by Abbi Glines
“And why not?” Emma asked with indignation.
Alice gave her a tug and led her toward the door. “I will not discuss this further, Lady Emma. It is well past time for your breakfast. Come now,” she ordered as they left through the back door.
Once she was gone, there was an audible sigh amongst the kitchen staff. They all began cleaning up the feathers and other forms of chaos the chicken and Emma left in their wake. I turned and left the room, unsure what I would say to my guests upon my return. Had they heard any of that? The kitchen’s location was far enough that much of it should have been muffled, but the loud squeals had surely carried down the hallway.
Bringing Emma had been asking for such as this but leaving her in London was too much of a risk. I had much rather deal with this sort of situation than chance Nicholas finding out about her existence. Protecting Emma was my priority as was finding her a suitable mother.
Laughter rang out from the dining room as I drew closer and I stopped just shy of the entrance to listen to Miriam telling her aunt and uncle about the time she had first tried to cook breakfast for her family.
“I was washing flour out of my hair for weeks,” Miriam finished and her audience chuckled.
“But how did the biscuits taste?” her aunt asked.
“I do believe mother broke a tooth on one,” Miriam informed her with glee.
“Oh dear,” her aunt laughed.
“Yes, twas quite a learning experience for me. I appreciate a good soft biscuit ever so much these days,” Miriam quipped.
I found myself smiling at the easy banter and familiarity Miriam shared with her aunt and uncle. There was no stiff formality or hushed whispers about the ruckus they had obviously heard when I had rushed out. They took it in stride and carried on with their breakfast. Miriam Bathurst may not be what one would consider the perfect countess, but she may indeed be my perfect countess. Emma needed someone who wouldn’t feel faint after an event like the one I just dealt with.
I turned the corner and entered the room. Miriam was sipping her cup of hot chocolate and her eyes seemed to brighten when she spotted me. That was a nice reaction a man could get used to. “Lord Ashington, you just missed the tale of my unique culinary achievements,” she informed me, causing her aunt to giggle once more.
“Perhaps you can share them with me another time then. I was unaware of your abilities in the kitchen,” I replied, taking my seat.
Her aunt laughed loudly this time and I couldn’t help but smile at the boisterous sound.
“Please, my lord, do not get your hopes up. I fear you will be greatly disappointed,” Lady Wellington said with a grin.
“Unless of course you have a tooth that needs extracting,” Lord Wellington added and the three of them burst into fits of laughter. This house had heard very little laughter and it was as if the walls wanted to soak it in or perhaps that was just me.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Miriam Bathurst
The peacefulness of the countryside was like a long-lost friend. I gazed admiringly outside the window of Whitney’s room while she ate her breakfast. Soon, we would go out and enjoy the warmth of the sun.
Whitney had slept much later than the rest of us and missed breakfast in the dining room. Ashington had asked me what to have sent to her room for her and in doing so earned even more of my gratitude. I knew she would be disappointed she had missed the lively breakfast, but I would be sure to give her every detail when she was ready.
I heard her yawn behind me and turned to see her cover her small mouth with a dainty hand. “Did you not sleep well?” I asked her, concerned for her obvious fatigue.
“I slept fine. I believe I may have slept too much,” she replied with a smile. “This bed is much too comfortable and it pulled me into the deepest of sleeps.”
The much too pale pallor of her skin and the dark circles under her eyes told a different story than what she had claimed. Whitney never wanted to worry me, yet I could see she wasn’t feeling well. The travel had been too much on her.
I moved my attention to the food that had been brought up for her. She had eaten a biscuit and some ham. Whitney had never been much of an eater, but she needed proper nourishment after such an arduous journey. I wanted her to have energy to enjoy our time here.
“Tell me what you meant by a lively meal indeed,” Whitney urged as she picked up a berry from her plate.
I shared everything with Whitney, taking great care to be very detailed in hopes she would eat more of the food on her plate. Instead, she had finished her berry and then leaned back on the pillows of her bed as if the task of eating required more rest. My concern for her was mounting, and I had convinced myself to speak to Ashington about seeking a doctor once I left this room.
Once I finished telling her of our morning, she yawned again and settled deeper into her pillows. “Oh, I do hate I missed that. I shall be on time tomorrow, but you must promise it will be just as entertaining.” Her smile wasn’t forced, but it was tired.
Standing, I walked over and pulled the covers over her gently. “The travel has exhausted you and rest is the only cure. We shall frolic in the garden later today when you are well and good. Right now, you need to take care.” I said all of this in my stern voice that left no room for argument. It was a habit with Whitney since oft times she could be stubborn.
“I believe you’re right. Just a bit more rest would do me well,” she agreed, only alarming me further. I had used my stern voice to keep her from disagreeing with me, yet her lack of argument did not sit well with me. For Whitney to want to stay in bed, it meant she did not feel well at all.
Kissing her on the head, I gave her one last glance to see she had already closed her eyes. As quietly as I could, I left her room in search of Ashington. Since I was on a mission, my focus was more clear and finding Ashington’s office was easier than the idea of finding the dining room this morning had felt.
