* * *
‘Good morning, my love.’ Alexander got to his feet as she entered the sitting room, brushing a kiss to her cheek, presumably for the benefit of the chambermaid, who was setting out breakfast.
‘Good morning.’
Eloise took her place at the table, smiling her thanks to the maid, who set out a fresh pot of tea, and watching Alexander as he poured coffee for himself before dismissing the help. He spoke to servants with a casual air of authority, as one accustomed to command, in fact. And why shouldn’t he, she chastised her suspicious mind, for though he had not been raised in the London house, his childhood home had been a large country estate.
She cut herself a slice of the bread, which smelled deliciously yeasty. There was butter, jam, a cheese. Alexander helped himself to a plate of sausage and egg from a covered dish, smiling when she shuddered her refusal of the same. ‘Did you ask the maid to bring me early morning tea to my bedchamber? If so, I’m grateful.’
‘My motives were purely selfish. I had no desire to have a bear with a sore head as my breakfast companion.’
She chuckled. ‘Wise man. Do you prefer silence, or would you like to talk?’
‘I have no idea. I’m accustomed to silence, since I always take breakfast alone, but since you’ve come prepared to make conversation, it would be very rude of me to decline your offer.’ He took a sip of coffee. ‘And, I suspect, ineffective too.’
‘I can be perfectly silent if I choose to be!’ Eloise sipped her tea and cut another slice of bread. ‘Though we do, as it happens, have a great deal to discuss.’
‘We do. You know I’m teasing you, don’t you?’
‘Yes. You are very good at remaining deadpan, but it is there in your eyes.’
‘I had no idea I was so transparent.’
‘You’re not. It’s just that I’m very observant.’
‘I’ve noticed. Being so very observant myself.’ Alexander pushed his plate aside, pouring another cup of coffee. ‘We are expected at Fearnoch House in an hour, but if you want to postpone our arrival...’
‘No. Actually, I’m rather looking forward to seeing it, now that I know that you—Now that we have agreed to explore it together. It will be an adventure. I shall think of myself as Uncle Daniel, though without the risk of encountering wild animals.’
‘Wild animals?’
‘Kate says that my uncle is happiest when he is in the most dangerous and remote parts of the world. I assume that he encounters all sorts of wild animals there, though he says next to nothing of where he is and what he does, in his letters.’
‘No, I don’t expect he does,’ Alexander said. ‘On account of not wishing to worry your aunt and your sisters, I presume.’ He pushed back his chair, returned to the table with a leather folder and began to flick through the sheaf of papers. ‘I’ve had Robertson open an account for you at Coutts. As you can see, the opening balance shows the lump sum settlement we agreed, and your first quarter’s allowance.’
Eloise stared at the figures, then stared at Alexander, then stared at the figures again. ‘I have a bank account?’
‘I could hardly hand over such a sum in cash. You need to sign here, and some time over the next few days I’ll take you in and introduce you, but I thought you’d probably need some money for day-to-day expenses.’ He handed over a small bundle of notes.
‘I don’t need all that. I didn’t expect an allowance. The sum...’ She eyed the eye-watering number again. ‘The sum you’ve settled on me is more than sufficient.’
‘That is yours, as agreed. Your wedding present, I suppose you could call it, to do with completely as you please. I don’t want you using it for living expenses, and, of course, your bills must be sent to me.’
‘What bills?’
‘I don’t know, your trousseau for a start.’ He put a finger over her mouth when she opened it to protest. ‘It’s non-negotiable, Eloise, and nothing more than any woman in your position would expect. Now, as to a marriage notice in the press, here is what Robertson has drafted up.’
Another piece of paper was pushed in front of her, but she did not read it immediately. ‘Alexander, expected or not, you are being exceedingly generous. Thank you.’ She read the notice. ‘It seems very odd to see my name in print like this. What about your mother? Have you...?’
‘I have notified her. My letter went with Robertson’s communiqué regarding her settlement. She should have it today or tomorrow.’
‘Will she—should we expect her?’
‘To visit? No.’
He was leafing through the papers again, his brow furrowed. As far as Alexander was concerned, the subject was closed. As far as Eloise was concerned—oh, for goodness’ sake, she had more than enough to deal with as it was. ‘Shall we be expected to entertain other visitors?’
‘One step at a time! I think we’d better familiarise ourselves with the house first.’ He pulled a floor plan from the folder, unrolling it on the breakfast table.
‘Good heavens.’ Eloise studied it in astonishment. ‘I have a dreadful sense of direction. I’ll need a guide if I am not to be lost for ever, wandering stairwells and passages.’
‘It’s not as bad as it looks. All you have to do to orientate yourself is...’
She listened, and she tried very hard to follow what Alexander was saying, but the more she looked, the bigger and more intimidating the house began to appear. Music Room. Library. Large Drawing Room. Small Drawing Room. Ladies’ Retiring Room. Gentlemen’s Retiring Room. Billiard Room. Garden Room. Morning Room. Breakfast Parlour. And then there were the bedrooms. The servants’ quarters. Attics. Kitchens. Her eyes roved over the elevations on the plans. There was a distillery. And three china stores.
