Summerset Abbey

by Brown, T. J.

  Lord Billingsly tipped his hat to her. “Good morning, Miss Tate.”

  “Good morning, Lord Billingsly.” She felt her cheeks flush, then glanced back at the house.

  “No one can see us from here if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  She swallowed. “Of course not.”

  There was a long pause. “Are you going to town? May I give you a lift?”

  She squirmed inside as she remembered how she’d scurried away into the servants’ door the last time she’d seen him. At the same time she was annoyed by her reaction to him. She was finally getting out of the house and here he was, his very handsome presence making her feel self-conscious. “Yes, I am going to town, but I am perfectly capable of walking there. In fact, I’ll enjoy the exercise. Good day, sir.”

  She turned left and resolutely walked down the road.

  “Miss Tate?”

  She stopped and closed her eyes for a moment. Somehow she had known that wouldn’t be the end of it. “Yes, Lord Billingsly?” she asked without turning.

  “Are you planning on walking all the way to London? Because Summerset is the other direction.”

  Of course it was. The absurdity of the situation hit her and laughter bubbled out of her before she could stop it. It was the first time she’d laughed so freely since Sir Philip died. The thought pained her, but it didn’t stop the laughter. When his laugh, warm and rich, joined hers, she finally turned. Oh, what would be the harm in joining him? Her sensible side knew the answer to that. In her position, there could be quite a bit of harm, but recklessly she ignored the risk. “Lord Billingsly, I would very much like a ride to town.”

  He leapt out of the touring motorcar and opened her door for her. Once he had climbed back inside, he rooted around in the backseat and then handed her a dust blanket.

  “No reason to get your fine dress muddy or dusty.”

  She tucked the blanket around her dress and they took off, heading the right direction into town.

  “So Miss Tate. You’re rather the mystery girl, aren’t you?” His tone was light and Prudence snuck a glance at him.

  His bowler hat tilted slightly to one side and his dark hair curled over the collar of his suit in the back. In profile, she could see that his mouth curled slightly at the corners, as if he could find the humorous side of anything. “Trust me, Lord Billingsly, there is nothing mysterious about me whatsoever.”

  “I beg to differ. The first time I met you, I couldn’t get two words from you, though that was understandable considering the circumstances. I met you again last night and you were wearing a uniform and were a bit, how shall I say it, aggressive? Now this morning, you’re a different girl altogether. See? Mystery.”

  His eyes squinted in a smile and Prudence relaxed. Something kind in his expression put her at ease. “All of those things can be explained, Lord Billingsly.”

  “I would be pleased if you could enlighten me, Miss Tate.”

  A smile played about her lips. It was so nice to be riding along in a motorcar with a handsome young man teasing her. As if she were a normal young woman. Prudence knew that all hell would break loose if Mrs. Harper or, heaven forbid, Lady Summerset found out, but at the moment she didn’t care.

  “I think I’ll keep the mystery alive a bit longer. I’ve never been considered mysterious before, and I must say I rather like it.”

  “Fair enough. But do me the honor of answering me one question. I did give you a ride to town, after all.”

  The town was just ahead of them. Prudence gave him a sidelong look. “I guess that depends on the question, Lord Billingsly.”

  “Wherever did you get that hat?”

  Her mouth dropped open for a moment and then she laughed. “I didn’t take you for the velvet beret type, but if you must know, I bought it from Caroline Reboux’s new shop on Bond Street.”

  “My little sister thanks you,” he said pointedly. “Now, do you think this town has a teahouse where we could get a cup of tea? That is if you would care to join me in a cup of tea.” He pulled the motorcar over and regarded her steadily, his dark eyes asking a question she dare not answer.

  Her pulse kicked up a notch before she reined it in. Despite her sudden desire to spend more time in his company, Prudence knew that tea with Lord Billingsly would not be a good idea. “I’m not sure if there is a teahouse or not, Lord Billingsly, but we cannot have tea. Not only because I have many errands before returning to the house, but because I’m not sure having tea together would accomplish anything except to cause trouble.”

