Sherbrooke Twins tb-8

by Catherine Coulter

  “Good God, Hollis,” Douglas said. “Miss Plimpton has been dead these forty years!”

  “Forty-two years and six and one months, my lord.”

  Alexandra said, “That is surely enough time to cleanse out all residual feelings you cherished for Miss Plimpton.”

  “That’s as may be, my lady,” Hollis said. “But Annabelle frets. She wants my heart whole.”

  “And will she have your heart whole, Hollis?” Alex asked.

  “As you said, my lady, forty years have passed. I have told Annabelle that an old heart has more free space in it than a young heart, more room to take into itself the most profound of feelings and sentiments.”

  “When will we meet her, Hollis?”

  “She, my lord, has consented to have tea with you and your ladyship this very afternoon. Actually, I am here to inform you of this felicitous news. Ollie’s news was perhaps a bit more important, so I allowed him to precede me.”

  “Er, that is quite splendid, Hollis. Have Cook make her lemon seed cakes.”

  “It is done, my lord. Annabelle will be here at precisely four o’clock. I, myself, will fetch her from that lovely quaint village of Abington, where she has resided now for nearly four months.”

  “Abington is a charming village,” Alex said. “Does Miss Trelawny have relatives there, Hollis?”

  “It is Mrs. Trelawny, my lady. Annabelle has been widowed for many years now. She’s all alone, but her husband left her a neat competence so she is quite comfortable. I, naturally, will make her more comfortable than she is now.”

  “Why did she select Abington to live?” Douglas asked. “It is lovely, to be sure, but not the center of anything I can think of.”

  “I much enjoy Abington myself, my lord, indeed I have spent a good deal of time there over the years, going through the church records. They extend well back into the thirteenth century, if you can believe that. It turns out, my lord, that Annabelle also admires the church, and indeed, that is how I met her, walking to the rectory.”

  Douglas nodded, thinking of the sheaf of ancient church records he’d bought from Noddington Abbey, and given to Hollis years before.

  Douglas rose when the door closed on Hollis. “I must speak to Mother.” He sighed. “I do not believe it would do Hollis’s prospects any good if she is present to meet Mrs. Trelawny.”

  Alex said, “No, she would likely have Hollis’s lady running from the Hall, shrieking or crying. She is so remarkably healthy. It quite makes one shudder.”

  He laughed, walked past her, only to turn and lift her up in his arms and swing her around. She was laughing down at him, his face nearly in her bosom, when the door opened and a familiar sour voice said, “Unseemly! Disgraceful! Why haven’t you taught this girl how to behave, Douglas? You have been married to her more years than I can bear to count, and still she is poking herself out and encouraging you to wildness.”

  “Hello, Mother.”

  “Hello, Mother-in-law.”

  “I have decided to have my luncheon in here. You will both sit down since I have matters of grave concern to discuss with you.”

  Douglas said from his impressive height, still holding his wife in his arms, “Do forgive us, Mother, but Alex and I have very important matters to attend to. We will visit with you at dinner.”

  “No! Wait, it’s my maid, the slovenly creature, she isn’t-”

  They missed the last, thank God. The two servants who saw the earl and countess dash from the dining room, laughing like children, cutting off the dowager’s moldy voice, would have cheered, if Hollis wouldn’t have berated them endlessly for such behavior.

  “Miserable old besom,” Tilda, the downstairs maid, whispered to Ellie behind her hand. “She’ll live forever, my ma told me, said her meanness keeps her healthy. She said she wouldn’t doubt if she kept a flask filled with rum in her bedchamber.”

  “I’ll ask that poor maid of hers,” said Ellie. “Rum? Hmmm.” The two of them laughed.

  Douglas and Alexandra ran, hand in hand, into the bright cold afternoon, to the gazebo that Douglas’s grandfather had built on a small hill above an ornamental pond.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  “ SIT DOWN, MY dear,” Douglas said. “We’ve things to speak about.”

  Alexandra sat watching her husband pace up and down the length of the gazebo.

  Douglas said, “Talking to you about this helps focus my brain. Georges’s two children and his sister-in-law left Paris immediately after his death.”

