* * *
Russ had been surprised when Gerald informed him that he had paid most of his staff to go away for a while, but he had no objection to living frugally for a few weeks. Indeed, it suited his mood very well and since Gerald refused to quit Newlands, a period of self-denial where he might feel sorry for himself was just what he wanted.
‘It will not be so bad,’ Gerald had told him. ‘Remember when we first arrived in London and had only one manservant between us? The stables are still fully staffed, so what with riding, hunting and shooting, we shall be out of doors every day. And for the rest, your man and mine are both capable of turning out a good meal. Besides, there are some servants left below stairs. No, my friend, we shall go on very well.’
And so it seemed. They sat very comfortably in the kitchen in the evenings, drinking wine while the two valets cooked, and when they met the squire out shooting and invited him to take pot luck with them, they sat down to succulent beefsteaks with oyster sauce. Even Sir William had confessed it was very pleasant to be able to relax in one’s stockinged feet occasionally.
The good weather held into their second week, allowing Russ and Gerald to ride out regularly, but no matter how hard he rode or how tired he might be, Russ was aware of a simmering disquiet and a wish to see Molly Morgan. She was on his mind constantly, and when, late one afternoon, he and Gerald returned from a long day’s riding and they glimpsed a figure moving past the drawing-room window, his pulse leapt.
‘Now, who the devil can that be?’ muttered Gerald.
With no women servants in the house it must be a visitor and Russ thought, hoped, it might be Molly. He quickened his stride, preceding Gerald indoors and making his way directly to the drawing room. He threw open the door, but it was not Molly standing before the fire in the sprigged muslin gown. This visitor was much younger than Molly, and instead of a mass of unruly dark locks, she had honey-gold curls that cascaded down from a topknot and framed a lively countenance enhanced by a pair of mischievous brown eyes.
‘So you are back at last,’ she said in her pretty, musical voice. ‘I thought you would never come!’
Russ heard the door close behind him and found Gerald standing at his side, an enquiring lift to his brows.
‘Gerald’ he said, fighting to keep his voice level, ‘let me introduce you to Miss Serena Russington. My half-sister.’
She clutched her hands before her and fixed those large, imploring eyes upon her host. ‘I hope you do not mind my calling unannounced, Sir Gerald, but I had no choice. I am quite, quite desperate!’
‘Are you, by Jove?’ Gerald looked at Russ. ‘Perhaps I should leave you two alone.’
‘No, no need for that,’ said Russ, keeping his eyes on Serena. ‘Perhaps, my girl, you will tell us just why you are here and where is your chaperon? And your carriage? I did not see one in the stables.’
‘I am alone and I took the mail to Compton Magna and then a very kind farmer took me up and dropped me at your gates.’ She drew a breath. ‘I have run away.’
For the first time Russ became aware of the two bandboxes beside the sofa.
‘The devil you have!’ Before he could say more, Gerald announced that such a situation required some refreshment and he lounged out of the room. Russ looked at his half-sister with brooding suspicion. ‘Do you mean to tell me you have travelled the length of England to reach me?’
‘No, no, of course not.’ She sank down into a chair. ‘I left the Tonbridge seminary two months ago, because they said I was unteachable.’ She threw him a look of mild reproach. ‘You are joint trustee for my affairs, Russ, so Henry must have written and told you of it all.’
‘Perhaps his letter went astray,’ he suggested, cravenly putting the blame for his ignorance upon his brother.
‘Fustian. You ignore him, as I do, as much as I can,’ she replied frankly. ‘Well, Henry collected me from Tonbridge and took me directly to Mrs Wetherby’s academy, which is near Harrogate. And I have tried to be good and to settle in, Russ, but it is impossible. They are so very severe.’
‘Possibly that is why my brother chose it.’
‘That and the fact that it is so far north he knew it would be impossible for me to get home. It is like a convent, Russ. Everyone is so serious and the teachers are so strict with me, I am not enjoying it one little bit. They will not allow us to go out of the building unattended.’
