Healing The Broken Marchioness (Laced Up Ladies Book 2)

by Ella Edon

  Victoria nodded.

  “Then why are you curled up here?”

  Victoria smiled again. “Just waiting for Miss Baines.”

  Katherine didn’t like what she was hearing. The governess had run an errand in town that morning and was not back yet.

  “She’s late, but she should be back by now.” Katherine ticked her tongue.

  Victoria nodded.

  Katherine sighed. “She’ll be here soon, darling.”

  Victoria nodded again.

  Staring at her daughter, Katherine wondered if she would smile the same again, or if she would, with time, forget how her father died, how she’d heard the news and how her mother had fled. Katherine hoped that Victoria would always be happy. That she would find a true love who would never leave her, for death or for any other reason.

  Katherine had learned, over the past seven months, that it was best to leave anyone who wanted to cry in silence, alone. Which was why she rose from the bed, kissed her daughter’s cheeks. “I’ll go now, darling."

  Katherine stared at Victoria for a while. Perhaps she needed to be alone, to remember her father on her own. Silence helped Katherine gather the pieces after Victor’s death. She was sure her daughter would want the same thing. She stepped out of the room and shut the door behind her.

  Chapter Four

  Arthur just wanted to be away from the house for a while, and he wanted to go without having to disturb anyone. Which was why he made no effort to summon the coachman and intended to find a horse for his use. He was making his way to the stables, when he ran into the coachman, Gerald, coming out of the house. Arthur looked away from the man and walked on.

  “Do you need something, My Lord?" he called out, walking quickly to where Arthur stood.

  Arthur creased his brows, surprised that the man was even talking to him. He whirled around, hand on hat, to steady it and keep it from falling, while the old man stared at him.

  “Are you talking to me?”

  The old man nodded. “There’s no one else here, My Lord.”

  “Of course,” he muttered and looked away from the old man and at the carriage sitting in front of the house.

  Gerald nodded sideways. “Where are you headed?” the man asked again, with narrowed eyes. “That path leads to the stables. Do you need a lift, My Lord?”

  Arthur wasn’t sure what the man thought of him, but he was sure the man was suspicious of him. He kept a straight face as he replied, “I need to go into town, now. I was hoping to take a horse. However, seeing as you’re here, I wonder if you’d be willing to take me to Old Street?”

  “Old Street? What might ye seek there. You have only just arrived.”

  “I need an office, and so, on my way here, the driver had informed me that there are open spaces at Old Street. I’d like to check it out.”

  Gerald's stiff shoulders relaxed. “Pray tell, My Lord, what do you seek an Office for?”

  “I am a barrister, and I would love to open an office here in Somerset,” Arthur said. He placed his hand inside his coat and the pocket watch was soon in his hands. He flipped the gold cover open and stared at the ticking watch. “I must be on my way. Time waits for no man.”

  He flipped the watch closed and placed it in his pocket.

  The man before him stared at him; he seemed fascinated. Arthur recognized the glow in his eyes. He smiled warmly at the man. “I must be on my way.”

  Gerald raised a brow at Arthur. “Pray tell, how do you intend to move around Somerset when you’ve only just arrived and you do not know the way?”

  “I’d ask around.” Arthur hoped that the coachman would offer to give him a ride in the carriage. He wasn’t sure what way to go, and he certainly didn’t want to get lost in Somerset.

  “I’ll take you, My Lord.” The man bowed. "It is my job, after all.

  Arthur saw no need for the title attached to him and didn’t also find it necessary that the man would bow to him. He had studied at the University College, Oxford, where he had received his degree as a barrister. There, he had learned that a handshake was quite more appropriate and so he extended his hand.

  Gerald stared at it for a while before taking it and smiling fondly. Then he jerked his head to the carriage. “Time waits for no man, My Lord.”

  Arthur laughed. Together, they headed to the carriage.

  * * *

  Arthur had seen many towns, cities, and even villages. His father had been quite the traveler, and Arthur had been with him on few trips before he went off to University College. Somerset, however, was an exceptional town. It was large, and near to many other smaller towns. Gerald said it was bordered by Richmond on the east, and York at the far west. They were now in Old Street, and the carriage wheeled to a stop, in front of a jeweler’s shop. Arthur poked his head out of the carriage before getting out.

  He turned to Gerald. “Do you see a vacancy anywhere?”

  Gerald nodded as he alighted from the driver’s seat. He nodded towards the shop beside the Jeweler’s, which was empty.

  “I know who rents it out, sir.” Gerald smiled. “I wager he’d give it to you at a fine cost. Nothing too much.”

  Gerald asked to be excused before he walked into the jeweler’s shop. He came out a few moments later with a fat man who wore a frock coat, a white waist coat and a white inner shirt. He laughed at something Gerald said. On approaching Arthur, his smile widened.

  “You must be Lord Bowmount. We've anticipated your arrival for many a month, now." The man bowed, just the same time Arthur stuck his hand out with a smile.

  The man raised a brow at Gerald, who nodded, smiling as well.

