‘No, no - this is too bad of you! I will not go without you!’ Lucilla’s eyes, dark with anger, were fixed intently upon her mother.
‘No, Lucy, pray do not be difficult. You must see that I cannot go to the Cornholmes tomorrow.’ Mrs Chambers was reclining upon a day bed, her smelling salts clutched in one hand. She glanced down at her heavily bandaged foot. ‘I agree it is most inconvenient for me to be laid up at this time, but although there is nothing broken, Dr Ribble tells me it is an exceptionally severe sprain of the ankle and needs complete rest.’
‘And you will need me here to look after you!’ protested Lucy.
Her mother shook her head. ‘No, darling. I shall manage perfectly well here. It was agreed that Charlotte should join the Cornholmes at Stock House for the whole of August and since I cannot take her, you must go in my stead. I understand your reluctance, indeed I know you do not find it easy to make new friends, but I do hope you will overcome your shyness on this one occasion, for ‘twould be most unseemly for your sister to be unattended, for all she has been a widow these past two years. Dear Charlotte is much too young and beautiful to go alone.’
She shifted her gaze to her elder daughter, who was sitting by the window, idly studying her reflection in the glass doors of a nearby bookcase.
Hearing her name, ‘dear Charlotte’ turned her head, a petulant frown marring her beautiful features.
‘I know what it is,’ she remarked, ‘Lucy is jealous because I am about to receive another offer of marriage, and she has not yet had even one!’
‘That is scarcely any wonder, as I am not yet out!’ retorted Lucilla, stung.
‘And you never will get a husband if you continue to spend all your time in the stables. You will end as an old maid, unless you can prevail upon Tom Bancroft to offer for you. He seems to enjoy a privileged position in your eyes!’
‘Pray don’t be so childish, Charlotte! Since Tom is our neighbour it is no wonder we are such friends, but it is nothing more than that!’
Charlotte smiled with false sweetness.
‘Much joy that will be when you are in your dotage!’
‘Girls, please!’ murmured Mrs Chambers in failing accents. From under her fluttering lashes she glanced at her daughters, wondering the best way to deal with the situation. There was little to mark the two young ladies as sisters. Charlotte at two-and-twenty was undoubtedly the beauty of the family, with a dainty frame and a melting look in her cornflower-blue eyes that men found irresistible. Lucy’s trim figure was the envy of her friends, but her fond mama knew that she compared herself unfavourably to Charlotte’s ethereal appearance and felt awkward and ungainly next to her. Lucy had been told she resembled her father, but since that gentleman had died when she was still a baby, she could only verify this by studying the portrait of the late Mr Chambers that hung in the dining-room.
True, they had the same light-brown hair, not at all as fashionable as Charlotte’s guinea-gold curls. There was also a similarity about the blue-grey eyes with their direct, faintly appraising gaze set under dark, naturally curving brows. Apart from this Lucy could trace no likeness. Had she ever thought to enquire, those who remembered her father could have told her that the resemblance was more marked than any portrait could show. It lay in the tilt of the head and enquiring look that Lucy gave when she was puzzled, in the way her blue-grey eyes would suddenly twinkle with merriment, or in the stubborn set of her chin when she was displeased. It was this obstinate look that now made Mrs Chambers sigh inwardly as she regarded her younger child.
She said patiently, ‘My dear, when I brought Charlotte back with me from London, I explained to you that Mr Vanderley’s attentions had been most marked. The fact that he is to cut short his stay in Town, where everyone is revelling in the Peace Celebrations now that that monster Bonaparte is safely put away on Elba - well, that he should prefer a quiet country party at Stock House is a most encouraging sign. Charlotte has every expectation that when they meet again he will make her an offer. Surely you cannot wish to see your sister’s happiness blighted because you will not accompany her on a short visit!’
Lucy shrugged. ‘I do not see why Charlotte cannot go alone. She is after all a widow, not a girl in her first season.’
‘That is just what I shall do, even though Mama says I must not, if you are so disagreeable as to refuse to come with me. And when I am the rich Mrs Vanderley, little sister, do not look to me to help you catch a husband!’
Mrs Chambers quickly put an end to what promised to be a prolonged argument by despatching Charlotte upon an errand. She then commanded Lucy to draw her chair closer that they might talk confidentially.