‘Clearly you have managed it, however.’
Her eyes twinkled. ‘I knotted the bedsheets and climbed out the window at midnight! I had to get away, Russ. I am nearly seventeen and far too old for school now. I promise you, I was at my wits’ end to know what to do. Then I saw the report in the society pages of the local paper, saying that Sir Gerald had purchased Newlands and was in residence there with a party of friends, including—now, how had they worded it?—several prominent bachelors! Well, knowing you are Sir Gerald’s best friend and the most prominent bachelor in London, I guessed you would be here, so I caught the night mail, determined to throw myself on your mercy.’ She smiled, but then gave a sigh. ‘I did write to Henry and suggest I might live at home with him and Dorothea until I am presented, but his reply said that was not possible. It is Dorothea’s doing, of course. She does not want me to live with the family.’
Russ thought this very likely. The last time he had seen his two nieces, they were promising to take after their mother—short, plump and affected. There was no doubt they would be very much cast into the shade by Serena with her glowing vivacity.
‘What do you expect me to do about it?’ he asked at last.
‘Since you are also my guardian, you can write to the school and tell them I am not coming back. Then, I thought, perhaps, you might talk to Henry, explain how desperately unhappy I was. Perhaps he could find some lady for me to live with until my come out. I shall be very good, I promise you, if only I am not confined in a school with lots of silly, giggling girls.’
He laughed at that. ‘I wish I might believe you, Serena.’
Gerald returned, carrying a tray full of decanters and glasses and, with his half-sister’s permission, Russ explained the situation to him.
‘I will write to Henry about it, I give you my word, Serena,’ he concluded. ‘But for now I see no option other than you to return to the school.’
She turned her soulful gaze upon Gerald as he handed her a very small glass of ratafia.
‘You would not force me to go back to such a place, would you, Sir Gerald?’
‘Well—’ he glanced at Russ ‘—it might be necessary for you to return. Just for a short time, until other arrangements can be made.’
‘May I not stay here?’
‘Impossible,’ said Russ immediately. ‘It would be most improper. There are no other females in the house.’
‘But you are my brother.’
‘Half-brother,’ he corrected her. ‘And my reputation would do nothing to improve the situation!’
The dark eyes widened. ‘Then what shall do? I made sure you would not turn me away, and it is almost night.’ She heaved a sigh. ‘P-perhaps you will escort me to the local inn.’
‘Can’t do that,’ said Gerald, shaking his head. ‘Tomorrow is market day. All the local hostelries will be as full as they can hold. And not with the sort of people one would want mixing with one’s sister.’
‘That’s true.’ Russ pushed his fingers through his hair. ‘I will have to take you back to Compton Magna. We should be able to find accommodation for you at the White Hart, and I will pay for a chambermaid to sleep in your room tonight.’
‘But that is a good ten miles away,’ cried Serena. ‘You would not abandon me there, would you?’
‘Of course not. I shall remain there, too.’
Serena gave a small sniff and he ground his teeth.
‘What else do you expect me to do with you? I am aware it is no
t ideal, but it is the best I can think of, so late in the day.’
Sir Gerald cleared his throat. ‘I think I know someone who might help.’ He glanced at Russ. ‘I am sure the vicar and his sister would take Miss Russington in for the night.’
Serena wrinkled her nose. ‘That sounds very dull, but I suppose for one night it would do no harm.’
Russ wanted to say no. He did not want to go cap in hand to Molly and ask for her help.
‘Frayne would never turn away anyone in need,’ Gerald went on. ‘But if you are going, Russ, I should send for the gig now. Any later and they will be sitting down to dinner.’
* * *
Whatever Molly had been expecting, it was not this. Russ was in the drawing room, standing before the empty fireplace, and hanging on his arm was the most ravishing young lady she had ever seen. A searing pain, almost physical, ran through Molly, but before she could fully recognise it, her emotions were thrown into further turmoil when Edwin introduced the beauty as Russ’s half-sister.