  “Yes.”

  “I received a message that the children traveled to Spain, but soon thereafter they were gone again. I still don’t know where they ended up. Nor have I been able to find out what sort of financial situation they were in at the time of their father’s death.”

  Alexandra said matter-of-factly, “There must be sufficient money, for the son has funds to hire men to kill you.”

  He nodded. “The son is currently in London, but that could change in an instant.”

  “He will make a mistake, Douglas, you’ll see, and we’ll get him.”

  “I’ll tell you, Alex, the thought of this young man hiding behind a tree, just waiting for me to come into his gun range, is beyond galling. I want him; I want him on my own terms.”

  “I’ve begun to wonder about the warnings that Lord Wellington received. Maybe the son arranged for you to learn that Georges Cadoudal was involved. Maybe, when he used your name, he wanted you to know exactly who he was. He wants drama, attention. He wants you to admire his prowess, his perseverance.”

  “He wanted me to know he was coming to kill me? Aye, I see. A warning then. That first time he shot at me was a warning. He wanted me to be afraid, he wanted to play with me before he killed me, but before he killed me, he wanted me to know who he was. I wish we knew why he’s doing this.”

  It was time, Douglas thought, as they walked back to the Hall, time for him and his sons to bring their attention closer to home. When they stepped into the elegant entrance hall, still hand in hand, the three servants who observed them would swear that the earl and countess had enjoyed a splendid interlude in the gazebo. Douglas, realizing this quickly enough, kissed his wife thoroughly, and then he left her to work in the estate room. He sat at his desk for ten minutes longer, then walked quickly to his bedchamber, where he found his wife sitting on a chair facing the large windows, humming as she mended one of his shirts. She smiled up at him, a dimple deepening in her cheek, and slowly began to unfasten the long line of buttons on the front of her dress. He thought that being married a good long time wasn’t a bad thing. The years tuned minds together, at least some of the time. The years added more space in the heart, just as Hollis had said.

  He leaned down to kiss her, his hands already busy with hers on those buttons.

  AT PRECISELY FOUR o’clock that afternoon, Hollis opened wide the double doors to the drawing room, stood there, tall, straight, thick white hair flowing beautifully, nearly to his shoulders, looking just like God. He waited until he had the full attention of the earl and countess, and said grandly, “May I introduce to you Mrs. Annabelle Trelawny, born in that lovely town of Chester.”

  “With such a splendid introduction,” came a soft low voice, “I fear you will be vastly disappointed.”

  Annabelle Trelawny looked like a small, plump fairy, light on her feet, ever so graceful. She also looked at once embarrassed and so pleased she looked ready to burst her stays.

  “Do allow me to seat you here, Annabelle,” Hollis said, and led her tenderly to the very feminine chair opposite the earl and countess. “Are you comfortable, my dear?”

  Annabelle straightened her skirts, smiled up at Hollis like he was indeed God, and said in a soft, well-bred voice, “Oh yes, I am perfectly fine, thank you, William.”

  William? Douglas supposed he knew that Hollis’s first name was William, but it had been so very long, he doubted if he could have recalled it on his own. William Hollis, a good name.

  An
nabelle Trelawny didn’t have the look of a rapacious grandmother; she had sweet, deep crinkles around her eyes and mouth, from laughter, Alex thought. And such a sweet face. Her hair was dark with silver threaded through, her eyes a rich dark brown, intelligent eyes that saw a lot. Her skin was soft, unblemished. When she spoke, her voice was as kind as her face. “My lord, my lady, it is gracious of you to invite me to tea. William, naturally, has told me so much about the both of you, and your sons, James and Jason.”

  Alex was trying to motion Hollis to sit down, but he would have none of it. He remained standing behind his beloved’s chair, looking both austere and infatuated, an unlikely combination, but it was true. “James isn’t here at the moment. He and his new wife are on their honeymoon. Our son Jason will be here shortly. He is looking forward to meeting you, ma’am. May I pour you a cup of tea, Mrs. Trelawny?”

  Annabelle smiled a smile so sweet that it was obvious why it had smitten Hollis, and nodded. “I prefer a bit of milk, my lady.”

