His Countess for a Week

by Sarah Mallory

  ‘No, damn you! I am not dressed for the part yet and want to enjoy my anonymity for a little longer.’ He hesitated. ‘You realise, old friend, our lives are going to be very different from now on. There are estates to be managed, staff and tenants to be considered.’

  ‘Aye, sir, but it’s nothing we can’t handle. Now, you sit down while I go and chase up this rascally landlord!’

  Chapter Two

  Randolph spent the day going over the paperwork Chislett had left him, putting it away only when it was time to change for dinner. He went off to dine with Lord and Lady Gilmorton at the King’s Arms, the hostelry that was enjoying their patronage.

  Apart from the lawyer, whom he had sworn to secrecy, Ran had told only his sister, Deborah, and her husband that he was bound for England, and he was not surprised to receive a message that they planned to meet him at Portsmouth. He was delighted they should come so far, but slightly apprehensive, too, and he could not help putting a hand up to his neckcloth before he entered the inn.

  As the tap boy showed him into the private parlour, Ran looked over the man’s shoulder to catch his first glimpse of his sister in six years. His heart swelled. He would have known her anywhere, neat as a pin in her Pomona-green gown and her brown hair swept up.

  ‘Deborah.’

  She barely waited for the servant to close the door before she flew across the room, her green eyes over-bright with tears.

  ‘Oh, Ran, Ran. Is it really you?’

  He caught her to him, laughing. ‘Well, I hope you wouldn’t throw yourself like this at a stranger!’ Keeping his arms tightly about her, he nodded to his brother-in-law. ‘How are you, Gilmorton?’

  The Viscount came forward to meet him, a smile lightening his rather serious countenance, made all the more sombre by the scar running down his left cheek.

  ‘Very well, Randolph, thank you. If you put my wife down, I will shake hands with you!’

  The tension melted away. Between laughter and tears he was dragged to the settle close to the fire while Deborah bombarded him with questions.

  ‘My love, give the poor fellow a chance to catch his breath,’ murmured Gil. He added, with a glint of humour, ‘She has been in alt ever since you wrote to say you were coming home.’

  ‘Then I pity you,’ replied Ran, dodging a playful blow from his sister.

  ‘Your letters were always so cheerful,’ she said now, clinging still to his hand and her eyes searching his face. ‘And you are well, now. Really well?’

  He squeezed her hand, knowing what was behind the question.

  ‘Yes, truly. I avoid laudanum, never drink spirits and partake sparingly of wine. I have never felt better.’

  Her eyes misted. ‘Then you were telling the truth in your letters, when you said transportation saved your life.’

  ‘Aye. I believe it did.’

  He had told them nothing of the arduous months he’d spent aboard the transport ship to Sydney Cove. All the prisoners suffered from the harsh conditions, the sickness and deprivation, but he had also had to endure the unbearable craving for laudanum. There had been periods of delirium, even longer stretches of dark despair. He knew he was lucky to be alive and how much he owed to his valet. It had been Joseph’s diligent care that had saved him. His valet had given up his freedom to accompany him and it was a debt Ran could never repay.

  ‘Is Miller still with you?’ asked Gil, as if reading his thoughts.

  ‘Aye. I suggested he might remain and run the farm for me, but he preferred to come back. Mayhap he thought I would be as ill on this journey as the first time, but apart from a few days of seasickness at the start, the voyage was uneventful. Even enjoyable.’

  ‘So Joseph Miller has returned with you,’ murmured Deborah, her eyes twinkling with mischief. ‘My maid, Elsie, will be pleased to hear that.’

  ‘Do not tell me she has been pining for him all these years!’ exclaimed Ran, alarmed.

  Deborah laughed. ‘No, no, of course not. But they were very friendly, at one time, and I did wonder—’

  ‘My wife is an inveterate matchmaker,’ the Viscount interrupted her, shaking his head. ‘Let it be, Deb. Give your brother and his man time to settle into their new life!’

  * * *

  Dinner was brought in and they moved to the dining table, where the talk continued, Ran describing his life in Airds, where he had been granted land following his pardon. He made light of the hardships leading up to that time, knowing that as an educated man he had received far better treatment than many of his fellow prisoners.