‘Miss Russington arrived at Newlands, fully expecting Agnes to be there to receive her,’ he explained.
Molly regarded the visitors in uncomprehending silence for some time after Edwin had finished. Russ cleared his throat.
‘I understand what an imposition it is, Mrs Morgan, and if there was any other solution, I assure you I would not ask this of you.’
Molly’s confusion was lifting. She knew full well that if there had been any choice, Russ would not have come here, but she could not deny that his sister’s plight tugged at her heart. Whatever her differences with Beau Russington, his sister was not responsible and must be put at ease. She summoned all her inner strength to focus on her role as the vicar’s sister.
‘Oh, dear, how very unfortunate for you.’ She smiled warmly at Serena. ‘I assure you it is no trouble at all to have you stay here. If Edwin has not given instructions for the guest room to be prepared, then I shall do that immediately. And perhaps you would like to come up to my room? You may take off your pelisse and bonnet and we may both tidy ourselves before dinner.’ She directed her polite society smile towards Russ. ‘I hope you mean to stay and dine with us, too, Mr Russington?’
‘If I may, yes. Thank you.’
Was it a trick of the candlelight, or did some of the darkness leave his eyes?
‘Capital!’ Edwin cast his beaming smile over them all and rubbed his hands together. ‘Very well then, Molly, if you would like to take our guest upstairs, I will find a bottle of claret for Russ and I to enjoy while we wait for you!’
* * *
Serena was chattering away quite happily by the time they reached Molly’s bedchamber. She had decided they must be on first-name terms and she lost no time telling Molly about her flight from the school. Molly did not comment, but she could quite understand that a strict regime would be very galling to such a lively girl on the verge of womanhood.
‘It is very good of you to take me in,’ said Serena, throwing her powder-blue pelisse and matching bonnet carelessly over a chair. ‘Russ was quite at a loss to know what to do with me.’
‘I am sure he was,’ Molly murmured. ‘But you say he plans to drive you back to Harrogate in the morning. Will you not be tempted to run away again?’
‘Oh, I am sure I shall, but he has promised me he will write to Henry—Lord Hambridge, our older brother,’ she explained, seeing Molly’s puzzled frown. ‘It is Henry and his wife, Dorothea, who have had the ordering of my education. Russ has never bothered himself with me, but he is also my guardian, and I think it is time he stirred himself to do something, do not you?’
‘Are you an orphan, then?’ asked Molly, ignoring the question.
‘Not exactly. Mama left when I was eight years old.’
‘Oh, you poor child!’
Serena gave a little shrug. ‘I barely knew her, so it made little difference. She only married Papa for his money. He quite doted on her, I believe, and was forever buying her presents. When Papa died, poor Henry found his inheritance sadly depleted. Mama ran off and married a rich Italian count almost as soon as she was widowed, so it is very likely that they were already lovers, do you not think?’
Molly was shocked at this matter-of-fact recital of Serena’s history, but her murmurs of sympathy were waved aside.
‘I am not supposed to know any of this, but between the servants’ gossip, what Henry could be persuaded to tell me and the reports in the scandal sheets, I was able to discover almost everything.’ She accepted Molly’s invitation to sit down at the dressing table and brush her curls, but the revelations were clearly uppermost in her mind for she said as she stared at her reflection, ‘Mama was very beautiful and I am said to be her image. I suppose that is why Russ was so reluctant to allow me to stay at Newlands tonight. He told me it was because his reputation is so bad, but I think he is afraid for my reputation. He thinks people will say I am too much like my mother.’
Molly was silent, imagining the hurt the children must have felt, to be abandoned whilst still grieving for their father. Serena reached out and caught her hands.
‘Now I have made you unhappy,’ she said. ‘Please do not be sad for me, Molly. I do not feel it now, I assure you. And I am very glad that Russ brought me here, because I think we are going to be very good friends!’
Privately Molly thought that one would always feel such a loss, but she merely smiled and said that as soon as she had changed her gown they would go down and join the gentlemen.