  Then slowly, he took Arthur’s hand in his and shook it slowly at first before fully grinning and shaking it so rapidly.

  “Welcome to Somerset. I’m Mr. William Herondale. My friend tells me you want a place to rent?”

  Arthur nodded. “Indeed. Something small, I suppose, but spacious enough to fit myself and my work in. As well as the people who may troop in, of course.”

  Mr. Herondale nodded as Arthur spoke. He nodded absent-mindedly, as though he didn’t know that he was nodding. Arthur wondered if he heard anything.

  “I presume this place is yours?”

  Mr. Herondale nodded. “It is. It is best you take a look.”

  They walked to the door of the shop. The Baron slipped out a bunch of keys from his pocket and swung it for a while before putting it into the door knob and unlocking it. He grinned happily and signaled them in. Arthur nearly wheezed because of the chronic stench in the place. It smelled old, dirty, and rotten, as if there was something dead inside.

  “Ah ha! The woman who stayed here before was a baker. Owned a bakery, used a lot of eggs.” Mr. Herondale tittered. Although the man didn’t explain further, Arthur knew he was simply clarifying why the place smelled so much.

  Arthur took in the place with his eyes and a kerchief placed over his nose. The shop was not small, and it certainly wasn’t large, either. It had an inner office, right after a small reception corner. He wondered if it wasn’t too small for a bakery. He wondered how the woman who had been there before had managed.

  The floor was filled with broken glass pieces and debris that crunched beneath his feet. There was one window facing outside, and another in the inner office. The inner office had a built-in safe where he could keep important files. The outer place could be put into good use, too; Arthur liked the place instantly. He only wondered if the stench would go. Since there were certainly a lot of other options, he thought he’d check around before making his decision. Somerset was quite large after all.

  He nodded at Mr. Herondale, and he saw Gerald smile in delight. Arthur wanted to tell the Baron that he’d get back to him, but Gerald seemed so excited. So instead, he said; “Baron, is this the only place vacant, that you own? It’s a fine place, but I’d like to see more of what you own before making a decision. I hope that won’t be a bother.”

  He grinned. “Certainly not!
I have three more shops on Fifth Street, only a short walk from here. If you’d like to, we could take a look.”

  Arthur sighed in relief. After the man locked up, and Gerald had failed to convince Arthur to get in the carriage, they all began the walk down to Fifth Street.

  The first shop was situated in between a Seamstress’s shop and a small bank. It was neat, but not nearly as spacious as the first one. Arthur prayed that he would not have to tell Herondale that he was not interested in any of his shops after he saw that the second one looked like the first.

  Finally, the third one was perfect. It was exactly like the first one that he had seen, but without the stench. This one was neat, with no broken glass. Most importantly, it was sandwiched between a loan shop and a solicitor’s office. It was the perfect place to begin. He could work hand in hand with the solicitor.

  He turned to Gerald. “Is there any Barrister here in Somerset? “

  Gerald shook his head. “There was one, over in Old Street. He left a few years back, because he was called to the King’s Counsel. However, there are a few in York and Richmond. There’s one in York and about three in Richmond.”

  Arthur nodded, staring at the solicitor’s office. “I see.” Then he turned to Mr. Herondale. “I’d like to rent this space, and I’d like it to be cleaned by tomorrow. I’d like to move in by the day after.”

  Mr. Herondale was quite pleased to hear this. He bowed low. “Thank you, My Lord! I’ll have it all fixed up for you.”

  After they discussed the price and Arthur handed him a bag of gold coins, he headed back to Bowmount Hall. He wasn’t quite sure that it was home yet. As they wheeled down the street and Gerald chattered nonstop, Arthur’s mind drifted to Lady Bowmount. He wondered how Victor had married someone of such an opposing character to his own. Victor was calm, quiet most times, and he rarely ever argued. But his wife... widow— was different.

  Arthur had been surprised when he met her. She was fierce, outspoken, loyal. He admired how she stood up to him, how she defended what Victor had left behind. He meant no disrespect, but even Victor could not have defended himself like that, or something he held dear. Arthur's lips parted as he recalled Lady Bowmount, how she'd stood in the drawing room, telling him exactly how she felt. He'd not been angered by her words, rather he had been amused. She'd amused him. And slowly, he had found himself smiling at her. At her beauty. Merely locking gazes with her had made him feel restless — Arthur shook his head, wondering what had come over him. She was mourning her husband. And she had been his cousin's wife. He should not be feeling that way towards her.

  Regardless of how he admired Lady Bowmount's insistence on his sole concentration to the Bowmount Hall, he could not give up his practice as a barrister. He knew what it took to go through University College before he finally became what he wanted to be, just like his father. He had worked too hard to just give it all up.

  Gerald urged the horses at a steady clip down the empty road, whistling. Arthur smiled. It looked to him like he'd won Gerald over. The house came into view. He hoped that he would not see the Dowager Marchioness or Lady Bowmount as he stepped inside. He didn't want any more argument, nor did he want to see Lady Bowmount's blue eyes blazing with fury. As he recalled her earlier snarl at him, and the anger her blue eyes held, he wondered about her. He wondered if it was simply Victor's death that had made her so defensive. He wondered many things about her and wished he knew the answers to all. Perhaps he would learn more about her with time. Perhaps.

