Hareton Hall: Richard and Rose, Book 6

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Hareton Hall: Richard and Rose, Book 6 Page 2

by Lynne Connolly


  “I wouldn’t dare do anything else, knowing you had her in your sights.” He gave her one of his beguiling smiles as he straightened up. Martha was forced to smile back. I knew that Richard’s polished manner and elegant address intimidated her, but she didn’t understand that it came naturally to him.

  “Come inside.” Martha led the way into the house.

  My stomach tightened as we went through the grand front door, but inside I gaped in astonishment. While I could recognise some of the features of the old house on the outside, the inside was completely transformed. What was once a modest hall was now a grand entrance hall, fit to receive a duke, should one pass this way. I recognised some of the treasures from Hareton Abbey—the chandelier and some portraits—but this wasn’t the pleasant little hall of my youth, and I realised that the house must extend much farther behind the façade than I’d thought.

  Martha watched me, smiling. I smelled new paint and ammonia, a sure sign of a well-kept household, but not the cooking smells drifting up from the basement kitchen which had always greeted the visitor to the manor.

  “How did you transform it so quickly?” I asked.

  Martha laughed. “Mr. Scott redesigned the whole of the inside but he recommended we keep the shell. James was so keen to get his house back. He hated all the disruption.”

  “So much in so little time.” My voice echoed around the extended hall.

  “Not so much. Not every room is decorated and the plasterers are still at work in one of the wings. By using as much as we could from the old abbey, we’ve contrived to make most of the rooms at least functional, but we have a long way to go yet.” She grinned. “Come and have some tea in the new salon.” We followed her up the great staircase, Martha chattering about painters and decorations and colour schemes.

  The inside of the manor had been completely remodelled. The principal rooms were now on the first floor, as they were in most great houses. The landing upstairs was circular, and I smiled when I recognised Aphrodite and Cupid from the abbey. I’d helped to scrub them clean. “What did you do with the rest of the statues?” I asked her. The abbey had a huge hall ranged with life-sized statues and busts, which the third Earl of Hareton had brought home from the Grand Tour.

  “We kept the few we liked and the rest will go to auction. Except the ones your brother-in-law liked, and we’ve kept them back for him to look at.”

  “Gervase?” Richard said, startled. We hadn’t seen him since we left Eyton for Oxfordshire.

  Martha smiled. “Ian invited him, and of course he is invited to both Lizzie’s and Tom’s weddings. He’s spending most of his time in the library helping to catalogue all the books that keep arriving from the abbey. I sent word to them that you would arrive soon. Otherwise they tend to lose track of time.”

  A footman in livery flung open the door to the new salon but didn’t announce us. It was now considered old-fashioned to do that except in formal or public situations. Not en famille.

  Several people sat on the elegant satin sofas and chairs or stood in the airy, elegant room. The main furnishings were yellow, as were the drapes, so I guessed it would become the Yellow Salon in time.

  I ran forward to embrace them. James, the Earl of Hareton now, but still my best brother, my lovely sisters Lizzie and Ruth, Richard’s brother Gervase and my own brother Ian. And, to my surprise, Richard’s cousin Freddy, Lord Thwaite. He hadn’t mentioned he would be here.

  “So, James,” I asked him. “Used to being an earl yet?”

  “No,” he said. “Used to being a viscountess?”

  I laughed and acknowledged the hit. “No. This is lovely, James, a vast improvement on the abbey.”

  James lifted his tea dish to his lips and examined me, clearly assessing me. The ruffles at his wrist were finer now, the tea dish of the best china, but he was still my brother James, the country gentleman. He would never change, and I was glad of it. He was a handsome man, but with the ruddy countenance of a countryman, and the broad shoulders to go with it. He looked content, and I was glad of that too.

  “I’d appreciate your advice,” Richard said. “We went on ahead when Helen showed every sign of settling down for a nap, but unfortunately we were held up. I hadn’t heard of a highwayman in the district.”