It had only taken me three wrong doors before I opened the correct one. However, Ashington had not been in there. The office had been quite empty. Frustrated, I closed the door back the way it had been and went off in search of someone who might know of his whereabouts.
The butler was walking from the kitchen toward the entry way when I came down the stairway. I couldn’t recall his name and I felt ashamed, but my mind was preoccupied with other issues at the moment. “Excuse me, sir,” I called out before I reached the bottom step.
He halted and turned to face me. “Miss Bathurst. How may I be of service?” he asked.
“I need to find Lord Ashington. Tis my sister. She isn’t feeling well. I wouldn’t bother him otherwise you see but…”
The butler gave a singular nod. “Lord Ashington is on his morning ride. You may find him in the stables shortly.”
“Thank you,” I blurted in haste then made my way toward the front doors, but not before the butler could appear beside me and open them for me. Turning back to him, I smiled. “I didn’t get your name or I fear I do not recall it,” I admitted to him.
He was much younger than most butlers, but his stiff back and regal demeanor was that of the finest English butlers. “Earlwin, Miss Bathurst,” he replied.
“Thank you, Earlwin, for your assistance. It is much appreciated,” I replied then picked up my skirts in a fashion I knew my mother would scold me for and hurried down the steps and out across the manicured lawn toward the stables.
Although my long strides had quickened my arrival at the stables, it was of no use, for Ashington was not back yet from his ride. A stable boy walked by carrying feed and I decided then I would find out in what direction he had gone and begin making my way toward him.
“Do you know where Lord Ashington takes his morning rides?” I asked the boy.
He nodded and pointed out toward the back of the house toward the woods behind it, yet he said nothing.
“He took his horse in that direction?” I asked incredulously. That didn’t seem safe for man or horse. Was there e
ven a path?
The boy waved his hand again with his finger, pointing in the same direction. This time he used more flair as if trying to speak louder but remained silent.
“Is there a path I don’t see?” I asked him, wishing he would speak.
The boy nodded then walked away with the feed, never once uttering a word.
Hoping he was correct, I picked up my skirts again and headed back toward what looked like a forest from here. I couldn’t imagine Lord Ashington would go riding out into a dense forest when he had all this lovely land to enjoy. The closer I got to the wooded area, I realized that there was, in fact, a very wide path that had been hidden by the sun’s shadows. Perhaps the path led to a beautiful stream or open field of daises.
There must be a reason Ashington would take the path as there must also be a reason for the path’s existence. I began walking through the forest and the deeper I went, the more magical it became. The trees leaned toward each other at their tops, as if reaching to embrace a loved one. Birds flitted from branches as the sunlight that broke through made the path appear as if it were meant for fairies instead of humans.
It was a perfectly carved out trail by nature itself and I was so lost in the beauty and magnificence around me I missed the light at the end until I was almost upon it. A voice stopped me and I paused to listen. Perhaps I had come upon someone else’s estate. I wasn’t sure where I had been going, only that the boy had said Lord Ashington had went this way.
“Make another, Ashington!” A young voice pleaded.
“Why do you need another? That crown fits quite well. You look as if you are the queen of fairies,” Lord Ashington replied.
“Tis not for me! I need one for Alice. If I am to be queen of fairies then she must be my princess. If she is the princess and I am the queen, I shall not take a nap today but dance among the flowers and eat jam all I want,” the young girl said.
I couldn’t see either of them and I feared if I made a move, they would hear me. Who was the child Ashington was talking to? Was it a neighbor’s child? A relative?
Ashington laughed as if he were truly delighted. “I do not believe Alice will agree to such terms,” he replied. “However, if you are very good, I will make sure jam is delivered with your biscuits at tea today.”
He was sending them food? I wanted to move closer so I could see them but stayed in place. My curiosity was battling my good sense.
“Will you come have tea with us?” she asked with a hopeful tone.
“I’m afraid I cannot today. I must entertain my company,” he replied.
A loud sigh came from the girl. “I wish to meet your company.”
“I believe you shall soon,” he told her.
“Truly! You said you had to be sure.”
There was a pause and I wondered if he had noticed me or if I was breathing too heavily. I hated not being able to see them through the shrubbery.
“I am almost sure that you will meet this one,” he said to her.
The child clapped her hands together and squealed in delight. “And truly she looks like a princess?”
“I would say any princess would pale in comparison to Miss Bathurst’s beauty,” he replied.
I took a step back then. So many questions swirling in my head that I couldn’t pick a singular one to ponder. How did one ponder any of this? Slowly, I eased away until I could safely walk back in the direction in which I had come.
Such familiarity… it seemed odd for Lord Ashington to speak that way to a mere neighbor’s child or even a distant relative.
The tone of their voices, the trust in the girl’s voice was clear, the affection in Lord Ashington’s was equally so. My head spun even more as I waked quickly back to the house, no longer taken with the splendor of nature that surrounded me. For there was one explanation to what I had just overheard, yet how could that be? Lord Ashington would not be able to keep such a secret… or could he? Did he wield that much power?
I didn’t stop moving until I was in the room given to me and I closed the door firmly behind me. Then I stood there and let the most obvious explanation play out in my head.
