Sarah smiled through her tears, “Amelia, it is a wonderful present, I am crying because he knew what would please me most.”
“Well, what is it?” Ida demanded as he stepped forward.
“It’s tea!” Sarah exclaimed at last fumbling for her kerchief and was handed one by Jennings.
Sarah saw the children all exchange glances, confused. She could see they could not understand why the tea pleased her.
Sarah took a deep breath to steady her voice and blew her nose. She glanced apologetically at the regal looking Butler before she said, “When I was a little girl we lived in Ceylon. If we acquire a globe sometime, I will point it out to you. We would always have tea with every meal. They grow it there in Ceylon and there are many different kinds. The tea here in London is not the same. I remember sipping tea with my mama, my little brother and Papa. I remember them all in the best way when I am drinking tea.”
“If you will excuse me, Miss Montague and Miss Appleby, I will see if the other purchase have arrived,” Jennings bowed to each lady and walked out of the room in the direction of the tradesmen’s entrance.
Sarah looked at Amelia and shrugged her shoulders, she did not know what else there could be. Moments later Jennings reentered the room with a sack full of wooden tops and painted wooden doll parts with cloth and cotton batting for the body.
The children looked in wonderment at all of the toys. Jennings cleared his throat, “Lady Minerva sent a card.” He presented it with a flourish quite properly to Amelia as the lady of the house.
Amelia opened the envelope and read the letter.
Sarah saw Amelia blanch at the thought of such illustrious company. Sarah, even though she had met Lady Minerva and knew her to be friendly was worried about the impression the poverty stricken mission would make. She replied to Jennings, “Who else will be there at dinner?”
“Just the family,” he replied. He omitted that the family included two lords, a knight, and a sundry of other untitled gentry.
Sarah looked about at the Spartan but immaculate drawing room, she turned to her cousin, “We need to start sewing if we are to have dresses suitable for even a family dinner party.” She wondered how with all of the duties and children to supervise they were to find the time to sew.
Jennings cleared his throat, “His grace states that he is paying for the services of a cook even while his residence is being renovated and would deem it a favor if you would utilize her services.”
Both Amelia and Sarah looked upon him with suspicion.
Jennings looked at them, his expression impassive, “His grace also wishes Miss Montague would share some of her recipes with the cook, especially, potato pudding.”
Amelia and Sarah had to laugh both remembering the three helpings of pudding Marcus devoured last evening.
Chapter 12
Marcus arrived at the mission in his cousin’s curricle at eleven o’clock. He was announced to the ladies, to his surprise, in a formal fashion by Ida No.
“His grace, the Duke of Allendale,” he intoned sonorously, a perfect imitation of Marcus’ Butler, Jennings. He then ruined the affect by looking up at Marcus and whispering, “Did I do it right?”
Marcus, just before he entered the room, whispered back, “Perfect, if you were taller I would mistake you for Jennings.” When he walked into the room he saw his fiancée standing on a stool. Her cousin and two of the older girls were pinning and sewing the hem of a lavender gown edged in black.
Amelia looked at the boy and said exasperated, “You are supposed to find out if we are at home.”
He looked puzzled, “Of course we are at home, where else would we be?”
Amelia closed her eyes for patience, “At home to visitors. We don’t have visitors when we are dressmaking in the parlor!”
One of the girls rolled her eyes at the other one. Sarah smiled at them, “He is not used to being in elevated company, girls. I am not terribly sure I am either.”
“Pardon my male ignorance but don’t you usually do that in the sewing room?” Marcus asked curiously.
“We turned it into Miss Sarah’s room, Your Grace,” one of the girls volunteered. “It was the only room left and the bed takes up nearly the whole room.”
Amelia looked apologetically at Sarah, “It’s a cot really.”
Sarah shrugged, “It is far from the worst place I have slept, and much better than most.”
“Miss Sarah, you are harder to keep still than Rose!” the other girl exclaimed. “We are not going to get these hems even if you don’t stop twitching.”