  Chapter Five

  The entire place smelled of freshly baked bread and tea. It was so early in the morning that the entire house was quiet. She wondered who would be awake so early. Thankfully, she had slipped on her casual grey colored muslin before walking out of her bedchamber. She had intended to see how Victoria was, for the child had refused to sleep with her in her bedchamber. After ensuring that she was fast asleep, Katherine came out of the room to the smell which made her look at the wall clock in the hallway before deciding to find out who was responsible.

  Her second feet touched the last of the staircase, slowly, she walked to the dining room, where she was so sure the smell came from. She walked with her head high, and her hands clasped. Whoever it was that thought it right to simply make breakfast before the day broke would have to get severely punished. It was wrong for one to eat whenever they liked. Everyone was to eat at the same time, which was why Analisa was there, to make sure all food was distributed equally, and at the dining table, at respective hours.

  She flung the door open, ready to scold whatever worker was doing such rubbish. She knew it would be a worker. She had caught Darlene trying to steal bread before. Darlene would have been out of Bowmount Hall if Victor hadn’t intervened and given her the benefit of doubt, demanding that she’d never do such a thing again.

  She walked into the room but stopped dead by the door at the sight before her. She held her breath, blinking in surprise. The sight before her made her speechless.

  Sitting at the head of the table— the place that no one occupied since Victor's passing, was Lord Bowmount, with a cup of tea by his right hand. Not far from it were two loaves of bread, and a briefcase on his left. Piled above it was a stack of cream colored paper. His hair was ruffled, the buttons of his coat were open, showing off his waistcoat, and his hat was on the desk behind the seat, where artifacts that Victor collected from most of his travels sat. He sipped a bit of tea, then glanced at one of the papers beside him.

  It would seem that he was one who was used to waking up so early in the morning. Sitting there, with the light from the candles reflecting on his face, he looked quite normal... She liked how his ruffled hair fell across his face, and how he tried to push it back so that he could read. He seemed to quite occupied. Drinking his tea, while pushing his hair out of his eyes in order to read the paper. She almost smiled, almost, because it was quite intriguing to watch him like that. But then, his looked up in surprise, before his blue eyes met hers and she froze again.

  His surprise faded, he pushed the paper aside, pushed his hair backwards and sat upright, as though self-conscious. When his gaze broke away from hers, she felt her breathing start to slow. Then she recalled why she had rushed in in the first place and realized that she should be scolding him. What he was doing was inappropriate.

  First, he was not supposed to have breakfast alone, and so early. Every member of the household dined together, at the same time. Second, his briefcase was on the dining room table. Nothing other than food should be on that table. As she thought of those things, she tried to come across as angry as she should be and convince herself of her anger. She cleared her throat and attempted to speak. His gaze locked with hers again and she was tongue-tied. Ticking her tongue, she looked away from him and cocked her head to the side.

  "Lord Bowmount," Katherine said, clasping her hands together.

  Lord Bowmount looked up from the cup of tea. He smiled at her. "Good Morning, My Lady."

  Katherine didn't think the morning was good at all. It was anything but.

  "Would you like to join me?" he offered casually. His hands gestured to the teapot which was probably still filled with tea. Katherine was silent as she watched him. He rose quickly, and said, "I can get you a teacup -"

  "That would be most unnecessary." Katherine cleared her throat again, wondering how to start to feign anger that would cover up for her uneasiness each time their gazes locked. She needed to do this, to show him that she didn't at all like that he was at Bowmount Hall. She clenched her teeth and looked at the teapot, away from his eyes. With the reminder that he was here to take all that had belonged to her late husband, she let her anger take over.

  "Lord Bowmount, I find it disturbing that you've awoken so early and requested breakfast. We do not do that here. Breakfast is served for everyone at once. It is wrong for you to simply walk into the kitchen as you please, without the consent of the ladies of the home." She flayed her hand. "Is this how you behave in Flitwick?
As you please? Well it just isn't done that way here, Lord Bowmount!"

  Lord Bowmount was now looking around, he looked almost confused. Quickly, he apologized. "I am sorry. I had no idea that is how it is done here. Pardon my insensitivity."

  But Katherine was not done. "No one has sat there since Victor's passing. It makes Victoria sad to see someone there."

  Lord Bowmount parted his lips, then he rose so quickly, that she feared his tea might have spilled on him. He moved to the side. His tea cup was nearly empty, and there was a loaf of bread left. He didn't look at her as he packed them all together and walked into the kitchen.

  Katherine took in the entire table where he had been sitting. She shook her head angrily. And where was he off to so early? He packed up the papers in his briefcase and took his hat from the desk behind. He bowed to her, his face full of regret. Katherine almost thought that he was being sincere, but she reminded herself of who he was and why he'd arrived at Bowmount. He spoke as her thoughts came in. "I apologize, My Lady. "