‘It pains me to admit it, Lucy dear,’ she began, choosing her words carefully, ‘but despite being three years your senior, I am afraid that Charlotte is a little lacking in sense. I know many young women who manage their lives quite successfully and if Lairne had lived I have no doubt that Charlotte would have made him an excellent wife. However, we both know that she is quite unsuited to living alone.’
‘She is a pea-goose,’ stated Lucy bluntly.
‘Let us just say that if I had not insisted that she return here to Templecombe when Lairne died, she would have been the target of every fortune-hunter in Town and heaven knows what might have become of her! So you must see, Lucilla, how anxious I am that she should contract a good marriage.’
‘Is this a good match?’ countered Lucilla. ‘Tom says he’s heard Dominic Vanderley is a notorious rake and never seen without an opera dancer on his arm—’
‘Nothing of the kind!’ Mrs Chambers interrupted her, flushing slightly. ‘There has never been any scandal attached to his name, even though he has been a little wild, perhaps. But last season he did not look at another woman once he had seen Charlotte! Several people said to me it would be a match. And until Charlotte is off my hands once more, I cannot set about finding a suitable match for you!’
‘Poor Mama! What a trial your daughters must be to you.’
‘No, no, but you must see how much it would relieve my mind to know that you were looking after Charlotte. I know I can rely upon your good sense to prevent her from committing any gross folly.’
Lucilla’s eyes widened. ‘But Mama, whatever do you expect to happen to her at Stock House? I thought Lord and Lady Cornholme were most respectable—’
‘Of course they are!’ Mrs Chambers agreed hastily, looking uncomfortable. ‘I would not for the world have accepted an invitation from them if they were not of the highest respectability, but Mr Vanderley is no callow youth: he is very much a man of the world and it would not do for him to think Charlotte is unchaperoned....’
‘You are afraid he might try to bed her rather than wed her!’
‘Lucilla! I vow I blush to hear such words on your lips! I daresay you pick up these things from the stables, but I would thank you to remember that you are a young lady and not some low serving wench. Pray let me have no more of this behaviour, or I shall close down the stables and have all the horses sold!’
Knowing this to be an empty threat, Lucilla was not much troubled by her mother’s words, but she immediately begged pardon.
‘I will try to guard my tongue. Mama, but that was indeed what you meant, was it not? Charlotte herself told me Mr Vanderley is considered by some to be dangerous....’
‘I am sure his intentions towards Charlotte are strictly honourable,’ said her mama uneasily, ‘but you must admit that your sister is very beautiful, and when passions are running high ...’ she trailed off, spreading her hands expressively.
‘You need not fear. Mama. I will go to Stock House with Charlotte and I will make it clear to her beau that he can expect nothing from her until she is his wife!’
Mrs Chambers looked anything but reassured by this, but apart from begging Lucy to be sensible, she said nothing more, merely advising her to go and make her peace with Charlotte.
* * * *
‘So you see Tom, we are to go to the Cornholmes after all, and I am to be Charlotte’s chaperon!’
Lucilla had ridden over to Mirlow Hall early the following morning and poured out the whole story to her life-long friend. The squire and his wife had welcomed Lucy in their usual friendly way and directed her to the hay-barn, where she found their only son inspecting a new litter of pups from one of his gun-dogs. Tom Bancroft was a fresh-faced youth, scarcely a year older than Lucilla and he heartily entered into her feelings on the matter, although his first reaction to her announcement was scarcely flattering.
‘You, a chaperon for Charlotte! Why, that’s the oddest notion I’ve ever heard! You’ll be in some devilish scrape before the week’s out!’
‘I will not!’
‘Oh yes you will!’ he declared frankly. ‘Why you’re too shy to say boo to a goose, so how are you going to protect the ravishing Lady Lairne from all her admirers? I’ll tell you what, Lucy, I don’t wish to upset you, but that fall your mother had must have unsettled her mind.’
‘Nothing of the sort, Tom Bancroft! Mama knows she can rely upon me to look after Charlotte. After all, I have reached my twentieth year; it’s not as if I’m a baby, even if I have not yet been presented.’
Tom grinned. ‘You’ve as much notion how to go on in society as that pup you are holding!’
Lucy’s eyes flashed for a moment, then she laughed.
