned to the nuances of morality and moral turpitude as you, or anyone else. There is no outstanding virtue in stubbornness, however.”

“I wonder that you embrace it so tenaciously.” She examined him with her gray, assessing eyes, that hid all her uncertainty. She began to be assailed by doubts as to whether she were doing the sensible thing. She had relied heavily on Miss Milne’s presence, and had secretly thought deVigne would insist on helping her too, but he was bent on depriving her of every jot of assistance. “I suppose you will take your two girls from the Hall back too?” she asked.

“I shan’t cater to your whim for heroism by leaving you to stand alone against the tribe. Do you want a few of my footmen sent down for the night?”

“That won’t be necessary,” she answered with the utmost indifference, but hoping he would prevail against her.

“Very well. Do you know how to use a pistol?”

“No! I don’t intend to shoot anyone.”

“It will be well for you to have some protection, in case the smugglers decide to take advantage of a woman alone.”

“I won’t be alone. Your girls will be here with me,” she pointed out, her eyes widening in fright.

“There is no saying their boyfriends aren’t amongst the smugglers. If it comes to a showdown, I wouldn’t count on the girls for much help.”

“You’re just trying to frighten me,” she said, hoping he didn’t realize how well he was succeeding.

“Not at all. I am merely trying to prepare you for what will in all probability happen.”

She wavered in her mind, half wanting to give in, but disliking to act so cowardly. He spoke on, still in the frightening vein. “Andrew has several guns about the place. Get one and I’ll load it for you and show you how to use it. Be careful you don’t kill someone, with it lying about the place loaded.”

She had suspected before that he was trying to scare her, and was now convinced of it. She shrugged her shoulders and answered facetiously, to conceal her fear. “I don’t want a gun. You will remember, when I am done in, that we have decided on a black coffin for me.”

He scowled at her, but before he could reply, Bobbie came hopping into the room. “Me and Miss Milne are going to the Hall, Mama,” she said. “Aren’t you coming with us?”

“Not today, dear. Another time. Mama is busy today.”

“We’re going to sleep there all night,” Bobbie told her. “Won’t you be afraid here all alone, with the Bristcombes gone?”

“I won’t be all alone. Nell and Olive are here.”

“What if the pixies come?” the child asked her.

“Your mama is not afraid of pixies,” Max told her, with a seething look at the stepmama.

Miss Milne came downstairs with a small bag in her hands. The three who were leaving made their adieux and departed. Delsie had to use every drop of her self-control not to dash out the door after them.

Delsie looked forward to the day, and of course the night, with utter dread, but decided the best cure was work. There was plenty of it to be done at the Cottage. She got the girts from the Hall together and went with them to the kitchen to see what dirt and confusion the Bristcombes had left behind them. It was worse than her gravest fears. The place was covered in several years’ accumulation of grime-the sort that had to be scraped away. She was revolted to think her food and that of Roberta had been prepared in this room.

They began with the cupboards, washing the walls and shelves and emptying every pot and bottle in the place, many of which were covered in green mold, holding some anomalous congealed mass of food whose original state was beyond imagining or detecting from the odor. The widow first took a supervisory role, but as the morning wore on and she was undisturbed by any creditors come to dun her, she rolled up her sleeves and joined the girls in the Herculean task of bringing order to her kitchen.

Finding their temporary mistress congenial, the girls did not hesitate to chatter and gossip together, and after an hour they were directing several friendly remarks to Mrs. Grayshott as well. They began by a comparison to how the kitchens at the Hall were kept-all was above reproach, and almost above their most exalted praise from what the mistress could gather. The words “his lordship” were introduced freely, and though Delsie realized full well she ought not to gossip, she kept her ears open and allowed the servants to do so. The girls’ conversation with herself was of an unexceptionable sort-about the Cottage, her plans for it, and also about the school. Nell had a brother there whose progress could be reported on.

“He doesn’t like Mr. Perkins half as much as he liked you,” Nell told her, “though he says he’s better than Mr. Umpton.”

At one o’clock, Delsie went to wash up for lunch, a tray with cold meat and bread in the study, and as she was finishing this, her knocker sounded. Expecting a creditor, she put on her most dignified expression, which rapidly changed to a smile of infinite relief when it was Lady Jane who stood at the door.

“I’m a ninnyhammer!” the dame declared. “Knocking at your door, when I know perfectly well the Bristcombes have left. I ought to have just walked in. I am all agog to hear about it, my dear,” she continued, stepping in. “DeVigne has been with me this hour and is in the boughs that you won’t leave. When did they shab off on you?”

“This morning.”

“Good riddance. I am happy to see the back of that slovenly pair. And where the deuce can they be hiding the brandy? Vanished, Max says. Bah-it cannot be invisible, and we must find it.”

“You are welcome to try your hand, milady. I have been over the orchard and vicinity with a fine-tooth comb, and cannot find a trace of it. I even looked up in the branches to see if they were possibly hiding it up there, but they aren’t.”

“We’ll be on the lookout when they come to take it away. Very proper of you to insist upon staying here, though you cannot stay alone, of course. I mean to come to bear you company, and bring a brace of good stout footmen with me.”

These words were music to the widow’s ears. Somehow, it seemed impossible that harm would come to her with Lady Jane standing imperiously at her side. She was also happy for moral support from such a worthy source. DeVigne could not think her the fool she was beginning to feel herself, when Lady Jane supported her.