  Cries of dismay rang around the room. Too much, I thought. It was obvious we weren’t hurt.

  Martha glanced at my wedding finger. “Your ring is still there!”

  “He gave it back,” I told her. “And I had time to hide my betrothal ring.”

  “Gave it back?” Martha echoed. “Why would he do that?”

  I shrugged. “Gallantry, I suppose.” Richard exchanged a glance with Freddy, but I had something to tell Gervase. “He took the watch you gave to me, though. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s hardly your fault,” Gervase said dryly. “Not to worry. I’ll get you another.”

  He smiled, but despite his resemblance to his twin, my husband, his smile never evoked the same feelings in me. I often wondered on the resemblance, and that I would feel passion for one brother but only warm friendship for the other. “Richard says he’ll send someone to search the shops in Exeter, in case the thief sells it there.”

  He shrugged, the shoulders of his dark green country coat moving and falling perfectly back into place. “I’ll get you another one anyway.”

  I put my hand on my chair, feeling the new silk cloth. It was as well the previous earls had left a lot of cash in the bank, I reflected, although this had not been the purpose for which it had been intended. What the fraudulent minister had lost, my brother had gained, and he was now putting it to good use.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” Martha asked me, a frown creasing her brow. “Wouldn’t you like to lie down?”

  Irritating. I was not an invalid; why would I want that? “No, of course not. He didn’t hurt me.”

  “It was only one man?” James asked. “You should report this. We’ve been blessedly free of highwaymen recently.”

  Richard glanced at me. “I have every intention of doing so, and I shall make some enquiries of my own, as well. If he’d hurt Rose, I’d have done my best to make those enquiries irrelevant.” Most people in the room knew he was absolutely capable of making good on his threat. Outside the room, few people were aware of the fact.

  “A small incident, soon over.” I hated fuss, and we could gain nothing from discussing the event now.

  In an attempt to change the subject I stood and walked to the windows, recognising at last whereabouts in the old manor I was by the familiar view. “This must have been your bedroom, Martha.”

  Martha smiled and came over to join me. “Part of it, but this room takes up a deal more space. And my new bedroom is far more elegant. Would you like to see it?”

  “Oh yes,” I agreed with enthusiasm. I glanced at my sister, realising one person was absent. “Where’s the Marquês?”

  Lizzie brightened at the mention of her fiancé. “He went into Exeter. He wouldn’t tell me why. He’ll be so glad to see you when he gets back.”

  “I’ll be glad to see him too.”

  Richard got to his feet as I linked my arm with Martha in the old, familiar manner. “Would you excuse me? I want to set some enquiries in train for the discovery of our attacker and the recovery of Rose’s watch.”

  He bowed and left the room. Martha took me out by another door, and we passed into the next room, an antechamber. “I’ve got state rooms,” she crowed. “Me!”

  She sounded about fourteen years old, and I was delighted for her. “Lady Southwood uses hers frequently. Too grand for me.”

  Martha stopped walking and glanced at me, curiosity mixed with concern in her grey eyes. “She’s your mother-in-law. Don’t you call her anything more familiar?”

  I shook my head. “Richard isn’t close to his parents. He and his father are mending bridges, but he may never forgive them.”

  “Forgive them for what?”

  I could tell
Martha. If I couldn’t trust her, I could trust nobody. She’d seen me at my worst and always stood by me. I faced her, ignoring the pretty room for now. “They did some terrible things to him. He made a maid pregnant when he was fourteen, and they didn’t tell him.”

  “How could he not know?”

  “Before he discovered the pregnancy they spirited her away. They were afraid that if he knew she was pregnant he might follow her and make good on his promise to marry her.”

  Martha stared at the freshly decorated wall, unseeing. “Poor boy. Poor boy.”

  I drew a breath, ready to tell her the rest. “The woman had twins. She died last year.” No sense telling Martha that the mother of his first two children was the woman whose murder we investigated last year. “We found the girl, and she’s taken care of.” No sense telling her how we’d done that, either. She’d chosen her way in life. All we did was ensure she wouldn’t ever end on the streets and that she was secure. The girl wouldn’t allow any more. “We haven’t found the boy yet, though we live in hope of it.”