‘You’re right, and I’m not half so beautiful! Oh, I wish I was staying here with you, Tom, instead of having to go, but Mama is so worried that Charlotte will do something foolish if she is allowed to go to Stock House on her own!’
‘Well, I don’t see that. Charlotte’s set on marrying him, and if this fellow is as besotted as you say he’ll be planning to make her his wife—’
‘Yes, but Mama’s afraid marriage may not be uppermost in his mind.’ Lucilla gave the little pup she was holding a kiss and placed it gently beside its mother, saying with a sigh, ‘Oh, it is going to be the most tiresome visit! Short of hanging on to Charlotte’s skirts I do not see that I will be able to watch her every minute of the day!’
* * * *
‘Come up, you sluggard!’ Lucy brought her riding crop down heavily upon the mare’s rump and the animal responded by breaking into a reluctant canter. After covering a short distance she allowed the creature to resume its favourite pace. As the horse walked on, Lucy gave a sigh of exasperation: if only she had brought her own mare she could have enjoyed riding here! She toyed with the idea of sending for her hack. After all, it was little more than thirty miles to Templecombe, but she decided against it. Mama would not appreciate the trouble or expense of sending another servant to Stock House with the mare. Also, she did not wish to give any offence to her hostess who had kindly offered her the loan of her own horse. She and Charlotte had been with the Cornholmes for three days: upon their arrival Charlotte had been disappointed to discover that Dominic Vanderley and his sister had not yet arrived, but since she was acquainted with almost everyone present, she was soon very much at home. Lucy however, not yet having experienced a season in London, knew no one, and although Lord and Lady Cornholme were extremely kind, Lucy’s natural shyness made her feel awkward and uncomfortable amongst so many strangers. A chance remark led Lady Cornholme to offer Lucy the use of her own hack during her stay, which Lucy eagerly accepted and she was now trying out the mare. The other guests considered the hot weather too oppressive for riding and Charlotte had frowned at her sister’s eagerness to go out, but Lucy was adamant: since Miss Vanderley and her brother were due to arrive at any moment she felt that this might be her only chance to enjoy herself before she took on the irksome task of chaperon to her elder sister. Lady Cornholme ’s suggestion that she should take a groom as her escort was politely but firmly rejected and, promising not to leave the Cornholme estate, Lucy rode out alone, happy to be free of company for a few hours.
It did not take Lucy long to realize that her hostess was no bruising rider. Lady Cornholme ’s hack was a placid, overweight grey mare with a fixed idea of the proper pace for a lady. Despite this Lucy enjoyed exploring the park and surrounding countryside. Stock House was pleasantly situated amongst the hills between Bath and Bristol. The house itself nestled into the side of a hill, surrounded on three sides by rolling parkland and to the north by thick woods. The western side of the park was the most open, the smooth grass stretching up to the crest of the hill where a line of trees and bushes marked the boundary and the passage of a leafy road. Lucy had skirted round this open space during her exploration, keeping to the boundary and within the cool shelter of the trees, but she now found herself at the western edge of the estate and, having decided it was time to head back to the stables, she set out across the broad expanse of grass. She pushed the mare on, determined to enjoy at least one gallop before going back. The mare lengthened her stride and Lucy felt the familiar thrill of the wind in her face as they sped over the ground. She was about to congratulate herself on her progress when the horse stumbled, lurched forward and Lucy was thrown to the ground. For a few seconds she lay still, gathering her disordered senses. She felt bruised and shaken, but nothing worse. She got up, furious with herself for her carelessness. The mare was standing a few yards off and, as Lucy approached, she threw up her head, ears pricked. Looking over her shoulder, Lucy saw a horse and rider coming towards her.
She felt a flush of embarrassment as she realized that the stranger must have been travelling on the road and seen her fall. She turned her attention to the mare as the approaching hoof-beats slowed behind her.
‘I saw what happened - are you hurt?’
Lucy shook her head. ‘No, but I think the mare - her foreleg, there’s blood—’ She realized as she tried to speak how much the fall had shaken her.
‘Let me look.’
