by Jane Charles
She frowned, her full, rosy lips puckering. “Then why are you here? Did you sneak in? Are you here to rob us? Should I be screaming?”
Affronted, Caleb took a step back, though he was beginning to suspect she teased him. “I simply accompanied my great-aunts.” He pointed to the three older women seated side by side.
She glanced down at the gathering before a smile burst on the woman’s lips. “Ladies Priscilla, Joanna and Esther Tilson!” She quietly clapped her hands in delight. “I’d not been told they’d be coming. I do so adore them. They may be just what saves this house party from being tedious.”
“Tedious?”
“Yes.” She sighed and leaned on the balcony. “Those ten are the only guests, other than you and your great-aunts. To make matters worse, the rest of my family has found a reason to be absent, leaving me, my father and grandmother to attend to those lords.” She turned. “Forgive me, I’m Lady Lucinda Claxton.”
“Mister Caleb Copeland.” He bowed to the duke’s second daughter. “Why did he only invite ten gentlemen?”
She let out a deep sigh. “To see me married, of course.”
It was as he suspected, though it didn’t explain why his great-aunts needed him. They couldn’t expect him to be included in the group below, who would undoubtedly leap to do any deed to win Lady Lucinda’s favor.
He chuckled. “Ten lords a leaping,” he sang quietly.
Lady Lucinda scowled at him. “I don’t find you the least bit humorous.”
Caleb would have believed her if Lady Lucinda’s lips hadn’t twitched.
“Yes, you do.” He winked.
She brought a hand to her mouth to muffle her giggle. “Perhaps I do.”
Merriment danced in her grey eyes. “They do tend to jump, or in this case, leap to do one’s bidding when one is the daughter of a duke.”
“You should be flattered.”
At that she rolled her eyes. “It’s bothersome. I shan’t wed because they are of the right family with the correct title, nor should that be the reason anyone wished to marry me.”
“It is the way of things, is it not?”
“For some, but not for me.” She lifted her chin. “Shall we join the others?”
“You go on,” Caleb insisted. He’d much rather have a view of the leaping from where he currently stood.
“Are you not a bachelor as well?” A dark eyebrow lifted with the question.
“I am, but while my uncle may be a duke, and my brother a duke in training, I am but a simple mister from New Orleans.” He then grinned. “And I do not leap.”
“Such a pity for I do believe I’d enjoy you doing so.” She laughed.
Lady Lucinda swished away from him and for the briefest moment, Caleb almost wished that he could claim the title of lord.
Two
Lucinda took a deep breath then entered the sitting room to greet her guests, though she wished she could remain above with Mr. Copeland, as he seemed far more enjoyable than the ten gathered. He was far more handsome too.
The tea service had been wheeled in, but it stood unattended and no one had yet been served. Of course, none of the servants really had the time to stand in attendance for such a simple task.
She first greeted the maiden sisters, who she truly adored. The three were outrageous and her grandmother always seemed happier when they were about.
Lucinda then greeted her ten lords a leaping. As Mr. Copeland’s words sang in her head, she had to bite her bottom lip to keep from laughing.
Though she doubted any would really go so far out of their way to impress her, they would for her father. If only the ton knew that her father hated the scraping and bowing, they’d not be so quick to do so each time he walked in a room. But Lucinda wasn’t going to give away his secret. Especially since it might benefit her in the end.
As she made her way to the tea cart and thought over their titles, Lucinda wondered if this was her father’s way of deciding that she must marry a future duke, marquess or earl? Not that it mattered, as a title had nothing to do with character. As these ten had yet to inherit and prove themselves by caring for an estate, servants and tenants, how could she possibly decide if any of them would do? All they knew how to do now was squander what was easily provided.
“Do you not have servants to see to tea?” Lord Gambier asked.
“We cannot spare one at the moment,” Lucinda answered and went about preparing cups of tea for each of her guests. It was something she truly did not mind doing. And, even if she did, there was little choice.
“Can’t spare a servant?” Lord Crewe asked in alarm.
“I’m afraid that I do have rather distressing news,” her grandmother offered, then went on to explain the situation.
“It simply should not have been allowed,” Lord Alvanley insisted. “They knew you were to have guests.”
Lucinda gaped at him. “It was Boxing Day and we’ve always given the servants leave to attend the Servants’ Assembly. It’s been a tradition in Laswell since before my birth.”
“Servants attending an assembly, as if they were better than their station,” Lord Gambier murmured with disgust.
“Perhaps in the future you might consider the ramifications, and this year might serve as a lesson,” Lord Banbury condescended to her. “I’d not allow such a practice on my estate.”
“I quite agree,” Lord Eardly added. “One must have servants.”
“Good Lord, it’s not as if anyone is asking you to prepare your own meal,” Lord Irvine rebuked. “That would be a disaster. At least it would be if I were tasked with the cooking.” Humor twinkled in his blue eyes.
At least he was being reasonable.
“Everything is being done to see to your comfort and care while you are guests at Forester Hall,” Lucinda assured them.
“Will His Grace be joining us for tea?” Lord Howth inquired.
They probably hoped to gain his permission without the effort of courting her.