  Her gaze sharpened even more. “He didn’t marry the girl? You know that for sure?”

  Wonderful Martha, always caring for her chickens. In this case, me. I shook my head. “No, he didn’t. I’m not sure if it would have been legal, but no. I’m his wife, and he’s never had another.” I turned towards the door at the far end of the room. “Now show me the rest of the house and by then Helen will have arrived.”

  I liked the new house, where I didn’t expect to, but the smell of new paint, ammonia and freshly cut wood was only slightly masked by the fires burning in many of the grates.

  When a maid came to tell us of Helen’s arrival, Martha took me to the nursery, up one floor.

  I stopped at the door to look at the spectacle within. My husband, my exquisite, polished husband, was sitting on a hard wooden chair, the skirts of his coat disposed any old way, his daughter in his arms. My vociferous nephews and nieces surrounded him, and he was smiling.

  He looked up when he realised we were there, and I came across to join him. “Come to rescue me?” he pleaded, laughing.

  “You’re managing very well on your own.” I bent down to give Helen a kiss. She was a beautiful child. Her eyes were as blue as her father’s but her hair had grown dark like mine, so she had some of both of us in her. She was six months old now, sitting up on her own, burbling her delightful language when the fancy took her. I savoured the feel of her soft, scented baby skin under my lips, but I didn’t take her up. She was happy with my husband.

  My oldest nephew, Walter, a sturdy boy of eleven, hastily sketched a bow when he remembered his manners. “She’s my cousin, isn’t she, Auntie Rose?”

  “She’s your cousin,” I confirmed gravely.

  “She’s very pretty.”

  “We think so.”

  He studied the baby with a seasoned eye. “If you should want me to marry her when we’re both older, I wouldn’t object.”

  This was so unexpected that Martha, Richard and I all burst into spontaneous laughter, something Walter didn’t appreciate. I forced my laughter back for his sake. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t what I expected you to say. Do you like your new house?”

  He nodded. “I didn’t like it while they were doing it. We had to go and live at Fourways for a while.” Fourways was a neat manor house, based around a medieval mansion, which currently stood vacant. “But now the hall is nearly finished, I think it’s very pleasant.”

  “You spent most of the time in London,” I pointed out.

  His face glowed as I brought the memory back, and I could see Martha’s smile reflected in him. “I like London,” he told me simply.

  “Ha,” Richard said. “A libertine in the making.”

  “Oh no!” Martha responded, right on cue, as we knew she would.

  Richard smiled. “Life is for living, dear Lady Hareton.”

  Martha tutted. “But not in that vicious way. I’d hate to see my son take that path.”

  “I think that’s why many people do it.” He turned back in time to prevent his daughter from diving off his silk-clad knees to the floor. Now that she could sit up she wanted to move about. One achievement rapidly followed another until she became a different person each day. I’d have hated to spend much time away from her.

  I watched Richard carefully right her, and this time, warned of her intentions, he kept one hand firmly about her small waist. He looked down to where my niece Mary looked up at him, and then he looked up at me and smiled. “A family trait,” he commented.

  “What is?”

  “Beautiful brown eyes.”

  I was forced to lower my gaze before I looked back at him again. “The house is lovely,” I told him, “and it was all done so quickly. Barely two years.”

  “That’s why we decided to keep the shell of the manor,” Martha said. “James disliked being away, so we decided to do the job as quickly as we could, but without compromising quality. Of course, having all the treasures brought to us from the abbey helped. They still arrive from time to time, and there are two rooms crammed with boxes we haven’t unpacked yet. You might like to help us, Rose,” she added, turning to me brightly. Once, that would have been my duty. As a dependant spinster, I’d have been condemned to live in someone else’s house, looking after their children and trying not to think of the might-have-beens.

  I smiled somewhat mechanically at Martha. “It might amuse me.”

