* * *
It was late when they arrived at the townhouse near Grosvenor Square, the façade dark and silent. Maddie set to work at once, to bring order to the shuttered residence without benefit of a staff to do her bidding. The old caretaker was put to the task of laying a fire in the kitchen while Nipper went off in search of edibles so that Maddie could cobble together some sort of meal. The Admiral set to work at once, running down messengers to ferry his urgent communiques to the Admiralty, while Sophie was put to the task of finding clean linen for Stephen to wear after he woke from a very deep sleep.
The following morning, the Admiral was off at dawn, leaving Maddie to entertain her brother within the strict confines of the house and back garden. Considering the fact that Stephen’s attire consisted of a dressing gown and carpet slippers, it was unlikely that he would have considered going anywhere at all.
“En dishabille, brother, so French,” Maddie said when he shuffled into the dining room for breakfast.
“I must absent myself when your little friends arrive to play with dolls,” he retorted.
“No one will come to call when they discover how thoroughly disagreeable you are,” Maddie said. “And we are not allowed callers, by order of the Admiral.”
“You have become quite the grand lady,” he said. “Won’t you take me riding so that I can assess the quality of the gentlemen you attract?”
“A mob of dullards, wastrels and bores,” she said. “Putting stock in titles, or if a title is lacking, let there be a fortune to hunt and the chase is on.”
“What? No desire on your part for emoluments? It must be the custom in this house. Our stepfather hid his title from Mama when they courted.” Stephen devoured a boiled egg in a single bite. “Didn’t tell her he was a baron until after they were married, he told me once, out of fear she would deny him.”
“Unfounded fears,” Maddie said. “Mama recognized his many fine qualities and would never have held his peerage against him.”
He leaned across the table and lowered his voice. “I saw him kiss Mama. Before you were born, when Papa went to Paris and Mama called on the Powells. The Admiral came to visit.”
“Shame on you for spying,” Maddie said. Her shock gave way to anger. Wasn’t it just like her brother to make up tales to vex her. She would not give him the satisfaction of playing into his hand. “Spying in your dreams, and doesn’t that prove how much you have always preferred the Admiral over your own father?”
The dark-eyed gaze that met her triumphant smirk sent a chill through Maddie’s core. “Our father was a mean little man who loved only himself,” Stephen said. “Be grateful you have few memories of him.”
Before the week was out, the Grosvenor Square house was known to be occupied, a fact that sparked the most absurd gossip. To listen to the maids and the footmen who arrived in haste from the country, a person would think that the French were sailing up the Thames and the Admiral would be building batteries on the muddy riverbanks. Equally implausible was the suggestion that the war was all but over and his lordship had come home because his work was done. Certainly, the coming and going of so many ministers and Sea Lords added to the speculation.
In no time, Lawrence came calling to meet with Stephen in regard to the Beauchamp Factor contracts. Their meeting was amicable, with Stephen seeing no reason to contact Ethan in regard to cancelling shipments of materiel deemed critical to England’s war effort. Contracts critical to the Beauchamp purse, in truth, but Stephen held the high ground and acted as if bonds of kinship were of utmost importance. Such sentiments inspired Maddie to host a quiet dinner, where the disparate elements of her family would be brought together under the same roof. For want of proper attire, with his uniform still undergoing extensive mending, Stephen made do with an ill-fitting assortment of his stepfather’s garments, hastily altered to fit his lanky frame. His resemblance to a finely-clad scarecrow drove Maddie into peels of laughter.
The footman announced the arrival of the guests but Stephen did not stir. Instead, he remained sprawled on the settee, leg draped over the armrest, newspaper held over his face. His left foot twitched as if he were keeping time to music in his head, a clear indication of the agitation he experienced due to inactivity and boredom. To Maddie, it was a warning of mischief.
“Lucy is my dear friend and don’t you dare say or do anything to hurt her,” Maddie said.
“Always the perfect gentleman, baby girl,” he said.
Lady Jane led the way, her eyes taking in the newcomer who moved at the speed of molasses to achieve an upright posture. As if he were at death’s door, Stephen bowed slowly and held the pose a little too long. His sad eyes hinted at some secret sorrow, a ridiculous piece of play-acting that infuriated Maddie. Every fiber of his being gave way to South Carolina languor and all Maddie could do was clench her fists in suppressed rage.