Lord Ashington had a child and a mistress. He was indeed searching for a wife to cover that up. I sank down on the settee and stared blankly at the wall in front of me. He had brought me here as if to interview my family. This was not to court me because he wasn’t looking for a love match. He was looking for a position to fill. He needed a countess that would accept his child and his lover.
To be fair, I had not come to London in search of a love match. Not at all. He knew of this too because I had been rather clear on the subject, had I not? Lord Ashington was aware that I was in need of a wealthy husband to provide for my sister and my mother. I needed someone that could afford the medical procedures Whitney required and he needed a wife willing to look the other way. He must think he had found the perfect prospect in me. How could he not? I wasn’t a silly debutante full of silly hopes to be a countess. Rank meant little to me. He had realized this and he had pounced on it.
My chest stung and I felt a heaviness in my stomach. I had allowed myself to like Lord Ashington. Possibly care for him and believe there might be something for us in the future. He had charmed me and I had been his fool. For a moment, he had me believe that I might have something akin to what my aunt and uncle have. It had been foolish of me to believe it possible. Especially with a man as powerful as Lord Ashington.
This wasn’t heartbreak, for I wasn’t silly enough to fancy myself in love. It was simply, yet again, the realization I was never someone’s choice for the reasons I wanted to be. Nicholas only needed me if I were a pawn to hurt his brother. Lord Ashington only wanted me if I were the perfect wife who turned my head to his secret family. My mother only wanted me because I was her only hope for financial security. Then, of course, I had never been wanted by my father. He hadn’t found use in my existence at all. I shut out memories of him quickly. Dwelling on my father’s lack of love was pointless.
Reaching up, I wiped the tears that had decided to roll down my cheeks, be as unwanted as they were. I would not let this get to me. I had been blinded by all the flash that came with Lord Ashington and missed the other signs. I had allowed myself to trust and I hadn’t even realized it. My guard had slipped so easily. That would not happen again. I was sure of it. I was smarter now and I had learned a lesson.
The fact remained, I needed to marry well for my family’s sake and I would do so, but I wasn’t sure I could accept a secret family. Lord Ashington clearly loved the child and I respected that. He hadn’t ignored his daughter, if that was indeed who she was, and he took care of her. I assumed he equally took care of her mother as well.
I knew my aunt and uncle shared a connection most in London society did not. They truly loved one another. My uncle didn’t keep a mistress. Did I have the luxury of waiting until I found a man that would love me and need only me? I thought of Whitney lying in her bedroom and the pain one day’s travel caused her. I knew that each day that passed made the hopes of the procedure restoring her leg completely, more slim.
What would I be willing to accept for the sake of her future?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Emma Marie Compton- age four and five months
Glancing back toward the bedroom, I checked one more time to see if Alice was well and truly asleep. Lying still with my eyes closed had been ever so difficult, but Alice had needed a good nap it seemed. She hadn’t made me wait too long before she began to snore.
The door was quiet as I opened and closed it behind me then stood there holding my breath, almost positive she would sit right up and realize I had escaped. I had good reason for this journey. It was important that I meet Miriam Bathurst. Ashington had said she looked more lovely than a princess and I had never seen a lady that beautiful. What if he forgot to introduce me and I didn’t get the chance?
I hurried down the cobblestone walkway toward the path through the woods I had taken with Alice
yesterday morning. Today Alice had refused to take me back to the kitchen. She didn’t trust me after I had freed the chicken, but the chicken had wanted to be free. I had only been helping a would-be friend. I was sure the chicken hated me after the way they had treated it. Poor chicken.
I had been very lucky indeed that jam had been sent this morning with breakfast. I was sure Ashington had sent it and I told Alice so when she threatened not to let me have some until tea. The jam here at Chatwick Hall was sweeter than that we had in London. I should ask Ashington to take it back with us. I missed being here. Our home in London didn’t have the fairy forest or rose gardens such as these. Alice promised to take me for a walk in the fairy forest today. If she woke and I was still gone that wouldn’t happen. I would also not be given jam with my afternoon tea.
I paused then, wondering if meeting Miriam Bathurst was indeed worth no jam or fairy forest. I did so miss the fairy forest. Glancing back at the cottage, I frowned. Alice would be very disappointed in me. She oft was and I didn’t mind, but I truly wanted to go on that hike today. But I did want the jam.
I turned my head and looked toward Chatwick Hall again. If I was spotted by any of the servants, they’d take me right back to Alice. My chances of getting to the house without being seen were not that good. With a sigh, I forced my feet to turn back toward the cottage. If I hurried, I’d be back before Alice knew I was ever gone.
“Hello,” a voice so soft and pretty came from behind me. Had I come upon a fairy? Spinning back around, I didn’t see a fairy at all. She was much too tall to be a fairy, but she could indeed be a princess.
“Hello,” I replied. “Are you Miriam Bathurst?” I was almost positive she was.
The lady nodded and the sunlight made her dark red hair sparkle like that of a fairy. “I am and you are?” she asked.
Straightening my shoulders the way Alice always reminded me, I stood tall and held my head high. “I am Emma Marie Compton. Lady of the manor,” I told her.