‘This isn’t a house, it’s a palace and I am not a princess, never mind a queen. How many servants are there?’
‘You don’t really want to know.’
‘How many?’
He told her. She winced. He pulled her to her feet, taking her hands in his. ‘I’ll be right beside you—remember, this is all as strange to me as it is to you.’
‘No, it’s not. I mean this is, this great big barrack of a place, but you were raised in a stately home.’
‘You weren’t exactly raised in a wattle-and-daub cottage.’
‘No, no, that’s true, but we had hardly any servants when Mama and Papa weren’t there, and most of the house was closed off. When they came, there were servants, of course there were, Mama would not risk breaking a fingernail by drawing a curtain herself, let alone laying a fire, but they were Mama and Papa’s servants, Alexander.’
‘I thought you said you were nineteen when they died?’
‘Yes, but we still lived, my sisters and I, in the nursery suite. How do you think Phoebe became such a good cook? We had to fend for ourselves, most of the time. So you see, it’s not the same for you and me. When you walk into a room, no one doubts you are an earl. When you ring the bell, servants jump to obey you, while I...’
‘Do you think that I’d throw you in the deep end if I didn’t think you could cope?’
‘No, but...’
‘Think of all the things that you’ve had to deal with in your life. Looking after your sisters, and then not only losing your parents and your brother, but having to come to a new country, to make a home with a complete stranger—think about how well you dealt with all of these things, Eloise. What you are facing is a walk in the park compared to that.’
She bit her lip, forcing herself to take calming breaths. ‘I know you’re right.’
‘And I know you can do it. It’s not an ordeal, it’s a voyage of discovery, remember?’
‘To a very distant and strange country.’
‘Not so distant. It’s only a ten-minute walk from here.’
‘You expect me to walk! Have you forgotten, my lord, that I am a m
ember of the aristocracy now?’
‘Then I shall carry you, all the way over the threshold!’
Her heart was still beating fast, though no longer with panic. She was sure Alexander was teasing her, but there was that strange feeling again when she looked at him, a twisting, churning in her stomach that was close to fear, but a more exhilarating relative. ‘You couldn’t! You wouldn’t!’
The words were barely out of her mouth when he scooped her up, making her shriek in surprise. ‘Put me down!’ Her arm was around his neck. He held her high against his chest. Their gazes met. Her breath caught in her throat. ‘At once.’
He set her back down. Her arm was still around his neck. His arm was around her waist. They were simply acting their parts, she realised with relief. There was no need for her to panic. She could stand here, in the circle of his arms, let her hand touch the skin at the nape of his neck, and it was all pretence, the way her touch made him exhale, as she tilted her face to his. Playacting, as his lips met hers, her head spinning with contrary feelings, a longing to be kissed, a fear of being kissed, wanting him to hold her tighter, wanting to run. She froze.
Alexander released her immediately. ‘I’m sorry.’
Mortified, because now she was wishing she had let him kiss her, Eloise strove for composure. ‘We were just acting,’ she said, though the words which had sounded so convincing in her head sounded hollow aloud. ‘You don’t need to apologise.’
Alexander was silent for several long seconds, then he nodded and began to fold up the floor plan. ‘We should go. The staff will be lined up and waiting.’
‘I’ll just fetch my hat and pelisse.’
He caught her arm as she turned away. ‘I have every confidence in you.’
* * *
‘You look extremely smart,’ Alexander said as they stood at the foot of the steps leading up to Fearnoch House. Before they left the hotel, he’d told her she looked lovely, the truth but a mistake, he had realised too late. What she wanted was to be told that she looked every inch the Countess. ‘Modish, but not too frivolous. The feather in your hat is set at just the perfect angle—neither flirtatious nor provocative, but not stern either. The scarf...’
‘You can stop now, but thank you for trying.’
‘You look perfect, Eloise. I mean that.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Are you ready?’
‘As ready as I’ll ever be. What about you, are you ready?’
He shrugged. It hadn’t occurred to him that he might not be. There was no reason why he shouldn’t be. ‘I’m perfectly fine.’
He took her arm as the huge door was flung open. Eloise did not falter, but Alexander did, stumbling slightly as he crossed the long-forbidden threshold. His brother had died in this house, as had several earls before him. Now here he was, forced to walk in their footsteps, live in their shadows. He had a sudden overwhelming urge to run. He didn’t want to know if the ghosts who haunted his dreams were real. He didn’t want to face the reality of what he had been deprived of, and he didn’t want to be faced once more with the question of why, why, why. Though he knew the answer now. He had worked it out for himself, years ago, as the only plausible explanation. The change to the Sixth Earl’s will confirmed it.
Eloise tugged his arm gently, forcing him to look down at her. ‘I have every confidence in you too,’ she whispered.
They would make this place their own, he and his brave wife, he reminded himself, fixing a smile to his face as the butler approached.
‘My lord, my lady, welcome to Fearnoch House, and on behalf of the staff, may I offer my warmest congratulations on your wedding.’
‘Thank you,’ Eloise spoke for them, her grip still firm on his arm. ‘Lord Fearnoch and I are very pleased to be here at last.’