  It was Hollis who delivered his beloved’s tea and tenderly placed it in her white hands. “Allow me to bring you the tray of cakes that Cook prepared, Annabelle. I know you like the almond biscuits.”

  Annabelle proved her liking for almond biscuits, eating three of them, all the while nodding and smiling and listening, saying little until Jason came into the drawing room, windblown, dressed in buckskins and an open-necked white shirt, showing his tanned throat. He came to an abrupt halt, and said immediately, “Are you Mrs. Trelawny? It is a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” and he walked to where she sat, picked up her hand, and lightly kissed it.

  “I am Jason, ma’am.”

  Annabelle gazed up at him, and said slowly, “You are quite a delight to behold,” and gave him a smile less grandmotherly than the one she’d given his parents.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Jason said, so used to looks like hers that it didn’t faze him. “Hollis has told both my brother and me that we are only bearable. It is you, ma’am, who is Hollis’s delight.”

  Now that was smoothly done, Douglas thought, eyeing his son with approval.

  Hollis cleared his throat. “Master Jason, I fear that this display of polite affection is a bit on the overdone side.”

  “Hollis, are you jealous?”

  Hollis puckered up, looked like God readying to blast the stone tablets. Jason, surprised and dismayed, wished he could take himself back to the paddocks.

  Annabelle said easily, wanting to pat that very lovely hand of his, “I don’t blame William for being jealous, Jason. You are quite the most beautiful young man I have ever seen in my life. Goodness, you don’t look a thing like your parents-oh dear, that wasn’t at all what I should have said. I do apologize.”

  Douglas said, “My sons look exactly like their aunt, something that fries my innards everytime I am forced to face it. It fries my wife’s innards as well.”

  Annabelle laughed at that. “I have always found it amazing how blood manifests itself in people, particularly in children. Is it true that your brother looks just like you, Jason?”

  “It is true, ma’am.” He turned to Hollis, who was still standing stiff as a poker. “May I bring you a cup of tea, Hollis? I know that you like a twist of lemon.”

  Hollis unbent to his beautiful young charge. “You may, Master Jason.”

  Douglas was relieved to see Hollis unpucker. He had never seen Hollis display such emotion, particularly an emotion so low as jealousy.

  Alexandra said, “Tell us, Jason, what does Bad Boy think of the new mare you brought to him?”

  “He’s in love, Mother. I left him mooning, his head resting on the paddock fence, gazing upon his beloved with bloodshot eyes, since I doubt he slept much last night, thinking about her. The mare isn’t in heat yet, so she just swishes her tail at Bad Boy. There might be a bit of a wait for him.”

  It occurred to Alexandra that such talk of mating horses wasn’t all that appropriate in the drawing room. She smiled at Annabelle. “So you are from Chester, Mrs. Trelawny, so very close to the Welsh border. A beautiful city and countryside, both my husband and I enjoyed ourselves when we visited the area.”

  Hollis said, “After Annabelle’s mother died when she was a child, her father took her to live in Oxford. It was there she met Miss Plimpton and enjoyed vast numbers of hours in her company. After Annabelle married, she left Oxford. I believe you told me that you and Bernard traveled extensively.”

  Annabelle nodded. “Oh yes, my husband wasn’t happy breathing the same air for too many weeks in a row. He had to be off, and he took me with him.”

  Jason said, “Speaking of travels, Mother, did you and Father ever visit The Coombes in western Ireland? That’s where Judith hails from.”

  “I don’t believe I’ve heard of The Coombes,” Douglas said.

  “I’m going to write her cousin, see if I can’t pay him a visit. Oh, Father, would you like to come riding with me later? I think exercise would calm Bad Boy down.”

  Alexandra said, “If you really wish to, Douglas, then I will get my gun and ride beside you.”

  Douglas patted his wife’s hand and said to Annabelle, “We’ve had some problems here. My wife is concerned. She wants to protect me.”

  Hollis cleared his throat. “I have told Annabelle what has been happening, my lord. She has advised that we must remain calm, that we should observe every new face we see closely, for signs of evil, for this assault on your lordship is evil, she believes, and evil cannot be hidden if one is vigilant.”