‘May I help you?’ offered Serena. ‘It will save you waiting for your maid and I am in the habit of helping the other girls at the academy to dress.’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘It is one of the better rules of the establishment, that no matter how wealthy the family, ladies should always know how to help themselves!’
Molly accepted this gesture of friendship. She was herself naturally reserved and since moving to Compton Parva had made no close friends, so it felt a little odd to have a young and lively companion in her room. Odd but not unpleasant, she thought, smiling to herself.
‘Now, what are you going to wear?’ Serena threw open the doors of the linen press.
Molly stepped up beside her and looked at gowns neatly piled on the shelves. For the first time she noticed how dreary they looked, dominated by shades of black, grey and lavender.
‘My dear Molly, I thought you had been a widow for years.’
‘Six years, to be precise.’
‘And you are still wearing these dull colours?’ Serena regarded her in wide-eyed awe. ‘You must have loved your husband very much.’
‘I have some colours,’ said Molly, ignoring her remark. ‘Look on the top shelf. There is my yellow dimity and a sage-green muslin.’
Serena’s snort in response was derisory. ‘The dimity is too faded to be of any use and even the muslin is almost grey—I have no doubt you look positively haggard in it! Do you have nothing else?’
‘No. That is, there are a few gowns in the bottom drawer of the chest, but I have not worn them since...’ Her voice faded.
Since my wedding.
Serena was already opening the drawer and pulling out gowns that had not seen the light of day since Molly had put them in there when she moved in, five years ago. Three colourful silk gowns purchased as bride clothes and rarely worn. Molly watched Serena spreading the gowns over the bed and she waited for the painful memories to flood in, but there was nothing more than a little sadness, which was soon dispelled by Serena’s unflagging cheerfulness. Serena lifted an apricot silk and declared that was what Molly should wear to dinner.
‘It is not in the latest style, but no one will care for that,’ said Serena, shaking out the gown and holding it up against Molly. ‘It compliments your colouring perfectly.’
Molly laughed, suddenly feeling much more frivolous and carefree. ‘Very well, just for you I shall wear it! And perhaps my cor
al beads instead of the pearls.’
‘Perfect,’ Serena declared. ‘After all, this is an informal dinner for friends and there are only the four of us. Now, if you will tell me where you keep the coral beads, I shall fetch them for you.’
Molly was throwing the apricot gown over her head as she answered, ‘In the box that sits in the top drawer.’
Too late did she remember what else was in that drawer. She flew across, just as Serena was lifting out a man’s handkerchief, laundered and pressed with the embroidered monogram clearly displayed.
‘Yes, the box is there, in the corner,’ she said, whipping the handkerchief from Serena’s hand. ‘Do not bother about this. It...it is an old kerchief of my brother’s that I keep forgetting to give back to him.’ With a laugh she buried it deep beneath the combs, pouches and other mementos and shut the drawer. Nothing more was said and Molly could only hope Serena had not recognised that it was Russ’s initials embroidered on the linen square and not Edwin’s.
* * *
Having assured Edwin that there was no need to send a note to Newlands, that Gerald would not be expecting him to return until after dinner, Russ settled down with his host to await the ladies. The wine was very good and the vicar cheerful company, but he could not be at ease until he saw Molly again. True, she had issued the invitation for him to stay for dinner, but after their last meeting was she really prepared to sit down at table with him? After what had been said—after what he had said to her—how could they converse naturally? He shifted in his chair. Confound it, there was something about the woman that brought out the worst in him!
‘I am sure they will not be much longer,’ said Edwin, mistaking his sudden frown for impatience. ‘I have no doubt that they are chattering away and have forgotten the time. But I am glad of it,’ he continued, refilling their glasses. ‘Molly takes life far too seriously. She was such a lively child. Fearless, headstrong, even, but she married very young, you see.’
He broke off, his cheerful countenance momentarily shadowed, but his smile returned as the door opened and the ladies came in, arm in arm.
The Ton's Most Notorious Rake Page 15