“I approve of you coming out of blacks, but I could have taken you to a dressmaker,” four sets of censorious eyes glared at him as he spoke. He quickly tried to correct himself, “Not that this is not stylish or well made, I am sure you ladies have other things to do-”
“Your Grace, I can only take gifts of clothing from a close relative,” Sarah said trying to keep her body as still as possible so that the hem could be finally finished. “Amelia, have we introduced Alyce and Cassandra to his grace?” deftly changing the subject when he would have protested.
Amelia smiled at Marcus who was out of his depth with so many females in the room, “Your Grace, I hope you will forgive us not making our curtsies to you, we are almost finished with this gown and Sarah has to wear it this evening at your aunt’s house for dinner.”
Alyce made one final stitch in the hem, “Miss Sarah, can you carefully turn around so that I can see if it is hanging right?” Sarah complied and the two girls made some quick adjustments. “There, I don’t think our mother could have done any better, Cassie.”
Amelia turned to Marcus, “Cassandra and Alyce are orphans of a London seamstress. She came to Ambrose and I and asked that we take the girls when she knew she was dying. I must say they are worth their weight in gold. They hope to open their own shop one day.” She glanced back at Cassandra and Alyce, “Girls, please help Miss Sarah change to another gown so that I can take a flat iron to the hem before she wears it this evening.”
After the three left the room Amelia said, “It is fortuitous that you are here now. Ambrose was just saying this morning at breakfast that he needed to talk to you. Your abbreviated courtship of our cousin is troubling to us both.”
Marcus said with a smile, “I am pleased with your concern for your cousin, but there is no need. I have grown fond of your cousin Sarah and mean to make her my Duchess.”
“That is just the point,” said a masculine voice from the doorway. Ambrose Appleby entered the room, “We love Sarah, but she is the grandchild of a country squire and the daughter of a common soldier. She is not suitable for a man in your position.”
“I know Sarah has some severe misgivings,” Amelia said wringing her hands. “Do realize how lonely she would be, she would be shunned, especially by those whose daughters you passed over in her favor…”
“I know nothing about you, Your Grace,” Ambrose said seriously. “I am worried about who would be able or inclined to help Sarah should you be cruel to her. Enough people turn a blind eye when a nobleman is abusive to a wife of equal station.” Ambrose held up his hand when Marcus would have spoken. “What is the reason for the haste in this marriage? I know she is not with child.”
Amelia squeaked a protest at such plain speaking, “Ambrose!“
“Really, Amelia, do you realize how many females reside here?” Ambrose shook his head, “A man would be deaf, dumb and blind not to notice things. I am not as obtuse as all of you think. Now, Your Grace, I know a solicitor who will look out for Sarah’s interests in case of separation or your demise. I want Sarah to have a roof over her head and a yearly allowance of £250.”
Marcus was aghast at the piddling sum. He knew his cousin Beatrice spent more at the dressmaker’s just last week. Ambrose mistook his expression, “I know it is a princely sum but she will need it to keep body and soul together if you should happen to die. And, furthermore, this is in addition to a cottage and land deeded over
to her.”
Marcus smiled and said, “We will let the solicitors get everything settled. I really wanted to speak to you, sir, about officiating at our nuptials. I am sure Sarah will want all of the children in attendance.”
Sarah reentered the room in a lavender walking dress, “Amelia, I feel like a doll! Alyce and Cassandra are regular little martinets. They insisted that I had to wear this walking gown…they were sure his grace was going to take me for an outing.”
Amelia smiled at her cousin, “Oh, don’t complain, those girls are finally getting over their grief. That dress looks lovely on you, dear. I believe they copied it from La Belle Assemble.”
“Those young ladies do have the right of it…we are going to head over to the townhouse to see how the workman are doing,” he said adjusting his gloves. “I also have some wall decorations that I do not have the slightest interest in choosing. My aunt told me that as my fiancée it is your duty to me to take such worries off of my hands.”
