by Lily George
He gave his head a decided shake. Enough.
“I am afraid I am bound for London on the morrow.” There, out with it. Be as blunt as possible, and state the facts squarely. “There’s a pressing matter of business I can no longer delay.”
Becky looked up from her sewing, her eyes widened. “Of—of course.” She paid elaborate attention to the needle she’d been threading. “How long will you be gone?”
“Originally I had intended to stay the entire season, but...” He lapsed into silence. Did Becky’s hand usually tremble that much when she sewed? Surely not. She was so deft with a needle. She was upset, and rightly so. After all, he had given his word that he would help with Juliet, at least until she was well in hand.
“Well, I wish you a safe journey,” she rejoined, her entire being focused on the little nightgown she was stitching. “You should travel a sight slower this time. Don’t break yet another axle.” Her tone was jesting, but the frown that creased her forehead spoke volumes. Becky was not pleased.
He gave an appreciative chuckle. “You’ll be all right then? Juliet seems calmer now. You’ve made great strides with her this week. A proper nap time, a proper bedtime and Sunday school.” Really, he was reassuring himself as much as he was praising her. It would be all right, this once, to break his word.
“Yes, she has improved a great deal.” Becky said nothing more.
They sat in silence for a while. ’Twas rather unnerving. Usually they thrashed out their plans for Juliet for the next day, the next week. And they would talk and jest about the day’s activities. He’d come to genuinely enjoy this time with Becky. Their chats were such a pleasant and stimulating way to end the day.
If he were in London, he would miss that, too.
The ticking of the clock on the mantel grew more annoying with every passing second. He had to do something, anything to make this trip to London right.
“I don’t suppose...you’d like to come along?” He drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair to deafen the ticking of the clock. “You and Juliet, of course,” he amended. Though it scarcely needed to be said, if one considered their situation.
“Come along? To London?” Becky clasped the nightgown to her chest and gave a tentative smile. “Are you certain?”
“Well, why not?” Now that he made the decision, it made jolly good sense. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? “You can entertain Juliet with all the sights of London, and enjoy a few of them yourself. Have you ever been before?”
“No, never. Matlock Bath is as far as I have ever journeyed.” Two bright spots of color appeared on her cheeks, a most becoming shade of pink. “Are you quite sure? Traveling, even just from Cleethorpes, with Juliet was rather an ordeal.”
“It’s an ordeal we shall suffer cheerfully together.” He rubbed his hands together with a brisk gesture. He was in control of the situation once more, putting things in order just as he should. “Juliet will need to grow accustomed to travel, for when she gets older, she will need to be in town for the season. Better to start her young, you know.”
“What a wonderful idea. If you are really certain that all will be well, then I think it a perfect plan.” Becky folded the night dress and placed it back in her sewing box. “I must begin packing. Indeed, I don’t know how I shall sleep, I am so excited.”
“I shall leave you to it.” Joy fairly sang through his body. He’d kept his word and made Becky happy, too. And the journey—though, of course, Juliet was sure to be trying—didn’t seem half as arduous now. As a matter of fact, the prospect of showing off London to someone who hadn’t seen it, who had never had the chance to grow jaded and blasé about it, held special appeal. “We shall leave shortly after breakfast tomorrow.”
Becky gave him a luminous grin, one that showed the dimple in her cheek and caused his heart to flutter strangely in his chest. “We shall be ready, I promise,” she vowed.
He rose from his chair and gave her a courtly bow. “Until the morning, then.”
She nodded, her eyes shining like amethysts, as he quit the room. The cobwebby feeling dissipated the moment he left. This was the right choice, the perfect plan for keeping his word. Better still, it meant Becky would be with him in London all the time, with her charming smile and guileless manner.
Not that that mattered, of course. She was his niece’s nursemaid, nothing more.
But it was pleasant indeed to think upon.
