Dressing was accomplished in silence, Michelle leaving the dressing screen to enquire of a footman standing sentry at the steps as to the whereabouts of the Duchess’s breakfast then turning to discover Antonia off across the damp lawn in a flurry of silk pantaloons and undressed hair.
“Mema! Mema! Up here! Mema! Look up! Look up. Up here!”
Antonia had a hand to her brow to shield her eyes from the morning sun filtering through the tangled branches of the ancient oak tree as she came to stand with a small contingent of nursery maids and servants gathered about its massive trunk. All turned and dropped a curtsey or bowed in acknowledgment of her presence but as she continued to stare up into the tree branches all chins again turned skywards to the heavy armed boughs bursting with bright green leaves and twisting up and out, embracing land, water and sky. A majestic specimen, the ancient oak had grown undisturbed for three hundred years, silent witness to Plantagenet, Tudor, Stuart and Hanoverian Kings, and now its branches were full of people and construction, or so it seemed to Antonia, who was trying to make sense of the activity and noise.
From the exposed gnarled roots close to the base of the enormous trunk a ladder allowed access to the lowest thick bough upon which there was now a platform that had upon it the quarterdeck of a sailing vessel—as if it had been lifted up there in a flood, and now the waters had receded the ship had broken up and only this part remained lodged, forever trapped, held captive by the branches of the old oak. And from the quarterdeck another ladder, nailed to the central trunk led further up into the higher branches to a crow’s nest. Two workmen were busy painting this crow’s nest while two more of their fellows sat swinging their legs on a lower branch, rigging rope from the crow’s nest down to the quarter deck where another workman threaded brass toggles.
And so the old oak, which had minded its own business for three centuries, had been imposed upon, transformed into a most wondrous pirate ship tree house for children.
The twins, who continued to call out until Antonia waved in acknowledgment, beamed down at her from the quarterdeck. They wore requisite tri-corn hats, eye patches and brandished wooden toy swords. With them was the architect of their happiness who waved down to her, Juliana in his arms.
She waved back, smiling, and blew them kisses, feeling suddenly light headed with happiness. And before she could utter a word of welcome there was a great deal of scrambling about as the twins scampered down the ladder, swords tucked into the waistband of their breeches, servants at the base of the steps ready to catch an over eager little lord should he put a foot wrong. But they made it to solid ground with ease and fell into Antonia’s outstretched arms to be hugged and kissed and to tell her in a rush of excitement about their new pirate ship in the sky and that Mema must come on a voyage with them when they took on the dastardly Spaniards. Antonia barely managed to say two words to Louis and Gus before Juliana had a fistful of the billowy silk of her Turkish trousers and was demanding to be acknowledged and for Mema to tell her brothers that girls could be pirates if they wanted to be, even if she wished to be a mermaid instead.
“So that’s what you look like first thing in the morning,” Jonathon stated, smiling down at her with a wink. “Very fetching.”
To Antonia’s utter disbelief and annoyance she blushed and could not meet his steady gaze. She looked about, at the small knot of servants and then at the workmen who continued on with their multitude of tasks to ready the pirate tree house for occupation—paint, soft furnishings, canvas and rope were going up and down the various ladders.
“Now I know the source of the noise over the past sennight,” she said with a smile at her grandchildren. “But never would I have expected to find a pirate ship in a tree! What a wonderful surprise for you, yes?” She glanced up at Jonathon. “M’sieur Strang he is full of surprises, is he not?”
The children nodded and giggled, the twins jostling each other with a conspiratorial look at Jonathon, but Antonia was not given the opportunity to question them because one nod from Jonathon and they turned and scampered back up the ladder into the tree house, Juliana running after them but stopped from going after her brothers by her nurse. The little girl immediately called out for Jonathon, who in two strides had her in his arms.
“I see Julie she has you wrapped around her little finger,” Antonia quipped with a laugh.
“Only because I want to be wrapped,” he responded. “Now up you go and we’ll follow.”
“Up? Up the ladder?”
“Where else?” When Antonia hesitated he added, “You have no excuse. I’ve covered the—um—contingencies, as it were. You’re wearing Turkish trousers, aren’t you? And there’s a surprise waiting for you on board ship.”
