Chapter 9
Monday afternoon had the house in an uproar. Quentin’s friend Jasper arrived with a great deal of hoo-ha.
Quentin was ebullient with greetings, as grooms rushed to take charge of Jasper’s horses and carriage, and his own coachman and groom saw to the trunks with Biggs. Wizz went mad and ran around in circles with the children running in and out of the house offering to carry things for the new guest. Whittle and several of the servants had waited on the side-lines for instructions and lo and behold, Irene had materialised too.
Faith had been pleased to meet someone from Quentin’s past and hoped she would get snippets of times they had spent together — school and university antics. Quentin was hoping that she wouldn’t.
She found Jasper a very good-looking man.
His dark blond hair was thick, slightly wavy and cut short with sideburns that ended just below his cheek bones. He was slender and apparently in good shape, and although he was nearly as tall as Quentin, he was not as broad. One might describe him as sinewy rather than solid. Blue eyes were overshadowed by dark brows with a straight nose underlined by a well-shaped mouth. The charming smile he bestowed upon everyone showed that his teeth were good, too.
Within the first ten minutes of being there, he had them all in stitches, laughing at his witty remarks. He had it all, which made Faith wonder why he was still a bachelor. She was missing something…
Unknown to everyone, Jasper was a little aghast to arrive and to be greeted by pandemonium. It certainly wasn’t what he had expected. He’d always considered Quentin and his life-style as staid, sedate, but this was definitely outside that realm. If he’d replied to Quentin’s call for help, it was simply because he was bored. The London season had been over for six weeks as had the lease on the house in Cork Street and his latest mistress. The return to his country seat had palled after two days, and he’d been considering a tour of Europe now that Napoleon had been packed away to St Helena. The only thing that had stopped him was the fact he was on his own. What pleasure was there in touring on one’s own? This environment, however, was going from one extreme to another — from boredom to bedlam.
Quentin’s ladylove was quite delicious. He understood better why Quentin hadn’t stayed with him in London the allotted time. It was obvious to anyone who wished to see it, that they were besotted with one another. He wondered how long that would last. Give Quentin his due though, he’d never really had a woman in his life. This one was, nevertheless, a little too ‘back to nature’ for him, although he had immediately appreciated her sense of humour. Within minutes, he’d had the occasion of crossing wits with her, and she’d had him laughing in spite of himself.
But no, if there were to be ‘dalliance’, his choice would fall, without hesitation, on the beauty standing at the top of the steps. This must be the ‘blight’ that Quentin had mentioned in his letter. Jasper loved a challenge. He could feel a thrill running through him now with the anticipation of the hunt. The best part was the chase leading up to the kill and, depending on the prey, it could take weeks. He sighed without realising it.
After the presentations had been made, Jasper found himself being ushered into the drawing room for refreshments. There, his first impression of the stately home nearly overwhelmed him.
My God, the room was a disaster! How could they bear to spend any time in such a depressing place? Even the kitchen had to be better. He just might have to have a quiet word with Faith and hope she had some appreciation of good taste. He was renowned for his.
The armchairs were comfortable as long as one kept one’s eyes shut; if not, their comfort was quickly overridden by their awful colour.
Better to feast one’s eyes on the icy beauty called Irene.
He knew the two children were hers, but he wanted to start with them to test the ground and to assert his directness.
“This is going to be a bit of trial for me Quentin,” he began. “I’m certainly not used to having little pests buzzing around me. Who has had the misfortune to beget them?”
“Not guilty,” replied Quentin with a twitch to his lips.
“Sir, do I look old enough to have had two children?” questioned Faith with a mocking scoff on her face. It was a back-handed jibe at Irene as she was, in fact, older than Irene.
They all looked at the remaining tea-drinker, who was Irene.
“I was certainly very young when I had them,” she said.
It was the only way she could decently stand her ground.
“I can quite believe it, ma’am. You hardly look more than a child yourself,” Jasper flattered.
Faith noticed a slight blush colour Irene’s cheeks. The banter continued until all the tea was gone.
Then Jasper asked if he might be shown to his room as he was sure that Biggs had already prepared a change of clothing for him.
There was a terrible ruckus in the hallway with the dog yipping and some shouting.
Irene rolled her eyes and turned her shoulder away from the door, disowning any connection to whatever was happening on the other side of it. The noise disappeared, so perhaps the children had, as well.
Quentin got up saying to Jasper he’d get Stokes to show him his room and the facilities. Stokes had just returned to the hallway, so he took Jasper up to his room next to that of his valet. He also indicated to Jasper where he could find the water closet at the end of the corridor.
The six main bedrooms were all on the first floor — three on each side of the corridor which led to the back stairway. A thick carpet assured guests that any passage in the corridor would not be heard inside their rooms. The only natural light came from each end of the corridor and the tall windows which graced the stairways.
Next to each main bedroom door was a less grand door that led to the dressing room and the valet or maid’s room — two rooms running into each other. Once inside the dressing room, it was possible to pass into the master bedroom without returning to the corridor. Of course, all the doors could be locked, if desired.