The man jumped down from his horse and handed the reins to Lucy. She watched with approval as he slowly approached the mare, talking reassuringly to the animal as he bent to examine the leg. Lucilla could not resist an envious glance at the big black hunter standing patiently beside her. She put up a hand to smooth the glossy neck and was obliged to stifle the very uncharitable comparisons that sprang to her mind when she looked again at her borrowed hack. She took the opportunity of studying the stranger. He was very tall, his short black hair just visible beneath the edge of his curly-brimmed beaver. A coat of blue superfine fitted snugly over his broad shoulders and a snowy white cravat enhanced a naturally dark complexion. A more experienced eye would have seen at a glance that the stranger’s coat came from Weston in Old Bond Street. Her sister could have told her that his plain dress was influenced by Brummell, one of the undoubted leaders of fashion, but Lucy saw only a country gentleman dressed neatly and without ostentation. She looked away quickly as he turned to her.
‘Nothing broken, I think, but that’s a nasty gash just above the fetlock. Most likely she kicked herself when she stumbled.’
Lucy pulled off her cravat and held it out. ‘We could use this until I can get her back to the stable and treat her properly. Perhaps you would be good enough to do it for me. I hate to admit to such weakness, but my hands are shaking....’
That’s nothing to be ashamed of, ‘tis merely the shock of taking a tumble. It will pass. You are very lucky, this dry weather has made the ground so hard you could have been badly injured by your fall. There,’ he stood back to admire his handiwork - ‘that should hold until you get home. Do you have far to go?’
‘I am staying at Stock House. The fence in the distance has a gate leading directly to the stables.’ She handed him the reins of his horse, looking up at him for the first time. His aquiline features gave his face a stern, almost fierce appearance, but even as she thought this, the look softened and she was aware of a smile lurking in his brown eyes. Lucy put her head on one side and regarded him questioningly.
‘You have grass in your hair,’ he explained, reaching out to pull the offending greenery from her curls.
Lucy laughed. ‘And dust on my skirts! I am well served. My hostess loaned me her mare and even if the animal is slow she does not deserve to be hurt! I should never have pushed her.’
‘A sluggard is she?’
‘A veritable snail!’ agreed Lucy cordially. She caught up the mare’s reins. ‘Thank you for your assistance, sir. I must go now if I am to be at Stock House in time for dinner.’
‘Then allow me to accompany you as far as the gate, it is not far out of my way.’ He fell into step beside her, leading his own horse. ‘You are a guest at Stock House, you said; do you make a long stay?’
‘For the month. My sister and I arrived a few days ago.’
‘And are you enjoying your visit?’
‘Mm, yes.’
He noticed her hesitation.
‘But not entirely?’
‘You see, I am not yet out,’ she confided. ‘I have not been into society before, only Mama insisted I accompany Charlotte because - well, never mind that! But while my sister knows everyone and just how to go on, I do not feel comfortable yet amongst so many strangers.’
He laughed. ‘I am a stranger and we are getting along famously.’
‘Yes, but this situation is quite different! You came to my assistance; how could I not talk to you? But to be constantly with people one does not know -I feel I can never relax! That is why I was so pleased to be alone for a few hours, especially today, when even more guests are expected and everyone is in a panic just because the gentleman is as rich as Croesus!’
‘You sound very disapproving; do you dislike the fellow so much?’
‘I have never met him, so I cannot say, although if he really is the spoilt darling of society I cannot think that I shall like him! No, I disapprove of the way everyone talks of him, merely because of his wealth. If I were to believe all I have heard I should be expecting a veritable Adonis! Instead, he will most likely turn out to be an ageing roué! Oh dear - why do you laugh at me? Have I said something I shouldn’t?’
‘No, no, you have been most entertaining! But you see we have reached Stock House and the gate to the stables is just ahead of us, so I must take my leave of you.’
‘Oh, will you not come in? I am sure if you come to the house with me Lady Cornholme will provide some refreshment for you!’
His eyes were alight with laughter, but he replied seriously, ‘No, as tempting as it is I must decline your offer and be on my way. Au revoir, little one.’ He swung nimbly into the saddle. ‘Get the mare to her stable and be sure that leg is properly tended, then change into your prettiest gown before you greet your ageing roué!’
The stranger turned his horse and with a final wave he galloped off towards the road. Lucy watched until horse and rider had disappeared into the trees then she turned away to lead the mare across to the stable.
* * * *
It was almost the dinner hour when Lucy returned to the bedchamber she shared with her sister. She found Charlotte sitting before her glass while Bracey, their maid, put the final touches to her coiffure. Charlotte’s disapproving glance fluttered over Lucy.