“You have a nice turn of phrase, M’sieur,” Antonia muttered, feeling heat in her cheeks at his spreading smile. “Perhaps I should not have mentioned I like surprises,” she added, climbing the ladder with ease and without complaint, Jonathon with the little girl clinging to his back as a baby monkey does its mother following close behind. “Particularly if your surprise it has anything to do with the wearing of Turkish trousers!”
“Mema!”
At the sound of a familiar beloved voice, Antonia scrambled onto the ship’s deck and to her feet and found all three of her grandsons standing before her in a row saluting her with their swords.
“Mon Dieu! Frederick! Oh! My darling boy!”
“Surprise! Surprise, Mema! Surprise!” the twins and Juliana shouted in unison as their eldest brother ran into Antonia’s open arms to be gathered up in a tight embrace.
“Mema has her surprise; can we eat now?” Gus asked no one in particular. “My tummy is angry with me!”
Everyone laughed. Once returned to solid ground and sitting on a scatter of oriental carpets that had been rolled out over the lawn between the oak and the lake and strewn with cushions, Jonathon nodded to the waiting footmen who commenced serving nuncheon from wicker baskets filled with all manner of delectable pastries; the butler arriving with silver service coffee pot and a sealed missive from the big house. It was from the Duke and for the Dowager Duchess. Antonia took the note, put it in a pocket of her Turkish trousers and ignored it until about an hour after the food had been demolished and she was enjoying a leisurely cup of coffee while watching the boys being supervised as they climbed up and down the ladder to access the pirate ship tree house where they practiced their sword fighting skills and Juliana was picking wildflowers for her hair with the help of her nurse.
She extracted the note from her pocket but did not immediately break the seal, looking across at Jonathon who was comfortably sprawled out across the carpet, propped up on an elbow, and also watching the children, but whose hands were busy deftly braiding multiple strands of fine red cotton twine into what appeared to be a circlet.
“I have had such a wonderful day. Thank you.”
“It was my pleasure,” he said gently, returning her smile.
She wondered if her smile had the power to quicken his pulse as his did hers and she looked down at the last drop of coffee in her porcelain dish, lest he read her thoughts and see the blush to her cheeks. Inexplicably he had the ability to make her feel unsure and confused and yet also supremely happy. It baffled her. There was a word... Unsettled? Flustered? Yes, that was it! He unsettled her. In all her years with Monseigneur she had never felt unsettled, and that also bewildered her.
She turned her son’s letter over and with a small sigh broke the seal.
Jonathon continued to braid but with one eye on Antonia’s bowed head, and when she quickly folded the single sheet of parchment and thrust it back in her pocket he said as casually as he could muster, “Good news, I trust?”
“He tells me to come to dinner tonight. Tells me.”
“Will you go?”
She shook her head. “No. No, I do not think I can face him... yet.”
Jonathon sat up. “Then don’t. Roxton can wait. Come to London with me.”
“London
?”
“Yes.”
“You are going to London? When?”
Jonathon suppressed a smile at the anxiousness in her voice and said solemnly, “Tomorrow. I must.”
Antonia could not meet his brown eyes. She nodded. “Of course you must. Sarah-Jane she will be expecting you and you cannot linger here. She may have some very important news for her papa and you should—”
“Come with me.”
Antonia smiled crookedly.
“To see M’sieur Sheridan’s play with you?”
Jonathon shrugged.
“If you like. But to see your son Henri-Antoine.”
This did make her look at him.
“Henri? He is in London? He is not up at Oxford?”
“He is in London. At the Hanover Square house.”
Antonia swallowed and looked towards the lake. “I very much want to see my son but I-I...”
“You’ve been avoiding him because he has a great look of Monseigneur and that pains you.”
Antonia did not deny this. She blinked away sudden tears.
“You have seen him.”
“Yes. He resembles his father greatly, more so than Roxton. And from what your daughter-in-law tells me he has his father’s arrogant demeanor as well, though he did not try it on with me, but that also makes it all the more difficult for you. But you cannot avoid him forever and the older he gets the more he will become his father’s son.”
“I do not want to listen to you because you are making perfect sense!” she grumbled which made him laugh.
“Someone had to tell you, sweetheart. It’s not the boy’s fault he’s the image of his pater.”
She looked at him through her lashes. “No. It’s not his fault. Me I have been a neglectful mother.”