  “Er, thank you, Mrs. Trelawny,” Douglas said quickly, seeing that Jason was regarding the lady with something close to awe.

  “Yes,” Alexandra added, “we are grateful for your perceptions.”

  Ten minutes later, Alexandra was left alone with Annabelle Trelawny while Hollis saw to a problem in the kitchens. She said immediately, “You mustn’t worry that Hollis is still heartbroken over Miss Plimpton. Hollis always knows what he’s about.”

  “Oh no, that doesn’t really worry me,” Annabelle said comfortably. “He’s right. I did know Miss Plimpton.” Annabella actually shuddered. “She was six years older than I and fancied that she knew everything. She was officious, my lady, but of course I would never tell my dear William that. I’ll never forget one time when he visited Miss Plimpton. I hadn’t yet left the house when I heard her tell him that her soul was fashioned in exactly the proper way to assist his soul to perfection. I would have thrown a vase at her, but dear William said something to the effect that his soul needed all the help it could get. Her death was really rather stupid, rather in keeping with her character. She was so busy telling one of her father’s parishioners all the errors of his ways that she didn’t see a step and fell off it, hit her head, and it was all over.”

  Alexandra said, “Blessed hell-er, excuse me-but how very amazing this all is.”

  “Well, perhaps I shouldn’t be pouring out all this vinegar, but the fact is, if Miss Plimpton had lived, she would have made the poor man miserable.”

  When Hollis came back into the drawing room a few minutes later, the ladies merely exchanged a glance and that was that. A perfectly pleasant conversation followed among the three of them, about nothing and everything. Annabelle patted Hollis’s hand several times, easily done since his right hand was sitting very close to her shoulder, and said, “I have imposed myself for an exceedingly long time on her ladyship, William.”

  Hollis hurried around the chair to assist her, although she didn’t need any assistance at all. By visual reckoning, Alexandra thought she was at least fifteen years Hollis’s junior. Was his name really William? But, the odd thing was, they looked very natural standing side by side, and when Hollis took her arm, he gave her such a sweet smile that Alexandra thought it matched hers, and hers was potent indeed.

  When Hollis reappeared that evening at the dinner hour, he gave everyone a placid smile and announced that he and Annabelle were going to be married. Soon, he added, since a man couldn’t count
on hanging about forever, and besides, a man wanted his wife with him at Christmas, when he placed a present in her hands and earned her gratitude.

  “What sort of gratitude could Mrs. Trelawny show Hollis?” Jason wanted to know as he watched Hollis glide in his stately manner from the drawing room, but he knew. The thought of Hollis and Mrs. Trelawny even kissing, much less taking off their clothes, made his innards cramp up. His father, knowing exactly what he was thinking, threw his napkin at him, and said, “Gratitude is gratitude at any age. Never forget, Jason, if a man has the will and the parts, he’ll do just fine until he’s planted deep.”

  Jason was hard-pressed not to hoot with laughter, but one look at his mother’s face stilled him. He cleared his throat. “Judith and Lady Arbuckle have finally agreed to come for a visit. I believe they will arrive tomorrow.”

  “Excellent,” Jason’s mother said. “I have this feeling that we should perhaps get to know Judith McCrae a bit better. What do you think, Jason?”

  “Oh yes,” Jason said. “Oh yes,” and he left the dining room, whistling.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  JASON LOOKED LIKE a proud parent as the girl he planned to marry said to his father, “I have heard that Jason can tame any wild animal he finds.”

  How did she know that?

  “It’s true,” Douglas said slowly, his eyes on his son, who looked so besotted he was in danger of drooling. “He found an injured marten when he was five years old. The marten allowed Jason to wrap him in his coat and bring him home. He kept it in his bedchamber for two weeks. There have been a long line of creatures for him to tend since then.”

  Judith saw that Jason wanted to know how she knew this and said simply, “Lord Pomeroy told me. He said he should know, since you burped up milk on his shirt when you were eight months old.

  “I also heard it said that you even train cats to run in the cat races.”