* * *
As soon as Paul closed the sitting room door, Becky danced around with glee. She was going to London! Never, not in all her life, had she dreamed she would travel so far. Certainly not after Papa and Mama passed away. Why, a whole new world had opened before her this very night. She would have the chance to take Juliet to all of the sights. Even a stroll along the streets would be a grand occasion.
She must get to work at once. There was so much to be done to ready herself before the morning.
She pulled the bell rope. Surely Juliet’s trunks were still located somewhere in the many nooks and crannies at Kellridge. And her own modest trunk was tucked underneath her bed. She could pull that one out herself and set about packing right away.
She passed from the sitting room into her bedroom, and kneeling on the rug, found the handle of her trunk. With a mighty jerk, she pulled it out from beneath the bed.
“Oh, don’t try to do that alone, miss.” Her maid, Kate, spoke up from behind her.
“Oh, it’s no bother, really. It’s quite light.” Becky blew a wayward strand of hair out of her eyes and sat upon the trunk. “I rang to see if you or anyone else knows where Miss Juliet’s trunks ended up. I need them.”
“I am sure they were placed in the attic. Mrs. C. usually stows the luggage up there.” Kate stared at Becky, her forehead wrinkled with something like concern. “Why do you ask? Are you going anywhere?”
“Yes. Mr. Holmes wishes to take his niece with him to London on the morrow. I’ve only just learnt about it. And so I must pack our things in a hurry so we may be ready when he is in the morning.” Becky shrugged. There was always the possibility that she might awaken Juliet once she started packing, much less moving trunks around. How could she manage this quietly?
“If you could make arrangements to have Miss Juliet’s trunk sent down in the morning, I will gather all her things tonight.” That really was the best solution to the problem. “And that way, we shan’t be late, and I won’t run the risk of awakening her. Of course, I’ll pack my own right now.”
“Yes, miss,” Kate murmured. Then, assuming a confidential air, she leaned forward. “Are you quite sure that Mr. Holmes wants you and Miss Juliet to stay with him in town? In his townhome in Grosvenor Square?”
“I don’t know where his home in town is located, but yes. I am certain that he wants us both to be there with him.” Funny, her giddiness only increased as she spoke those words. Staying with Paul rather than having Paul leave them behind was such a vastly superior change of plans. Not that she would miss him so much, of course, but just that his help had been so wonderful these past few days. If they were making strides with Juliet, it must be in good part because they worked so well together.
“I don’t want to speak out of turn.” Kate’s stern tone made all her happiness evaporate into thin air. “You should know that the way in which Mr. Holmes conducts himself in London is different from the manner in which he behaves at home.”
“Surely you’re not gossiping, Kate.” Becky arched one eyebrow. Coldness began to settle at the pit of her stomach.
“No, I am not a gossip. But as one who has been in service longer than you, I think it wise to inform you.” Kate knelt on the rug before Becky, twisting her hands in her lap. “Mr. Holmes is the best master Kellridge has ever possessed, to be sure. His life in London makes up for his sober attitude here at home. I only know this because one of my sisters w
orks for him in London, and she told me the tales.”
“Why are you telling me this? I am merely assisting him with his charge.” The coldness spread to her hands, and she suppressed a shiver.
“Well, I think you should know for two reasons. First, you should make sure that Miss Juliet is not ever aware of the nature of the things Mr. Holmes does in London, particularly if you are making her into a fine young British girl.”
“I highly doubt he would behave in such a fashion before his niece,” Becky bit the words out. Of course Paul would never do anything untoward where his niece might be watching. She had only known him a brief time, to be sure, but he’d never impressed her as another Uncle Arthur. He was, perhaps, too much of a tease and could be too rigid in the rules he set, but he never behaved improperly before a lady, not to her knowledge.