  Martha’s brows rose in surprise, and I couldn’t understand why at first. Then I understood. Now I was her equal, and more, and encouraged to behave in a manner consequent to my new situation. I was becoming the great lady I was expected to be.

  I saw Richard’s smile as he recognised it too. He alone knew how hard I worked at being the grand lady of fashion. The only people who didn’t notice were the children, and one of them was tugging in a most undignified way at my arm. “Auntie Rose, Lord Strang says you were held up on the road,” Walter said, his eyes shining with excitement. “He wouldn’t tell me what he was like. Will you, please?” He looked up at me, pleading filling his face. “Please?” he repeated.

  Despite my better judgement, I gave in to what he wanted. “He was muffled up in a greatcoat and we couldn’t see anything but his eyes. He had at least six pistols in his belt and a great sword by his side. He held two more guns and he demanded all our valuables.”

  I had Walter’s attention now. He stared at me, wide-eyed. “Did you give him all of them?”

  “No,” I answered. “My diamonds were hidden in the coach, but he didn’t find them.”

  “You didn’t tell him? He might have killed you.” The thrilling thought was almost choking my bloodthirsty nephew.

  “They’re not really my diamonds; they’re a family set.”

  “They’re yours,” Richard put in firmly. “Given to you freely.”

  I smiled at him. “Can I give them to the poor?”

  “If you like.”

  “Your mother wouldn’t appreciate that.”

  “They’re not her diamonds.”

  I wouldn’t take the chance. Besides, I loved the jewels and I’d rather give the money to the poor instead. I smiled and reached my hand out to him. He took it briefly in an intimate gesture that would have been beyond him when we first met.

  All this passed my nephew by. “I’d have been a highwayman if I’d been allowed.”

  Richard gave Walter his attention. “They don’t last long. Most of them are finished by the time they reach their mid-twenties, usually on the gallows. Best stick to what you know, Walter.”

  “I suppose you’re right, sir,” Walter reluctantly admitted. “But didn’t you dream of it when you were my age?”

  “I dreamed of many things,” Richard said quietly. “But I knew what I was to be.”

  Martha exchanged a glance with me, but I wouldn’t let her see any change in my expression. My first loyalty was to my husband. “I can’t imagine you as anything else.”

&n
bsp; He smiled. “I wanted to be an adventurer once, and I nearly gave my father a heart attack when I told him I wanted to join the army.”

  I suspected Richard had done it merely to shock, and not with any serious intent. People found it hard to read my husband, but I knew him well enough by now to know what he was thinking by the merest glance. He’d let me in.

  Chapter Three

  The following evening we were invited to Peacocks to have dinner with Tom and his bride-to-be. I was nervous. Tom had declared his love for me when we were in a difficult situation and when I was already deeply in love with Richard. I hoped so much that he had found someone he could truly love.

  Richard came into my room as I was getting ready. Despite the fact that he was always beautifully turned out, he accomplished this very quickly when he wished to, and was often ready before me. Of course, it helped that his valet was one of the best and knew Richard very well.

  He’d dressed with his usual care. Gold embroidery gleamed on his white waistcoat and brilliants glittered, echoing the diamond pin at his throat holding the folds of his neckcloth firm. He wore green velvet tonight, while I’d chosen a yellow brocade gown with a cream silk petticoat. I had a diamond and topaz parure, and I’d left my hair unpowdered.

  Once I’d have been afraid and shy, seeing Richard in his evening finery, but now I was just pleased to see him. These days I always saw the inner man, as he’d promised me once that I would.

  Richard handed me a letter. “It’s from Tom. If you choose not to go tonight, we can say you’re ill.”

  I took the note from him, wondering what could keep me away tonight. I wanted to see Tom again; I’d missed his friendly companionship. I soon found out.

  My lord,

  I’m taking the liberty of addressing this to you, as I do not want to disturb Rose. If you choose not to come tonight I’ll understand, and I’ll bring Barbara to meet you privately whenever you wish.

 

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