This layout suited Quentin and Faith because they had opened up the two smaller rooms to accommodate their accumulated affairs. Quentin had made it clear from the start that he wanted Faith to share his room, none of that ‘master and mistress bedrooms’ business. Faith had no trouble accommodating his wish as it had never occurred to her that husband and wives would sleep apart. She couldn’t understand why they would want to.
To placate Whittle, who had been turned out of the valet’s room, Quentin had given him his own room farther down the corridor. It simply meant that one guest room didn’t have the secondary rooms and Whittle had two rooms to himself to compensate. Quentin had only rarely had guests that stayed and then the five guest rooms had never been used at one time. In the last fifty years, the house had never had so many people living in it. Quentin actually felt a little smug with the house literally vibrating from all the activity. He’d begun to imagine how it would be the day Faith gave him a child of his own.
It seemed that everything went smoothly, and although Jasper might not have cared for the décor in his room, he was happy that it faced south and the gardens at the back. He’d noted with a wry smile that Irene’s rooms were across from his. While he was at it, he wondered vaguely if Biggs might take a fancy to her maid, Jane. Hmmm…that would be a very amusing situation.
Dinner was served at half past seven. There was nothing to criticise about the meal. It was perfect.
‘Quentin must know a thing or two about wine,’ Jasper thought as the meal came to an end. It was something he had not expected of Quentin. But then, Quentin had never been one for entertaining, so there was no way Jasper could have known. This evening, each bottle had been well chosen to accompany the dish with which it was served.
“I have to congratulate you on your cellar, Quentin. I am impressed with the wine this evening.”
“I have to admit that my ‘négociant des vins’, my wine merchant, should get the credit. I know what I like, an
d he hasn’t failed me yet.”
“Mrs. Wolfe, I understand that you have spent some time in Italy. Would you have a preference for Italian wine— or did you tire of all things Italian? I wonder as you are now returned to us,” Jasper probed audaciously.
“I’ve discovered that one tires of exotic things quicker than the ordinary ones,” Irene replied.
She would leave it at that as an explanation.
“Yes, I suppose we are ordinary. I’m afraid we Englishmen aren’t known for being exotic, although I do have my moments when I have been known to excel. I personally would recommend variety over exoticism. Mr. Cowper was known to say that ‘Variety's the very spice of life that gives it all its flavour.’ I might even have said it myself, but he said it first.” Jasper chuckled.
“I believe you’re right, my Lord. Did you hear that Quentin? We’re going to have to add some variety to our life.” Faith grinned at Quentin.
“Is this going to cost me anything?” Quentin teased.
“Come now, you have been known to contribute when it was worth it,” Faith continued in the same vein.
“Well I’m on a spice-free diet for the time being. It would have to be something quite exceptional indeed to tempt me,” Irene threw in.
She wanted to make her position quite clear.
“Well, you won’t know if you like it unless you try it. Isn’t that what all Nannies say to their charges when they’re little? I believe it’s true at all stages of life,” Jasper finished with a smile. He hadn’t appreciated his nanny all those years ago. He gave her credit now and then changed tactics.
“I wonder if I might get you to stroll along the drive with me, Mrs. Wolfe? A little fresh air is known to work wonders after a feast of this magnitude,” Jasper suggested.
“That sounds banal enough for me,” Irene replied. “I’ll just get my shawl.”
Whereupon, she left the room.
“If you don’t mind, my Lord, I shall leave you to finish your evening as you see fit. Quentin and I still have a ‘variety’ of things to do, so we’d better leave you now.”
Faith started for the doorway looking back over her shoulder at Quentin, who couldn’t stop from chuckling to himself.
“I can’t understand why you spent as much as three weeks in London, Quentin, old chap…” Jasper shook his head as his words were lost, because Quentin was already half out the door.
Whatever the spice used by Quentin and Faith, there was also a lot of sporadic laughing that did their souls good too.
Jasper was actually finding himself fascinated by Irene. He had been on the London social scene for years. He had seen women of all calibres come and go or linger if they weren’t successful, but Irene was by far the most beautiful. He also knew that she was by far the most cold and calculating. It fuelled his desire to strip her to the essentials and dominate her. But first, he needed to do a little reconnaissance work. Like Quentin, he wondered what she was doing in Marshalswick.
The stroll along the drive had been banal as Irene had suggested it would be. The drive was illuminated every fifteen feet by a pair of wrought iron lamp-posts enclosing great tallow candles behind glass panes. The candles were lit for a couple of hours each evening. They gave enough light to line the drive and make the walk pleasant.
The walk rendered no information that they didn’t already know. Irene was twenty-five and had just returned from three years in Italy. Jasper was thirty-four and a wealthy viscount with his country estate in Hertfordshire.
They were both unmarried, although Irene was a widow. Jasper knew the story.
He decided that the shortest distance between two points was a straight line. As there was no sense in taking a detour, he homed in on Irene by telling her they were both of the same species. She heard a description of herself that amazed her for its accuracy. She was speechless. It was the first time in her life that anyone had been blunt with her and called a spade a spade.