“Please don’t be offended, miss. It’s just that you are so new to service, and being that your family has been friendly with the master for some time, perhaps you don’t see things as another servant would.” Kate tugged at a fraying bit of the rug, keeping her eyes cast down. “All I can tell you is that Mr. Holmes takes his responsibilities as master here quite seriously. He is one of the best masters in the county. When he goes to London, he has the chance to play, and he does play rather hard.”
“Very well. I thank you for telling me.” If she continued arguing the point with Kate, then there would be no end to this interview. And as it was, this conversation was having a decidedly dampening effect upon her excitement. “Was there anything else?”
“I know you are working closely with Mr. Holmes to govern Miss Juliet. He visits and consults with you often. We all know there is nothing untoward in these meetings, but—” Kate stammered and fell silent for a moment.
“But what? You have said yourself they are perfectly innocent calls, and they are. Without his help, managing Miss Juliet would be much more difficult, at least until she learns better English.” A sense of nervous unease crept over Becky. What was Kate implying? And would she ever leave?
“Nothing. I seem to have spoken out of turn.” Kate rose from her seat on the carpet, her face set in a blank expression.
“I assure you that, while I am in London, I shall be there solely to care for Miss Juliet in my position as her nursemaid. Nothing unseemly shall befall us.” Becky swallowed hard. This entire conversation was ridiculous, and really, a bit beyond what Kate should be bringing up. “I thank you for your warnings. I know your intentions are good.”
Kate bobbed a curtsy. “They are. Will there be anything else?”
“No.” Becky fought the rising tide of agitation that welled within her. “Just see to it that Miss Juliet’s trunk is sent down here first thing in the morning, if you please.”
Kate nodded and, curtsying again, quit the room.
Alone at last, Becky stared at the roughened surface of her trunk. Her excitement about London was dashed all to pieces, and in its stead remained only uneasiness. Why had Kate sought to issue such a dire warning about life with Paul in town?
Based on her limited understanding, society dictated that all young gentlemen must carouse a bit while they were in company with each other. And the season offered many opportunities for this kind of play. There was surely nothing sinister in the way Paul acted while he was in town. For one thing, Susannah would know. Daniel and Paul were the best of friends, and Susannah knew all about Daniel’s past. If there were truly anything terrible about Paul’s character, Susannah would never have let her come to service here.
And it was highly unlikely Daniel would continue to be Paul’s friend, after all the changes wrought in his character by marriage, if Paul were a terrible blackguard.
None of this made any sense. And it was spoiling the one chance she had to enjoy herself thoroughly in the biggest and the best town in all of England.
Becky stood and opened her trunk. If she busied herself with folding and tucking her belongings away, perhaps that brief flash of anticipation would return. She hadn’t felt such hope or exhilaration since her fleeting, albeit imaginary, courtship with Lieutenant Walker.
A life without any kind of expectation was flat indeed. And while she’d given up on any silly notions of romance that horrid day on the moor, she could allow herself a moment or two of enjoyment in the course of her duties.
Surely that wasn’t too much to ask of life.
Chapter Fourteen
This was, by far, the most interesting trip he’d ever undertaken to London. Paul stared out the carriage window as Juliet bounced and wriggled in the seat beside him. Of course, it was also one of the few where he hadn’t imbibed any kind of liquor. He needed a clear head to help Becky as she tried to contain his charge, who hadn’t grown any more used to being cooped up in a carriage as the days progressed.
On the other hand, ’twas a sight pleasanter to travel with someone as stimulating in conversation as Becky. During his past journeys, he might give thought only to the pleasures of a baser nature awaiting his arrival. Or he might bring along a traveling companion as dissolute as he. This was, though, the first time since he was a lad that he had someone with which to engage in interesting and frank discussions. Or to show off the sights as they trundled into town. ’Twas rather refreshing, actually. For though Becky had been strangely reserved since they started the trip, with no more of the ecstatic glee she’d displayed when he invited her, she was still looking at the journey with fresh and appreciative eyes.