  ‘And what are your plans now?’ asked Deb.

  ‘He is going to transform himself into an earl,’ put in Gil. ‘Why else did he send us his measurements and ask that we have some fashionable clothes made up?’

  Ran laughed. ‘That was Joseph’s idea. He knows I own nothing suitable.’

  ‘No, I regret I must agree,’ drawled his brother-in-law, casting an eye over him. ‘In that coat you would at best pass for a gentleman farmer. Thankfully, we have fulfilled your commission and you may carry away the trunk with you when you leave us tonight. Next time we meet I hope I shall not be ashamed to own you as my brother.’

  ‘Mighty good of you!’ retorted Ran, grinning.

  ‘But where will you go?’ asked Deb. ‘Why not come back with us to Gilmorton? Little James and Randolph would like to meet their uncle, I am sure, and you might remain with us for the winter.’

  ‘Aye, but do not come merely for your nephews’ sake,’ added her husband. ‘We’d be delighted to have you stay. For as long as you wish.’

  ‘Thank you, but that must wait, I am afraid. I have estates of my own that I need to visit first.’

  ‘Ah, yes. You are a wealthy man now, Ran.’ Gil sat back, cradling his glass between his hands. ‘A fortune and a title—you have become something of a catch!’

  ‘Gil!’ Deb gasped, half-laughing, half-outraged. ‘And you said I was a matchmaker!’

  The Viscount raised his brows at her.

  ‘What have I said that is not true? The society pages may be agog with the fact that the new Lord Westray is a pardoned felon, but let me tell you, Ran, it does not diminish your attraction with scheming mothers one jot!’

  ‘We do not know...’ Deborah glanced shyly at her brother. ‘Perhaps there is a lady, back in Australia.’

  Ran shook his head. ‘There was little opportunity to meet ladies in Sydney Cove, or Airds. Besides, I was too busy making a life for myself. Now, I suppose, I must consider the idea of marriage.’

  ‘By heaven, Ran, you are taking your duties seriously indeed!’ exclaimed the Viscount.

  ‘There is the succession to be considered.’ He shrugged. ‘It should not be difficult. There must be any number of eligible ladies who would suit. I am not that particular. I only need someone who will make me a comfortable wife.’

  Gil snorted. ‘There is nothing comfortable about falling in love, my friend. It can be joyous, but it is also painful.’ He grinned at his wife. ‘Believe me, it is anything but comfortable.’

  ‘Then I shall not fall in love,’ said Ran simply. ‘I am too old for that nonsense.’

  ‘At eight-and-twenty?’ Deborah gave a little trill of laughter. ‘You are perfectly poised to make a great fool of yourself over a woman!’

  Ran was unoffended. ‘Perhaps, but I doubt I shall have much time for that sort of thing for a while, at least. I have told Chislett he may now write to the steward at the Earl’s—that is, at my principal seat, Westray Priors in Oxfordshire, telling him I am in England and that I intend to travel there in a few weeks. However, from the papers Chislett left with me yesterday, I realise there is a small property in Devon, Beaumount Hall. It is near Tavistock, I understand. It seems a pity not to see it, since I am so close.’

  ‘Close!’ Gil frowned. ‘Why, that must be all of a hundred
and fifty miles from here and I wager the roads will be shocking.’

  ‘But I am not going by road,’ Ran replied. ‘I have my sea legs now, you know.’ He grinned. ‘Joseph and I have booked a passage with a local vessel sailing to Plymouth on the morning tide!’

  * * *

  The weather proved fair for Randolph and Joseph’s journey to Plymouth, where they hired a coach to take them to Beaumount Hall. Ran looked about him with interest.

  ‘I had forgotten how it is here in autumn,’ he murmured, ‘the blaze of colour before the trees lose their leaves in winter. And it is greener, too.’

  A contentment settled over him. A feeling that he had come home.

  * * *

  As the Viscount had predicted, away from the towns the roads were not good and they were relieved when, after an hour’s bumpy travel, the carriage turned to pass between open gates and into a small park.

  ‘The drive appears to be in good order for a property that has been vacant for at least a year,’ remarked Ran. ‘Let us hope the house is similarly up together. Chislett said there were a handful of staff in residence. Now, what did he say was the name of the butler? Meavy. And his wife is housekeeper.’