She had been brought up knowing that Society was subtle. One manoeuvred in Society, testing the ground before putting a foot down. Everyone knew that one never revealed one’s hand before knowing it was a winning one. Experience had taught her that a winning hand always consisted of a card up one’s sleeve, just in case one had miscalculated.
The one time she had misjudged, she had been young and too sure of herself to have allowed for the extra card. She’d had to act spontaneously.
Never again.
She had to admit, though, that Jasper had taken her by surprise. He was alarmingly clairvoyant, perspicacious, so she was now forced to determine what effect this might have on her. What she hadn’t realised, because she was still that much younger and less experienced that Jasper, was he had deliberately put the focus on her to better draw attention away from himself.
He could see her, even in the dim light of the drive, re-thinking her position. He could almost imagine her with a finger to her mouth as she thought. This gave him the thrill that goes with power. He also knew something that she probably didn’t know about herself. To be complete, perhaps even happy, she needed someone who was more than her match. Someone who could frighten and thrill her with their superiority. It might take her a while to realise that he knew her better than she knew herself — and that he was that someone.
As they parted company in the corridor, Jasper took her hand to kiss the back. In lifting it, his hand brushed her breast almost imperceptibly and he heard her take in her breath. He smiled to himself. He was going to enjoy his stay in spite of the pests…
-o0o-
Almost before opening his eyes, Quentin put out a hand to reach for Faith. A little voice at the end of the bed said, “Are you awake Uncle Quentin?”
He groaned as he pulled the covers up making sure that both Faith and he were decent before focussing on the wooden foot of the bed.
There they were, Christopher and Helen, smiling in his direction.
‘Lord, they must have forgotten to lock the door in their haste to strip last night. Thank goodness, the children hadn’t come in ten minutes later this morning. Who knows what they would have found?’ Quentin thought. He had been reaching for Faith when Christopher had spoken. He quelled at the thought.
“You said you would take us fishing when you woke up,” Christopher reminded him.
“You’re awake,” Christopher stated simply.
Faith began to stir, although Christopher had been speaking quietly. She realised what was happening and reached to Quentin to tickle him. Taken unawares, he roared and pulled up into ball trying to avoid her hands while staying decent in front of the children.
It was chaos.
The children climbed onto the bed and tried to tickle him too. Wizz, who had been invisible until then, jumped, also trying to get on the bed yipping excitedly. Quentin was now laughing heartily in a room full of good humour.
He grabbed Faith to stop her hands and gave her kisses all over her face. Helen wanted kisses too, but Quentin put one on her cheek and said that if they were going to go fishing, everyone had to wash, dress and have breakfast first. He sent them out of the room to find Mrs. Welby, and once the door was shut, jumped out of bed in his ‘Faith aroused state’ to lock it. Faith had only to touch his bare body and he desired her. Her admiring stare was all he needed to be encouraged and they only took ten minutes to begin their day on a climax.
“Everything is going to seem dull after that,” moaned Faith. “Fishing isn’t the most stimulating pastime…”
“Ah, but you did tell me that half your pleasure is the anticipation. Wait until tonight,” he teased.
“We do make a good family, don’t we?” Faith stated earnestly. “I just wish that Irene would leave without the children.”
“That may happen yet. I have set things into motion and it will only be a question of time before there is some real action.”
He kissed her as he left the bed.
-o0o-
The fishing outing was an experience for them
all. Faith had never been before. She was as naïve as the children. Quentin had worms and a small tin of grubs ready to take with them, and all the old tackle had been sorted through and made ready by Humphries, the gardener, who was the only one who took any interest in fishing. Quentin had last fished over ten years ago and wondered why he hadn’t bothered since, because it had always been a moment of peace for him.
They had taken a picnic with them to eat on the banks of the lake. The actual fishing didn’t last long as the worms didn’t stay on their hooks and no one wanted to touch them except Quentin. The whole episode brought them a lot of amusement and Helen finished by slipping into the shallow water.
“Well, I suppose the fish have all decided to go to the other side of the lake now that Helen has tried to sit on them. We might as well have our lunch,” Quentin was quick to suggest amidst much laughter.
Helen was dried as best as they could with napkins. As the day was warm and sunny, they didn’t worry about her, as they knew she would soon be dry. They sat in a shady spot beneath a leaning tree and enjoyed the meal that was of hard boiled eggs, cold meat, tomatoes, pickles, cheese and chutney with lots of buttered bread. A bottle of lemonade suited everyone as refreshment. Millie had put in her best seed cake for dessert so they were all very full for the trip home.
Helen went to sleep in Faith’s arms on their way in the pony trap. Christopher looked as though he was tired too; but the pleasure of being part of a family prevented him from missing anything. Sitting in the middle of the pony trap for the return, he leaned against Quentin in such an endearing fashion that Quentin took the reins in one hand and put his other arm around him.
It was Quentin who sighed. He remembered James Reed in the same situation. They must go and speak to the parish vicar about announcing the banns, because even now he wouldn’t feel completely secure until Faith married him. He looked at her looking down at Helen in her arms and she must have sensed his regard because she lifted her face towards him and whispered, “I love you.”
If it were possible, his very soul ached for her.
The Baron & the Clockmaker's Daughter Page 9