A length of iron railing flashed into view. They were nearly home. He pointed out the window. “See here, Becky—we’re passing Hyde Park. Of course, it isn’t the fashionable hour to be seen, so no one of consequence is there. Come this afternoon, the park will be mobbed with throngs of the wealthy and elite.”
Becky smiled and quirked her eyebrows. “Fashionable hour? Why would it matter what time of day it was, if all you were doing was walking in a park?”
He laughed. “Yes, indeed. It does sound rather odd, doesn’t it? You would be amazed at how strictly society governs these things. The proper time to stroll in Hyde Park is from half-past four to about half-past five, if one is a lady. Gentlemen may tarry longer.”
“Does the park have many fine views?” Becky craned her neck to get a glimpse outside the window.
“I am sure there are many lovely vistas, but when one strolls in Hyde Park, one does so to admire the splendid display of humanity rather than nature. Ah, here we are, turning on to Grosvenor Street.” He turned to face her. “Would you like to go for a stroll this afternoon? I should be happy to take you. It might be amusing for you to see how people parade themselves like peacocks in Rotten Row.”
“Rotten?” Becky gave him a weak smile. “Nay, it all sounds rather too much. Especially after such a long journey. I am certain my afternoon will be occupied with getting Juliet settled.”
“Juliet may come, too. Would you like that, little one?” He glanced down at his niece, who pushed past him to place her small hands on the windowpane. “Ah, she knows where she is already. I vow that by the time she reaches sixteen, she will be as much of a diamond as her mama was.” Funny, it didn’t hurt as much to think of Juliana and what a belle she had been during her season. Was being around her daughter helping to assuage his grief and his guilt?
“I think I would rather acquaint Juliet with her new surroundings,” Becky interjected, a pleading note in her voice.
Well, perhaps Becky was correct. After all, they had been traveling for some time. ’Twas probably best to put off sightseeing for tomorrow. He gave her a brief nod, and she cast a tight smile his way in return.
The coachman pulled up in front his townhome—and it remained an impressive sight to behold. The servants had given the exterior of the home a fresh whitewash and had recently, per his implicit instructions, painted the shutters a deep, dark shade of green. The ornate pillars stretche
d the length of all three stories, giving the building an air of detached formality. Had Papa prevailed, their townhome would have been in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, among wealthy tradespeople, the sort of people most like his family. Mama had insisted on a fine Mayfair residence.
To Paul’s dismay, there, on the front portico, was a familiar disheveled sight. John Reed, who, with Daniel, would carouse with Paul until the wee hours of every morning. His heart sank. John was a decent enough chap, but not necessarily one he wanted to introduce to Becky or Juliet. Ignoring propriety, he bounded out of the carriage ahead of its female occupants. He must quell John’s certain exuberance.
“Paul!” he called, clapping Paul on the shoulder as he mounted the steps. “Does me a power of good to see you. You look awful, my dear fellow. That carriage accident has rendered your formerly handsome face as much appeal as a jigsaw puzzle. I had quite despaired of you coming to town. Now that you are here, we must celebrate.”
“John, so good of you to form a welcoming committee of one.” Paul flicked an anxious glance over his shoulder to where Becky was just helping Juliet out of the carriage. “You remember my sister Juliana? She passed away a few months ago where she was living abroad, and her daughter is now my ward.”
“Oh, so sorry to hear she’s passed. My sympathies, and all that.” John removed his hat with a deferential air and peered over at Juliet. “She really is the spitting image of her mother, isn’t she?”
“Yes, she is.” Paul stepped aside as Becky mounted the steps with Juliet. “Miss Siddons, the nursery will be on the second floor.” As he spoke, the front door opened and Edmunds, the butler for his townhome staff, stepped out. “Edmunds, please show Miss Siddons to the nursery suite. I shall be in presently.”
Edmunds bowed and motioned to Becky. Juliet followed her nursemaid, shadowing her so closely it was a wonder she didn’t become entangled in Becky’s skirts.