  She took the dust blanket off her knees and folded it.

  “But why would a simple cup of tea cause trouble, Miss Tate?”

  She gave him a half smile. “I think you know the answer to that. Thank you for the ride into town. I do hope your sister enjoys her beret.”

  “I don’t really have a sister,” he said quickly as she opened the door.

  She stepped down out of the motorcar and looked up at him. His dark eyes were suddenly serious. “Then why did you want to know where I got my hat?” she asked.

  He smiled and she noticed he had very straight white teeth. “Because I knew you wouldn’t answer anything else.” Prudence couldn’t help but smile back, though she quickly tried to hide her expression.

  “Very astute. Thank you again for the ride,” she said matter-of-factly.

  She turned away and hurried down the sidewalk, trying to look as if she knew where she was going, which she most emphatically did not. She half wished she’d taken him up on having tea with him in any one of the tea shops that lined the street. But no. What was that old saying about borrowing trouble? Resolutely, she turned her attention to her surroundings.

  The footman, Andrew, had it right. Even though she’d never been there before, she could see that Summerset was burgeoning with a sense of its own dawning importance. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the tiny two-street village she’d hoped for—it would have been so much easier to find news of her family if that were the case. She supposed she could have asked one of the other servants, but she felt embarrassed to admit that she had no idea who her family was.

  She looked around for a dry goods store, or perhaps a clothing store where she wouldn’t feel too out of place asking whether anyone knew any Tates.

  A far as she could tell, the old side of town lay to the north and the new part stretched out south and west toward the hills. She headed toward the older side, figuring that if there were any Tates, they would probably have been there for quite some time. Of course, knowing only one of her family names was just another obstacle in a whole line of them.

  She glanced at the people bustling past her. Women in shapeless, old-fashioned gowns and shawls walked side by side with young women in trimmer, modern dresses that barely skimmed their ankles. There were few motorcars on this side of town and more horse-drawn carts.

  She rounded a corner and spotted a shabby old library across the street, flanked by a boardinghouse and a laundry. The acrid scent of strong washing powder mixed with that of the horse dung in the street, but she didn’t care. No doubt this was the only library in Summerset, and considering how much her mother enjoyed reading, chances were she came here for her books.

  Prudence hurried across the street. The wooden door creaked as she opened it and she wondered how many people actually came here every day. The inside was dim, depending on several gas lamps and the dingy front window for light. The shelves were surprisingly tidy, with the books stacked across them in neat rows. A door set on several wooden boxes served as a desk in the back of the room, and an old man sat behind it, looking at her expectantly.

  He wore no hat, and his head shone baldly pink in the dim light. White, bushy eyebrows sat over his eyes like a conjoined pair of fuzzy caterpillars. He probably had more hair in his eyebrows than on his entire head. He put his finger on the big book he had propped in front of him and smiled. “May I help you?”

  “Yes, actually.” Now that she was really here
looking for her family, nerves bounced in her stomach.

  He beamed. “And exactly what kind of book were you looking for?”

  “I’m not actually looking for a book. I’m looking for some information.”

  His face fell. “Well, if you need directions you can ask anyone on the street.”

  “Actually, I’m looking for information on a person.”

  “Oh.” He looked slightly mollified by this unusual request. “I’m not sure how I can help.”

  She smiled apologetically. “You see, I’ve always thought that librarians have their fingers on the pulse of everything that happens in a town.”

  He brightened at this for a moment and then looked at her glumly. “Well, that used to be so, miss, but not anymore. Seems like the young people aren’t interested in books. It’s all motorcars, aeroplanes, and telephones now. I’ve been in this library since it began thirty-five years ago and I’ve never had so few patrons.” His face fell into sorrowful lines.

  Prudence felt a stirring of excitement. If he’d been here that long, he’d have to have known her mother. “I love books,” she assured him. “Next time I will see what you have, but today, I am looking to find someone.”