“Given the circumstances, he’s managing the situation,” Lucinda answered.
“Yes, of course,” a few murmured.
“As for the rest of my family, they are currently not in residence.”
Disappointment flashed across Lord Ferrard’s features, and for the first time since she entered the parlor, Lucinda was intrigued.
“My son doesn’t intend to be present any more than necessary,” Grandmother announced.
“Why is that?” Lord Kilmuir asked.
“You are not here for him, but her.” Grandmother raised her cane and pointed it at Lucinda, much to her embarrassment. “The invitation was clear, the one each of you accepted. You’re not here to court His Grace.”
“Yes, of course,” Lord Dalhousie pulled at his cravat.
“The four of us will act as chaperones.”
Grandmother and the sisters Tilson all nodded in unison; their mouths set with determination.
It was Lady Esther who frowned, however. “I daresay that I am unfamiliar with some of these lords. How will we keep them straight?”
A few of the guests were taken aback, and Lucinda assumed that they believed everyone should know who they were.
“Oh, I know,” her grandmother announced. “Simply by letter.”
“Letter?” Lady Priscilla asked.
“As Lucinda pointed out, they are the first eleven letters of the alphabet, and only missing a J. Therefore, they shall be Lord A, Lord B, Lord C, and so on.”
“Excellent idea,” Lady Joanna eagerly agreed. “Perhaps they should wear the letter on their lapel until we come to know them.”
“Of all the ridiculous nonsense,” Lord B complained.
“What’s important is that Lady Lucinda knows who we are,” Lord G added.
Unfortunately, she did, and every time Lords B and G spoke, she wished they’d leave.
“I rather like the idea,” grandmother countered. “And so it shall be. Gentlemen, please ensure that your letter is attached to your lape
l for the remainder of your visit.”
Caleb relaxed on the balustrade and grinned. This was going to be quite interesting.
He knew of the gentlemen from his visits to London, but did not know them. And, while he couldn’t determine who might win Lady Lucinda in the end, Lord B had already lost when he patronized her. Had a gentleman taken such a tone with one of Caleb’s sisters, he might have earned an ear blistering while Lady Lucinda simply stiffened at his tone.
“Perhaps you should each share something about yourself and why you believe you are the best candidate for Lady Lucinda’s hand,” his Aunt Priscilla suggested.
“Lady Lucinda already knows us,” Lord E replied.
And another has been stricken from the list. At least that was Caleb’s opinion.
“Don’t be dismissive of me, young man.” Aunt Priscilla whacked her fan against the table.
It was all Caleb could do not to laugh aloud.
“If her father was intent on marrying her off to the wealthiest, titled and best connected, he would have done so already,” Aunt Joanna chastised. “You ten are here to win her heart. If you cannot make the effort, then it’s best you leave.”
All ten lords straightened as if disciplined.
“How goes it down there?”
Caleb turned to the whispered voice only to come face to face with His Grace, the Duke of Arscott.
“Why aren’t you down there instead of hovering up here?”
“I simply accompanied my great-aunts.” He nodded to the three ladies.
“Since when did they need anyone to accompany them anywhere?” he chuckled.
“That was my question as well, Your Grace, but they insisted.”
The duke shook his head. “Those three are always up to mischief and I’m never certain if they can be trusted.” There was nothing but affection in his tone.
“In that you are correct,” Caleb answered.
His Grace laughed quietly. “They probably intended on you being down there as well.”
“I fear you may be correct, but it is not my place.”
The duke studied him. “Why is that?”
“I am but a mister with nothing to offer.”
“Yes, well, I’m not certain those ten have anything to offer either, but they are who my mother chose.”
“Her Grace? Not you?” Caleb assumed the duke would want to choose his son-in-law.
“I just want Lucinda settled and happy.” With that he marched off down the corridor and disappeared behind a panel in the wall. Before it closed, Caleb caught a glimpse of a lantern-lit stairwell.
So, that was how the duke was going to remain unseen and unavailable, sneaking through his own house through secret passages.
“Why are you hovering above like a voyeur, Mr. Copeland?” Her Grace called up to him.
“I apologize, I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“Come down and join us.”
“I really don’t think I should.” He started to back away from the balustrade with every intention of disappearing until it was time to escort his great-aunts home.
“I do!” Her Grace ordered, leaving him little choice.
“Yes, of course, Your Grace.”
Blast! He really didn’t want to be a part of that gathering, but he had little choice now. At least nobody expected him to woo Lady Lucinda.
“Copeland?” he heard one of the gentlemen ask as he approached the parlor.
“Yes, my great-nephew,” Aunt Priscilla answered.
“The future heir of the Duke of Ellings?” another asked.
Caleb rolled his eyes. There was more to a man than title.
“Only if his older brother and father precede him in death.”
“Please don’t hasten the demise of my family, Aunt Priscilla,” Caleb announced as he entered. “I have no desire to fill their shoes.” With that he approached the duchess and bowed. “Thank you for welcoming me into your home.”
“You are the great-nephew of my dearest friends. You are always welcome.”
“I suppose we will be calling you Mr. C?” Lord E snorted.