‘Wiggins.’ Alexander recalled the man’s name with some relief. ‘Mr Robertson tells me that you and the staff have worked tirelessly to have the house ready for us.’
‘Thank you, my lord. There is a great deal still to be done, but no doubt you’ll want to put your own mark on the place. And your ladyship, of course. Now, if I may.’
Wiggins threw open the second set of doors, ushering them into the main hallway, and now Eloise’s steps did falter. Now it was his turn to support her, which he did, urging her forward to face the massed ranks of the servants, which looked to be at least double the number listed on the inventory. The housekeeper, Mrs McGilvery, was introduced first. The upper servants stood in two lines, men on one side, women on the other, like a guard of honour. Two more ranks were formed on the staircase which curved gracefully up from the ground level.
They made slow progress. Wiggins introduced the most senior staff personally, each one bowing or curtsying low. Alexander nodded, shook hands, realised that none of them expected to shake his hand, then realised that having started he couldn’t stop.
‘Another James?’ Eloise exclaimed, startling him from his stupor. She had stopped in her tracks, forcing Alexander to do the same. ‘You can’t possibly all be called James,’ she said, looking back down the row of footmen.
‘Excuse me, my lady.’ Wiggins intervened. ‘You are perhaps not aware that it is the Fearnoch tradition to address all the footmen as James, and all the upper chambermaids are Margaret. It makes things easier.’
‘Easier? For whom? Alexander—I mean, my lord, my love—we cannot—James and Margaret! It is an insult. These people are individuals and deserve to be treated as such.’
Eloise looked outraged. Wiggins was looking down at his feet. Mrs McGilvery was smiling grimly. The various Jameses were eyeing their new mistress with a mixture of astonishment, respect and barely concealed amusement. The arrogance of his father and his brother and heaven knew how many of his ancestors before them, to care so little for the people who served them that they couldn’t be bothered to learn their names. The situation was utterly preposterous.
Alexander bit back a laugh. ‘My wife is perfectly correct,’ he said. ‘This will be the first of many traditions we intend to change.’
‘And while we are making changes, there is no need for the footmen to powder their hair,’ Eloise added.
Smiling, Alexander manoeuvred his way out of the guard of honour, taking his wife with him, to a position in the hall where he could see everyone, and everyone could see them. ‘Thank you for taking the time to greet us. I am sure that Lady Fearnoch and I will in time get to know all of you, but for now, you’ll understand that we would like to be left to ourselves, to become acquainted with our new home. Wiggins will arrange for a celebratory drink for all in the Servant’s Hall. Now, if you’ll excuse us?’
* * *
‘Thank heavens.’ As the green baize door closed on the bewildered butler and the last of the servants, Eloise heaved a sigh of relief. ‘James and Margaret indeed! I wonder what name they bestowed on the scullery maids.’
‘None at all, would be my guess. What would an earl have to do with a scullery maid?’
‘That depends on how pretty the scullery maid is, and how much of a sense of entitlement the earl has,’ Eloise said sardonically. ‘Not that I am suggesting for a moment that your brother or your father would stoop so low.’
‘I would very much like to think that they confined their activities to brothels—excuse me for being blunt—but the truth is, I really do know very little about them, save by reputation.’
‘Didn’t your paths ever cross?’
‘You find it surprising to believe that they didn’t?’ Alexander asked wryly. ‘I suppose it is surprising, in a way. London is not that big a city, and I do not spend all my time abroad.’ He sat down on one of the many flimsy, gilded chairs scattered about the marble-floored space. ‘There is no mystery to it. I avoided places where I might bump into either of them, and I must assume they did the same.’
‘It must feel—I can’t imagine how it must
feel, then, to be here, in this house...’
‘Walking in their footsteps, living in their shadows.’ Alexander grimaced. ‘I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me until I walked through the front door.’
‘I don’t think I’d like to revisit our house in Ireland. I think I’d feel exactly the same, and I at least have the benefit of some happy memories.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Though none of them involve my parents.’
Alexander extricated himself with some difficulty from the chair. ‘These are rather more decorative than practical.’ He held out his hand. ‘Are you ready to survey your new domain, my lady?’
He had changed the subject again. She hesitated only a second before taking her cue, dropping him a curtsy. ‘I will follow your lead, my lord. Because if you follow me,’ she added, with a teasing smile, ‘I don’t rate our chances of ever finding our way out of here alive. Which way?’
Alexander consulted the plan. ‘That is the grand staircase. There’s another, presumably less grand, in the other wing. This,’ he said, opening a door, ‘is the small parlour, probably used as a waiting room for guests.’
‘Reserved for unwelcome guests, going by the furniture,’ Eloise said, grimacing as she sat down, ‘This is an exceedingly uncomfortable chair. What is next?’
Alexander led the way back out, across the hall, throwing open a set of double doors. ‘The music room. And according to the inventory, most of the instruments were collected by the Fifth Earl.’
‘That would be your grandfather?’
Either Alexander didn’t hear her, or he assumed that his silence was sufficient agreement. ‘I believe that some of these are very old.’
The Earl's Countess of Convenience Page 9