Sarah looked slighted alarmed, “As a worldly woman of the Ton, I would think that your aunt would be the best person to advise you on the decorations for a fashionable London home.”
“My guess is that you asked your aunt to help you and she said she would not dare attempt to decorate another woman’s future home,” Ambrose said astutely to the astonishment of his female relations. Marcus could see the twin looks of sheer amazement on both ladies’ faces. “What? Amelia, I keep telling you I am occupied with spiritual matters not preoccupied.”
Marcus saw Amelia and Sarah share a disbelieving glance and wisely ignored them. “You actually have it partially right. I was complaining about all of the details at breakfast this morn and my good aunt suggested that I delegate to Sarah,” he smoothly said with a smile.
Sarah protested, “But Your Grace—“
“Marcus,” he interjected.
Sarah gritted her teeth, “Your Grace—“
Marcus stepped over to her and whispered in her ear, “You either call me Marcus, or I will embrace you so passionately your cousins will not question my wishes for a speedy wedding.”
He saw Sarah’s face flush a dull red as she compromised by not using his title or name, “As I was trying to say: I know nothing of fashionable ways.”
Marcus raised his eyebrows mentally promising himself a suitable forfeit for her in the near future. Her cousins were looking concerned. “As the Duchess of Allendale you are not a slave to fashion. You will set the fashion,” he said benignly.
“But Y-“ At Marcus warning look she amended herself hurriedly, “But, Marcus, what if you hate my choices?”
“You made your father a comfortable home in the tail of an army, if you run into trouble you can ask my aunt Minerva,” he shrugged unconcerned. “So long as it doesn’t look like Carlton House with all of the gold brick-a-brack or Newgate prison we will be fine.”
He turned to his host and hostess and bowed, “Miss Appleby, Reverend Appleby, I will have Sarah returned to you in time enough to change to her gown for tea with my aunt.” He tucked Sarah’s hand into the crook of his arm and strode from the room and out the door to his cousin’s curricle. Sarah had barely enough time to snag her bonnet and settle it on her head.
The high spirited matched pair of chestnut horses was being ably held by William. Marcus flipped the lad a coin after he handed Sarah into the vehicle. William snatched the coin expertly with one hand as he held the horses with the other. After they were both seated in the curricle Marcus nodded to William and he released the horses.
***
The carriage, which was a sporty curricle, bowled along the streets near the mission. Sarah noted that the bench was much narrower than most vehicles to which she was accustomed. Marcus skillfully took the corners at a spanking pace. Sarah was flung up against Marcus. Her gloved hand touched his sinewy thigh and as she felt his muscles tighten in reaction she quickly pulled her hand back. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Marcus lips twitch with amusement as he again deftly turned a corner at a fast pace. This time Sarah slid along the seat her leg coming in intimate contact with his. Sarah’s leg felt like it was scorched where it came in contact with his—even through several layers of clothing. Her face flushed red and she determinedly pulled herself away from him and attempted to attain a firm grasp on the side of the seat. She knew Marcus was doing this on purpose and she had no intention of acknowledging her discomfort. The firmly maintained distance, strangely enough, made Sarah even more aware of Marcus just a few inches along the seat. By the time Marcus turned into a lane behind a set of stately older Mansions, Sarah felt as though her whole body was tingling with sensual warmth. Marcus jumped down from the carriage as an older man limped out of the stables and held the horse. Sarah held out her hand so that she too could lightly jump to the ground.
Marcus smiled as he bypassed her hand and grasped her waist. He slowly lowered her to the ground. Sarah, as soon as her feet touched, attempted to put distance between them. Marcus was having none of that as he took her arm and walked with her to the man holding the horses.
Marcus spoke to Sarah, “My dear, you may remember Jessup? He was one of the riflemen with the seventy third. I hired him on as staff since we have the little problem with someone trying to do me harm. I hired a few other old soldiers as well. I am not terribly trusting of anybody who might be a chance hire here in London.”