  He sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “I am looking for information about a family called Tate.” It shamed her that she didn’t know her mother’s maiden name or her father’s first name. How could she find out anything without those two simple names? Her stomach sank. “Or perhaps a girl who grew up around here about twenty-five, thirty years ago. Her name was Alice?”

  The change that came over the man was astonishing. His face shuttered like bay windows awaiting a storm. “I’m sorry. I know no one by that name.” He cast his eyes downward.

  “Are you sure?” she pressed. “I know—”

  “I’m very sure. Now if you will excuse me, miss. I am closing up now for lunch. A man has to eat.” He arose from his chair and, with a firm hand on her elbow, ushered her out the door.

  Moments later she stood on the sidewalk as the man pulled the curtains across the front window.

  CHAPTER

  NINE

  Rowena lounged back on the chaise, waiting for tea to be served and thanking God that her cousin Colin and his friends had come to visit when they did. Her aunt kept making little comments about her disappearance the other day and Rowena didn’t want to talk about her experience with anyone other than Victoria. Somehow very nearly being hit by an aeroplane and saving a pilot’s life didn’t seem like polite dinner conversation. Plus, it went deeper than that. The time she sat with the injured pilot on the side of the hill seemed more real than anything else since her father died. Her time at Summerset seemed fuzzy and tinged with gray, while every moment from the aeroplane crash to carting the pilot up the hillside seemed infused with color. She didn’t want to share that with anyone because no one could understand.

  Across the sitting room, her aunt held court, flanked by her daughter and her son. Uncle Conrad was nowhere in evidence, having gone to inspect some properties earlier in the morning.

  Remembering how taken Lord Billingsly had seemed with Prudence, she observed him discreetly. There was no doubt he was exceedingly handsome with his dark curls and dark eyes, but Rowena had never trusted handsome men, especially those among the peerage. They always seemed to be too full of their own sense of self-importance. No doubt brought on by doting mothers, she thought, as her aunt stared adoringly at her son. But there was little in Lord Billingsly’s mannerisms to suggest conceit. On the contrary, his mouth seemed to indicate a sense of humor and he behaved very politely to everyone he met, including the servants.

  Unlike the other friend Colin had brought home. Kip? Kit? Whatever it was. Another handsome young man, tall and well built, with dark, ginger-colored hair and blue eyes. His nose was crooked and he seemed older than the other two young men, but that wasn’t what Rowena objected to, it was his barely concealed amusement at everyone and everything around him. It was disconcerting to meet someone and get the sneaking suspicion that he was laughing at you.

  Victoria sat close to Elaine, looking more rested in spite of her outing last night. Where had she gone? Victoria had refused to tell her and Rowena hadn’t pressed her. It was enough that Victoria acted as though she felt better.

  At least someone was feeling better. Rowena found herself avoiding Prudence, because she just felt so helpless about the situation, about everything, it made her hurt just to think about it. She was by turns frustrated by her apathy and resigned to it. She had the knowledge of her own cowardice, but couldn’t seem to overcome it. She hated conflict, and the thought of confronting her uncle made her skin crawl with apprehension. She envied Victoria her unassailable confidence that she could change things by the force of her own will. Where did that come from?

  The footmen rolled in the tea carts loaded with delicate treats, from an ornate platter filled with the customary watercress and cucumber sandwiches to a Herculean platter of savory ham and beef sandwiches, no doubt in concession to the young men in attendance. Scones with jam and clotted cream were plentiful, of course, along with sponge cakes, biscuits, and chocolate-covered strawberries, pickled kippers, and hard-boiled eggs. After everyone had been seated at a round table near a bay window, Aunt Charlotte turned to Elaine.

  “Elaine, darling, would you please do us the honor of pouring tea?”

  “Of course, Mother.”

  Rowena intercepted an amused glance between Elaine and Colin and wondered what it meant.

  “Sebastian, my dear boy, tell me, how is your mother?”

  “She is doing well. Thank you, Lady Summerset.”