  ‘I still think we should have sent word we were coming,’ muttered Joseph.

  ‘Devil a bit,’ replied the new Earl cheerfully.

  ‘You will look no-how if they can’t accommodate us and we have to find lodgings in Tavistock!’

  ‘Oh, I doubt it will come to that. We have slept under the stars before now.’

  ‘Aye, but that was on the other side of the world!’

  Ran merely laughed at his companion’s retort and leaned forward, eager for a glimpse of Beaumount Hall. He was not disappointed. It had been a fine day and the sun was setting in a blaze of golden light as the carriage swung around a bend and the house came into view.

  It was an impressive building over three floors. There was more than a hint of the baroque in the redbrick exterior with its creamy pilasters reaching to the roof line on the corners of the house. More pilasters flanked the door, which was topped by a stone hood, richly carved like a shell. Randolph grinned at his companion.

  ‘You may be easy, Joseph! The roof looks sound, so at the very worst we may sleep on the floor here tonight.’ The carriage stopped at the shallow steps and Ran jammed his hat on his head. ‘Come along, then. Let us see how Meavy reacts to our arrival.’

  However, when they were admitted to the house the butler looked surprised to see the new Earl, but not as shocked as Randolph had expected. Joseph had the letter of introduction from Chislett ready to wave before any suspicious custodians, but the butler scarcely glanced at it.

  ‘Welcome, my lord,’ he said, bowing. ‘It is unfortunate we had no notice of your coming today.’

  ‘There was no time,’ replied Ran, handing over his hat and coat. ‘If there is anything to eat in the house, then bring it to the drawing room, if you please.’

  ‘Very good, my lord. And what will you drink?’

  ‘I doubt you have any coffee.’

  ‘Lord love you, of course we have coffee, my lord. And tea.’

  ‘A pot of coffee, then.’ He glanced at Joseph. ‘You will come with me.’

  His valet maintained his silence only until Meavy had shown them into the drawing room and closed the door.

  ‘They will think it a pretty rum do, my lord, you taking refreshment with a servant.’

  ‘They will grow accustomed to it! And you are not a servant. You are my aide-de-camp. I have promoted you!’ He threw himself down into a chair beside the marble fireplace, where cheerful flames blazed. ‘Later I shall demand to know what the devil they are doing keeping fires burning here when there is no one in residence, but for now I am damned glad of it.’

  ‘Aye,’ said Joseph, sitting down. ‘Seems a strange set-up to me, however. Servants in livery and fires burning when they did not know the master was coming.’

  ‘Mayhap they light a fire occasionally to drive off the damp—’ Ran broke off as the door opened and Meavy came in with a tray of glasses and a decanter. He was followed by a plump woman in a white apron and with a snowy lace cap over her grey curls. She introduced herself as Mrs Meavy, the housekeeper.

  ‘The coffee will be ready in a trice, my lord, but I thought, in the meantime, you might like to take a glass of wine.’ She put a tray of cakes and biscuits down on a side table and turned back to the Earl. ‘Well, my lord, this is a to-do,’ she said cheerfully. ‘If I’d known you was coming, I’d have prepared a dinner for you, but with Her Ladyship being out for the day, all I have ready is an egg-and-bacon pie—’

  ‘Wait a moment.’ Ran raised one hand to stop the garrulous flow. ‘Her Ladyship?’

  The old lady blinked at him. ‘Why, yes, my lord. The Countess.’

  It was Ran’s turn to blink. ‘Countess? You mean the old Earl’s widow is in residence here?’

  He swore silently. He had not considered that possibility. Damn Chislett for not warning him!

  The housekeeper gave a fat chuckle. ‘Why, no, my lord. I means your Countess, o’ course!’

  Randolph ignored the choking sound coming from Joseph and concentrated on concealing his own astonishment.

  ‘Ah, yes. Lady Westray,’ he said, not betraying himself by the flicker of an eyelid. ‘She is gone out, you say?’

  ‘Aye, my lord. She went off to Meon House this morning to ride out with Lady Meon and then she is to dine there and stay the night.’