Sarah was immediately chagrined at being so lost in her feelings that she forgot the attempt on their lives yesterday. She was going to have to find out more as soon as she could once again be private with Marcus. She was mentally kicking herself for wasting the drive over here by not asking Marcus about the incident. Now was not the time she told herself and with determination she focused her attention at the former soldier and forced a smile, “Oh, of course, I remember you Jessup! How is your son?”
A smile lit the grizzled old soldier’s face, “My boy be over at a friend of the Captain’s…I mean his grace’s…”
He gave a worried look to Marcus who smiled ruefully and said, “It will take some work to remember the title, Jessup. I still look around for my great uncle when someone announces the Duke of Allendale. In fact, I am a little gratified that you still think of me as Captain Derning…I earned that title, the ducal approbation is merely an accident of birth.”
With an effort the man said, “Your Grace, you still want me to take this vehicle back to your cousin? I know you said the new carriage and team was being delivered today, but it is not here yet.”
“Yes, Jessup, go ahead and take it back to my cousin and take a hack back here to wait for the delivery,” Marcus replied. Sarah looked up at the large house and said hesitantly “Marcus, who is here at the house? I know we are supposed to be betrothed—“
“Not supposed to be, we are betrothed,” Marcus interrupted with a frown.
Sarah still had private reservations about the engagement but let his statement stand, “I just want to know if anyone is here at the house; your aunt, cousin or even a few maidservants?”
“Actually, there are a few servants here,” Marcus replied as he escorted her through the rear entrance past the kitchens up the hall to parlor. Sarah saw plenty of evidence of workmen but no actual workers. She looked at Marcus with apprehension. “Ah, here we are,” he said as they strolled into the parlor.
Awaiting them was a dapper older man who had various style books spread out on the few tables set up in the room. The man looked up from his fabric samples expectantly at the couple.
“Marcus, who is this gentleman?” Sarah asked worriedly.
Marcus introduced him absently, “My dear, this is Mr. Phillips, of Phillips Fine Accessories. My aunt uses his services whenever she must redecorate. Mr. Phillips, this is Miss Montague, the future Duchess of Allendale. You are to take all of your instructions from her and anyone she designates.” Marcus turned back to her, “I rely on your good sense and judgment, but my aunt said that you and your cousin Miss Appleby might have fun together
choosing things. If you will excuse me, I need to see to a few things.” Marcus left the room heading in the direction of the kitchen. Sarah who had been hoping to put a little distance between them, contrarily felt oddly bereft as she gazed after Marcus.
“Miss Montague, I just need a few preferences from you. Would you want the Egyptian motif in your public rooms? It’s very popular right now,” Mr. Phillips said expectantly drawing Sarah’s attention to him.
Sarah wrinkled her nose at the thought of wasting money on something that was such an extreme fashion. “I don’t want anything that will look out of style in a few years. I am sure his grace will agree with me when I say—“ she stammered slightly as she glanced in the direction of the door, “w-we want comfortable substantial furniture of classic design that will stand the test of time.”
The man made some notes on a piece of paper, “Yes, I see your point. I brought some color sketches of some work I have done for Lady Jersey. His Grace told me you had been to his aunt’s residence as well. Lady Jersey’s residence is decorated in the Egyptian motif. She redecorated right after her wedding and then again just recently when she was confined to her bed prior to the birth of her son.”
Sarah looked at the designs and saw that the man was very talented indeed, “I see you incorporated the current style in such a way that the crocodile sofa and the sphinx tables are very subtle and would not look out of place if the style suddenly shifted to a Chinese style. I prefer the style you did for Lady Minerva though. I want sturdy, but graceful furniture, classic in style so that when the fabrics start showing wear I can just replace them.”
“Very good, Miss Montague,” he said thoughtfully. “I will have some sketches made up…what are your preferred colors?”
“I think maybe blue for the morning room and green for the formal parlor. I have several pieces of Jade from my mother that I want to display to advantage,” Sarah said firmly. Maybe she was starting to accept that she would marry Marcus. Heaven knows she wanted to marry him.
Only In Her Dreams Page 9