“Forgive my appearance,” Stephen drawled. “I shame my sister before our dear aunt and sweet cousin.”
With a pinch hard enough to leave a bruise, Maddie issued a warning that she was not confident would be heeded. She understood that her brother craved adventure, that he thrived on danger and courted risks. Fine qualities for a naval officer, but not at all useful in a drawing room.
“Under the circumstances, Mr. Beauchamp, one cannot find any fault,” Lady Jane said. Her cheeks took on an unnatural color, somewhat splotchy and quite unattractive.
Small talk occupied them while they waited for the Admiral and Lawrence to arrive. Adhering to Maddie’s demand, Stephen directed his words to Lady Jane and included Lucy only as much as one might speak to a young girl not yet out in society. He pretended to a great interest in the well-being of George Ashford, recalling their school days at Eton but not mentioning how they teased the plump little boy they nick-named Georgie-Porgie. Stephen described shipboard life as if it were a lark, his every sentence relieving Lady Jane of her maternal fears for her son’s safety. All in all, he managed to demonstrate an utter lack of romantic interest in the pallid ingénue of small intellect, but still Lucy hung on his every word.
In triumph, Lawrence strode into the drawing room, his elation in contrast to the air of fatigue that enveloped the Admiral. They were both pleased to report that Lawrence had managed to charm the American minister, who had come around to accept Mr. Ashford’s assertion that Lt. Beauchamp had genuinely been intending to go to England. Rumors of impressment or arrest were the result of a misunderstanding or possible miscommunication, for which Admiral Lord Bransford tendered his most sincere apologies. The offending British officers had been severely reprimanded, transferred to convoy duty in the North Sea, and thus were all ruffled feathers smoothed.
“You shall be on your way shortly,” Lawrence said. “Back to those square-rigged tea chests that pass for ships of the line.”
“An armed tea chest would be a welcome ally,” the Admiral said. His tone grew lighter, to deflect the flames of suppressed anger that burned in Stephen’s eyes. “For Maddie’s sake, I truly wish that you might have stayed the summer.”
With a nod of his head, Stephen acknowledged his own disappointment. To Lucy he sent a downcast gaze, a sweet expression that boosted the poor girl’s esteem. Such unexpected kindness lifted Maddie’s spirits, which were sinking after Lawrence’s announcement. She knew full well that Stephen would return to the sea without hesitation, driven by ambition and patriotism in equal measure. What could she offer that was more attractive than a ship and a command? Not even the prettiest girl in Charleston could entice Stephen into staying behind when advancement beckoned.
“A pity, truly,” Lady Jane said. “A weekend in the country would be beneficial. And a house party would have afforded you the opportunity to meet so very many people of rank and influence. Don’t you agree, Lucy? Wouldn’t Lieutenant Beauchamp find it refreshing?”
Tension crackled like lightening in the dining room. Fading light cast shadows on tightened features, until Stephen’s dark eyes seemed to sink into h
is skull, his true thoughts retreating from the surface. A change of topic was essential. “As Stephen is to leave, surely it can do no harm to take a drive,” Maddie said. “We shall bundle him up like an invalid, in lap robes and blankets.”
“To the country!” Stephen said. “That I might cavort in the fields in my nightshirt like the noble King George.”
“Have your drive,” the Admiral said. “But make an end of this attempt to vex me because you are bored. Find amusement, but be good enough to adhere to our agreement.”
“If the esteemed ladies would not be offended to be seen in company with this beggar in another man’s castoffs,” Stephen hung his head and stretched out his arms, to demonstrate his condition. Lucy giggled and Stephen winked at her.
The thought of escaping the confining house, of releasing Stephen’s pent-up energy, had Maddie chattering about possible routes and suitable refreshments until Lawrence put his hands over his ears. “See how our colonial treasure is transformed into a British aristocrat,” he said. “Please, do not lay the blame at my feet, or those of my dear brother, for this turn of events.”
“Not too thoroughly transformed, I trust,” Stephen said.
“I am no different than ever I was,” Maddie said. “And one cannot be forever a child of nine, nor should a brother wish it of his sister.”
“If I could,” the Admiral said. “I would keep you forever young and innocent.”
“Forever silly. Always giddy,” Stephen said. He smiled at Maddie with such warmth and love that she forget to be angry with him. She would miss him terribly. The thought of his departure pressed on her heart, pressed so hard that she winced at the pain.
The Second War of Rebellion Page 20