“No, that isn’t necessary,” Aunt Joanna piped up. “We know him well. You may call him Mr. Copeland.”
“Would you care for a cup of tea, Mr. Copeland?” Lady Lucinda asked as she started to rise.
“Please, remain seated. I can pour myself.”
Which he did, but mainly so that he could stay back and observe and not be brought into the conversation.
It was tedious to listen as they each tried to impress Lady Lucinda, and by the time they were finished, Caleb knew what titles they’d inherit, number of siblings, and where their estates lie. However, they really offered nothing about themselves.
“Goodness, it’s gotten rather chilly in here.” Aunt Esther rubbed her arms.
Her Grace glanced to the fireplace. “It seems the fire has burned down.”
All ten fops looked to the dying embers but not one of them rose to stir them or add more wood.
“Shall I ring for a servant, Lady Lucinda?” Lord A inquired. “I’d hate for you to become cold.”
“They can’t be spared,” Lady Lucinda answered.
“At least have one fetch you a shawl,” Lord D insisted. “It would only take a moment of their time.”
Could not one of them build a blasted fire?
With a nod to his aunts, Caleb set his tea aside and strode to the fireplace and added the small bit of coal that remained in the bucket, then stacked kindling and firewood, stirring the embers until some of the wood caught and once again burned brightly.
“If you’ll excuse me.” He stood and lifted the now empty coal bucket. “I’ll see that this is refilled, and the wood replenished.”
“Thank you, Caleb,” Aunt Joanna called as he exited the parlor.
It didn’t take him long to locate what he needed and as he returned to the parlor, he stopped a maid and asked that she retrieve shawls for the ladies. He’d just finished stacking the kindling when the maid entered carrying the requested shawls. Five of the lords leapt and rushed forward to retrieve one and hurried to Lady Lucinda. She selected the one that was hers and Lord H assisted in draping it across her shoulders. The other four were disappointed, but assisted Caleb’s aunts and Her Grace in a similar manner before taking their seats.
If they really cared for their comfort, one of them would have figured out how to build a fire.
Biting back a few expletives, Caleb left for more wood. If they were going to be in here all evening, there wasn’t enough to keep it burning into the night, and as the household was short of staff, the least he could do was make himself useful.
Three
While Lucinda absently accepted the shawl from Lord H, her mind was on Mr. Copeland. Before he’d done so, she’d been about to rise to build the fire herself, as the lords in the parlor seemed to be helpless. Would they have pulled themselves from their seats if she would have done so?
“Lady Lucinda, you didn’t partake in any of the cakes or biscuits,” Lord H tsked. “Let me get you a plate.”
“No thank you,” she murmured, yet he ignored her wishes and crossed to the tea cart.
Oh, she did enjoy referring to them by the first letter and it reminded her of the gossip posts she enjoyed in London, where only initials were used to report the most titillating tales.
“Lady Lucinda, your tea is gone. Please let me refill it for you.”
“It’s really not necessary,” she responded, yet Lord F took the cup from her hand.
“I’d prefer brandy,” she murmured almost to herself.
Lord E laughed. “Such a wit.”
Lucinda simply lifted an eyebrow in challenge. It was possible she might drink an entire bottle in her chambers tonight.
“The fire has begun to warm the room,” Lord G observed. “It was good of Mister Copeland to see to the chore.”
She took a deep breath and silently blew it out. This was only the first day and she had p
romised her father that she’d come to know the gentlemen and could only pray that the coming days were not as trying as this tea.
Mr. Copeland entered a moment later carrying a stack of wood. After he set everything aside, he added more to the fire, stirred the embers then brushed his hands free of ash.
“Now that we’ve all come to know one another, somewhat, and have enjoyed tea, it’s time to discuss why you are all here,” her grandmother announced.
Lucinda bit back a groan while she noted that Mr. Copeland stepped away from the others and returned to his place by the tea cart, as if he were a footman.
“You all know why you’ve been invited. You would not have accepted if you weren’t interested in courting Lady Lucinda with the hope of winning her hand.” She looked at each of the gentlemen. “During this ten-day visit, each morning following breakfast, one of you will have the opportunity to spend time with Lucinda, properly chaperoned, of course. As for the afternoon, there will be group entertainments for anyone who wishes to attend. Nothing has been planned for the evenings. Lady Lucinda may wish to spend more time with you as a group or an individual, or she might wish to be alone to contemplate her decisions. During the times that you are not in her company, you may make use of the billiards room where a card table is also available, as well as the usual beverages young lords enjoy.”
Lucinda’s eyes grew wide. She didn’t know this is what had been planned.
“Under no circumstances are you to bother His Grace unless he requests your presence,” her grandmother continued. “It is Lady Lucinda you must win, not her father. If, however, either she or you determine that you will not suit, you may leave or will be asked to leave and will not be required to remain for the duration of the house party. Are there any questions?”
Stunned silence pierced the room.
“Lovely,” her grandmother beamed. “I’m certain that we are all going to have a wonderful holiday.”
Caleb chuckled as he made his way back through the kitchens, glad that he wasn’t truly a selected guest.
“Mr. Copeland, what are you doing in my kitchen again?” Cook demanded.