‘And just where have you been, miss? I expected you here a good hour since and have been imagining all sorts of accidents that might have befallen you!’
‘I am sorry. Lady Cornholme ’s mare went lame and I was obliged to walk back. I had at last managed to get the animal to gallop and was just—’
Charlotte waved her hand impatiently, cutting her short.
‘Never mind that now! Hurry up and change, or we shall be late for dinner!’
‘Shall I fetch out the lemon sprigged muslin. Miss Lucy?’ asked Bracey.
‘Please do,’ Lucy laughed. ‘It is after all my prettiest dress!’
A severe look from her sister made Lucy stifle her merriment and she scrambled out of her dusty habit. She shot a mischievous look at Charlotte.
‘I presume from the excellent equipage I saw in the stable yard that your beau has arrived?’
‘Mr Vanderley is not my beau, I would never acknowledge such a vulgar term!’ came the stiff reply. ‘As a matter of fact Miss Vanderley arrived in the travelling carriage. Her brother preferred to ride and had not arrived when I came up to change for dinner - as you would know if you had not taken it into your head to go galloping all over the country like a hoyden. As it is you had best hurry, or you will crown your incivility by keeping everyone waiting for their dinner!’
While Charlotte tastefully arranged the folds of a fine silk shawl across her arms, Bracey helped Lucy into a muslin gown of pale cream sprigged with tiny lemon flowers and caught in with a lemon sash at the high waistline. The maid did her best to arrange Lucy’s tangled curls into order while that young lady hung a locket around her neck on a length of yellow ribbon. Charlotte cast a critical glance over her sister.
‘Very suitable, miss, if I may say so,’ remarked Bracey, nodding approvingly. ‘Yellow was always your colour. Now Miss Charlotte - Lady Lairne I should say! - could never wear it, not with her pink and white complexion, but the new blue silk is most becoming, my lady.’
Bracey’s judgement on matters of colour was beyond question, and such praise from the old retainer brought a flush of pleasure to Charlotte’s cheeks.
‘Thank you, Bracey. I cannot deny it is good to be able to wear colours again. My widow’s weeds were so dull! Goodness, look at the time! Come, Lucy, or we shall be late!’
She flew out of the room with Lucy hurrying to keep up. As they made their way downstairs, Lucy noticed an unusual amount of activity in the hall below. Footmen dashed across the floor with an assortment of trunks and portmanteaux of various shapes and sizes. She wondered idly about the owner of such a mountain of luggage as she followed her sister to the drawing-room, where the rest of the party was already assembled. Charlotte stopped short just inside the doorway. Lucy glanced an enquiry then followed her sister’s eyes towards a tall, willowy young man at the very centre of the room. Her critical gaze swept over the gentleman. He was dressed in the very height of fashion, his golden curls arranged in a careful semblance of disarray, the starched points of his collar reaching almost to his cheekbones and beneath his chin frothed the snowy folds of his intricately tied cravat. A bronze-green waistcoat gleamed from beneath the dark coat whose padding imperfectly concealed a pair of rather narrow shoulders, while his canary-yellow pantaloons and gleaming, tasselled Hessians encased legs that Lucy thought too long and thin to be considered shapely.
‘Good gracious!’ exclaimed Lucy. ‘Surely that cannot be the notorious Mr Vanderley!’
‘Of course not!’ hissed Charlotte. ‘How can you be so absurd? For all his wealth, Dominic Vanderley is certainly no leader of fashion! Hush now, he has seen us!’
The elegant gentleman was bearing down upon them, holding up an eyeglass to observe the young ladies as he approached, his long face wreathed in smiles. Lucy was amazed to find her sister graciously returning his greeting and holding out her hand to him in the friendliest manner.
‘Lady Lairne - your most obedient servant!’ The gentleman made an elegant bow before fixing his pale-blue eyes once more upon the countess. ‘When I discovered your destination I immediately cancelled my engagements, packed my bags and voila, I am here, you see!’
‘Indeed, Mr Collingham, this is a most delightful surprise! But how can this be? You made no mention of your visit here when we last met in Town.’
‘Ah, then I did not know it was your intention to be here, ma’am! But Lady Cornholme is my aunt, you see, so I came down today. Got here scarce an hour since, in fact, with only one change of clothes to my name.’ He waved his hands, inviting them to observe his dress as he said thoughtfully, ‘However, I think it will do.... I only hope the coach with my luggage has arrived! Of course, our dear hostess was delighted to see me. I knew she would not object to putting me up for a few nights. After all, what is one guest more or less amongst so many?’