  ‘Is she indeed?’ He felt a laugh bubbling up and grinned at Joseph, who was still red in the face from coughing. ‘Then we shall join her there, once we have eaten something. Please bring us some of that pie, Mrs Meavy, and after we have dined, Joseph, you had best unpack and brush my evening coat!’

  * * *

  Ran gazed at himself in the long mirror, taking in the black coat with its gold buttons bearing the Westray crest. He had looked at it askance when he had pulled it out of the trunk of clothes the Gilmortons had procured for him, but now he gave a nod of approval.

  ‘Deb and Gil have surpassed my expectations,’ he declared. ‘Coat, knee breeches, the finest linen shirt, even footwear! Everything that is needed to convince doubters that I am indeed the new Earl.’

  He was in the master bedroom, where a fire had been hastily cobbled together. Joseph was tenderly brushing the new chapeau-bras that would complete his ensemble, but he threw his master a frowning look.

  ‘Aye, my lord, but who is this mysterious lady masquerading as your wife?’ He kept his voice low even though they were alone in the room. ‘I’ve asked a few questions, discreetly, of course, but all the servants can tell me is that she arrived two weeks ago along with her maid and took up residence. Gave some taradiddle about your being on business at t’other end of the country.’

  ‘And they believed it?’ Randolph fixed a diamond pin into the folds of his snowy cravat.

  ‘Why should they not?’ Joseph spread his hands. ‘They’d heard the new Earl had been found and summoned to come home and claim his inheritance. Nothing more.’

  ‘I suppose I had ordered Chislett not to blab,’ said Ran, fairly. ‘And the lady’s maid, the one person who might be able to tell us what is going on, has accompanied her mistress to Meon House.’ He took the hat from Joseph and adjusted it at a rakish angle on his fair head. ‘This could prove an interesting evening.’

  ‘Perhaps I should come with you, my lord. In case there is trouble.’

  ‘I do not anticipate needing your help, my friend. You stay here and make sure the sheets on the bed are properly aired. It was made up in a hurry and I don’t want to catch my death of cold.’

  ‘After everything we’ve been through, it would take more than a damp sheet to carry you off, my lord,’ muttered Joseph, as he opened the door for his master to go out.

  * * *<
br />
  Meon House was situated just a few miles from Beaumount Hall, but Randolph’s coachman was unfamiliar with the territory and took a wrong turn. It was therefore nearly nine o’clock before the carriage arrived at its destination. Light poured from every window and the number of carriages he could make out on the drive suggested there was something more than a quiet dinner in progress.

  It had started to rain and Ran hurried up the steps to the door, which a servant was holding open for him. In the hall a cheerful fire burned and Ran could hear the buzz of voices coming from the rooms beyond. The footman looked a little bemused when Ran gave him his name, but a lady, crossing the hall, stopped and came forward. By the way she dismissed the servant, Ran guessed this was Lady Meon. She was on the shady side of thirty, but taking in the voluptuous figure sheathed in gold satin and the glossy dark curls piled on her head, she dressed to advantage. She was an attractive woman, he thought, and she was well aware of it.

  ‘Lord Westray, this is indeed a surprise.’ The smile on her full red lips and the appraising look in her dark eyes suggested it was not an unpleasant one.

  ‘Yes, I am Westray.’ He smiled at her. ‘I beg your pardon for coming unannounced, but I have just arrived at Beaumount and learned my wife is here. I hope I have not interrupted your dinner?’

  Ran took her outstretched hand and bowed over it, then worried that perhaps it would be considered an old-fashioned gesture. To his relief, the lady was clearly charmed. Her smile grew.

  ‘No, no, we are quite finished and everyone is in the drawing room. I shall take you in myself. That is—’ She stopped suddenly. ‘Have you dined, Lord Westray? If not, I am sure we can—’

  ‘I dined at Beaumount, ma’am, thank you.’

  ‘Ah, good.’ She tucked her hand into his arm. ‘Come along, then, my lord. Let us go in. But I must warn you, it is only a little party, just a few neighbouring families, which is all the society this isolated place can provide. Lady Westray was eager to meet her neighbours and I was delighted to oblige her. Heavens, how pleased she will be to see you!’