  “And I trust you will both be coming for the holidays?”

  “We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  Rowena caught another volley of amused glances, this time involving Lord Billingsly. Victoria’s forehead furrowed and Rowena knew her little sister had caught some odd undercurrents as well.

  “I do hope you young people won’t be bored out here in the country. Elaine and I are planning some small gatherings, and of course our servants’ ball is always amusing. We will also be having a New Year’s Eve ball and I’m sure that will be delightful. Elaine is so good at that sort of thing, Lord Billingsly.”

  “Oh, Mother, you flatter me.”

  Rowena hid a smile at the tone of Elaine’s voice, so demure and grateful and altogether false.

  Aunt Charlotte tilted her head as if she’d caught something, too, but wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. “Nonsense,” she said sharply. Then she smiled as if to soften her brusque tone. “You are a very accomplished young woman.” She stared hard at both Lord Billingsly and Kit. They avoided her gaze.

  “So where did you disappear to this morning, Billingsly?” Colin asked.

  “I had an errand to attend to.” Lord Billingsly spread jam on a scone so nonchalantly that Rowena was instantly suspicious.

  “An errand in that little town?” Kit’s voice held amusement. “Whatever could there be to do in Summerset?”

  “Oh, you’d be surprised.” He glanced toward Rowena and then reddened as if she might know something of it.

  Again with the double meanings. Unless . . . it couldn’t have anything to do with Prudence, could it? She viewed Lord Billingsly with renewed interest.

  The rest of the tea passed without incident and the group seemed to exhale as the footmen wheeled away the carts and Aunt Charlotte returned to her boudoir.

  “Good grief, I thought she’d never leave,” Colin said, lounging back on the settee.

  “Watch your tone, young man,” Elaine said. “I’ll have you know you’re talking about my sainted mother.”

  Colin laughed. “True. Our sainted mother could flirt with our dearly departed King, outwit Confucius, and make the pope cry, all before breakfast. A most formidable woman.” He gave a mock shudder. “Do me a favor, little sister, and bring us a drink, will you?”

  “Cocktails
for everyone,” said Kit. “Since you’re so accomplished at these sorts of things, Elaine.”

  Elaine curtsied and turned to Rowena. “Would you like one, Ro? Vic?”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to tell Victoria no, but she looked so interested that Rowena didn’t have the heart to disappoint her. “Yes, please. Thank you.”

  Kit stood up to help her and they soon had glasses all around. “What shall we drink to?”

  “How about the Cunning Coterie?” Colin said, raising an eyebrow.

  “How about a reunion of the Cunning Coterie Christmas?” Elaine countered.

  “I do love me a clever alliteration,” Colin approved.

  “What’s the Cunning Coterie?” Victoria asked.

  Rowena let the warmth of the spirits lull her into even deeper listlessness, allowing her to watch the activity around her without actually participating in it. No wonder people took to drink, she thought. It was a wonderful way to dull unwanted feelings.

  “Ah, we have novices,” observed Kit.

  “Greenhorns.” Sebastian smiled.

  “Perhaps they would like to join us?” asked Elaine.

  “Would that make us Cunning Coterie Cousins?” Victoria asked with a smile.

  Colin clapped his hands. “Clever!”

  “Crafty,” added Sebastian.

  “Confusing,” Rowena roused herself to answer, and the others laughed.

  “The Cunning Coterie, as it’s most commonly known—” Kit began, sotto voce.

  “But also can be called the Corrupt Coterie or the Cosmopolitan Coterie,” Elaine interrupted.

  Kit continued as if Elaine hadn’t spoken. “Started at Kings College and has grown to include the fairer sex, because any club without women is not worth belonging to. Because there are so many of us who are pressured by well-meaning—”

  “Or not-so-well-meaning,” Colin added.

  “—relatives to attend all the same parties, balls, and sporting events, we started our own society to ward off death by boredom.”

  “But what do you do?” Rowena asked, interested but perplexed.