Remembering the harassed servants struggling to clear the hall, Lucy felt inclined to challenge this view, but she held her peace. Charlotte drew Lucy forward and performed the introduction, explaining to her sister that Mr Arthur Collingham was an acquaintance she had made in London during her last visit there.
‘Oh come, ma’am, more than an acquaintance, surely!’ protested the gentleman. ‘We are firm friends now, are we not?’
The countess blushed, simpered and acknowledged the friendship, and after a few more minutes Mr Collingham sauntered off to give other guests the benefit of his delightful conversation.
‘Goodness, what a strange man!’ breathed Lucy, watching his retreating form with wide-eyed wonder.
‘Nonsense, Lucy, if you had been to Town you would realize that Mr Collingham is a most accomplished gentleman and considered by many to be the current leader of fashion, let me tell you! He is also a most exquisite dancer. It is considered quite an honour to be chosen as his partner.’ The countess lowered her eyes modestly and fluttered her fan. ‘We have stood up together for many a dance, and I know our appearance has been most favourably remarked.’
‘There is no difficulty about that!’ replied Lucy. ‘You are both so fair I’ve no doubt you make a perfect couple,’ she broke off to greet Lady Cornholme.
‘So, you have met my nephew,’ remarked their hostess, smiling. ‘I know Lady Lairne is already acquainted with him, but I wonder, Lucy, if you will give me your opinion of the young man?’
Lucy felt the colour rising in her cheeks.
‘I should be afraid to do so, ma’am, upon such short acquaintance. But he does seem very - very elegant!’ she stammered.
Lady Cornholme ’s eyes twinkled merrily. ‘Well said, my dear! But I have no doubt he will add a certain lustre to our gathering. Would you not agree, my dear sir?’ she addressed her husband, who had come up behind her. The gentleman made a wry face.
‘Are you speaking of Arthur? A silly young coxcomb, in my opinion, but he’s harmless enough and he has a good heart beneath all that frippery!’ He beamed down upon the sisters. ‘But you, my dears, are a completely different matter! How lovely you both look! I heard of your tumble this afternoon, Lucilla. I trust you did not hurt yourself?’
‘Not a bit, sir, but I am sorry to have lamed the mare.’
Lord Cornholme waved away her apologies.
‘Put it out of your mind, child. My head groom was most impressed with the way you strapped up that cut. Most impressed!’
‘Oh, but I didn’t—’
‘Lucy!’ cried Charlotte, mortified. ‘You did not doctor the horse yourself!’
‘She did, and expertly too!’ laughed their host, ‘But there was no need for you to trouble yourself. My grooms would have attended to the whole.’
‘Pray do not think it any trouble for Lucy!’ put in Charlotte with an angry titter. ‘My sister likes nothing better than to be working in the stables alongside the grooms!’
Noting Lucy’s embarrassment. Lady Cornholme quickly tried to heal the breach.
‘I think it is admirable, my dear,’ she told Lucy. ‘Since you are so fond of riding it is very sensible to know how to look after your horses, especially so with your poor mama a widow and no one to keep household. But I am forgetting my duties as a hostess. I must introduce Lucy to our other new guests! Miss Vanderley and her brother arrived while you were out, my love. They were obliged to remain in Town for the jubilee celebrations on the first of the month; I believe it was almost a Royal command! Come along, my dears.’ She led Lucy and Charlotte across the room to Miss Vanderley, who was one of a large, chattering group. The crowd parted as Lady Cornholme approached and Lucy saw that Miss Vanderley was a tall, vivacious brunette with a pair of lively dark eyes and a ready smile. She looked vaguely familiar and, as her hostess performed the introductions, Lucy wondered if they had met before. Then Lady Cornholme ’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
‘Come, child, there is someone else you must meet! Mr Vanderley, may I present to you Lady Lairne’s younger sister, Miss Lucilla Chambers.’
Lucy turned to greet the gentleman, but the polite words she had planned died on her lips as she found herself looking up into the wickedly teasing eyes of Mr Dominic Vanderley, for he was none other than the stranger who had come to her aid that afternoon.