“Roxton has more to answer for neglect. He is his brother’s guardian. Not that the lad has been forgotten,” he added quickly when Antonia sat up very straight. “Roxton’s had a lot on his plate these past three years. But to be perfectly frank, after years of being unnecessarily coddled, I think the lad has enjoyed the respite.”
“Coddled? Henri said this to you?”
“Of course not. Why would he?”
There was a moment of quiet between them and then Antonia shuddered a breath and shrugged. “I do not know how you know these things but you do and you are in the right. And I do so want to see my little boy.”
Jonathon huffed. “Little? If that’s what you think you’re in for a shock.” He set aside the braided circlet, got to his feet and put out a hand. “And your visit will surprise and delight him. Come to London.”
She smiled and nodded and allowed him to help her to her feet. He did not let go of her hand. She looked up at him cheekily, a hand on his chest.
“But that does not mean I have decided to go to the theater with you!”
“Will you not?” he threatened and in one easy movement picked her up and slung her over a shoulder, much to the startled horror of footmen, butler and nursery servants alike. “Time to put those Turkish trousers to use again!”
“Mon Dieu! Are you insane! Put me down this instant!”
The butler and a footman took a step forward. One dark look from Jonathon and they retreated half a step.
“Be still, woman, and we’ll be there in no time. I have one more surprise for you.”
He set off at a brisk pace towards the oak with a wriggling and affronted Antonia doing her best to twist out of his hold. He chuckled at her feeble attempts and teasingly let her slip further down his back. It caused her to let out an involuntary squeal and grab hold of the skirts of his frockcoat in fright. And then to add to her mortification he called out to Frederick to round up his brothers and sister and come to the oak.
“Aliéné mental! Put me down this instant!”
“A madman, am I? If I am, it is you who have made me so!”
“M’sieur! Put me down this instant! You’ll upset the children.”
“Call me Jonathon!”
“No!”
“By the grins on their faces, I’d say your little darlings think it a great lark. Fifty guineas that by midnight you’ll have called me Jonathon.”
“I will give you fifty guineas to put me down this instant!”
“Ah, Frederick! Good lad. Now the four of you stand well back because when I put Mema down she will likely be a little dizzy.”
She was and fell against Jonathon’s chest, eyes shut tight and light-headed. He gently brushed the hair from her face and held her, a wink and a smile at Frederick who, unlike his brothers and sister who were laughing at Mema’s ride on Jonathon’s shoulder, was not at all assured Antonia was unharmed by her ordeal.
“Do you want to see your surprise?” he murmured, lifting her chin. “Reason I had you dress in your captivating Ottoman attire?”
Antonia opened her eyes and he turned with her in the circle of his embrace to face the ancient oak.
They were standing on the opposite side of the massive trunk to where the pirate ship could be accessed via ladder. Here, high up, a very heavy bough twisted out towards the lake shore, and on the ground directly under the bough a great pile of leaves had been raked and stomped into place to form a nice cushion under foot because hanging from this branch was a swing. A padded seat of blue damask set in a gilt wood frame, looking suspiciously like a seat from one of the chairs to be found in the Gallery up at the big house, minus its legs and padded back, was suspended and fixed between two ropes; each rope wrapped with velvet ribbon at the place where the user held firm.
Antonia could not contain her excitement and she gasped, hands to her cheeks, and ran up to the swing to touch the damask seat as if reassuring herself it was indeed real. “Oh it is the most wondrous surprise!” she exclaimed, turning with a bright smile to Jonathon. “Is it not, mes petits-enfants? Who will have the first turn?” she asked the children.
“Julie!” Juliana exclaimed and ran up to her grandmother, expecting to be instantly lifted onto the magical floating seat.
All three boys looked to Jonathon and it was Frederick who voiced the earlier understanding the children had come to with him, “Mema is to have the first swing, Julie. Remember?”
The little girl eyed her grandmother speculatively; a finger in her mouth then shook her fair ringlets. “No. It’s Julie’s turn first.”
“Mema first, Julie, or we’ll set the wolf on you!” Louis teased.
“Yes! The wolf! Do you want the wolf to eat you up?” Gus stuck in with relish, though he looked a little scared at his twin’s mention of such a ferocious beast.
“The wolf! The wolf! We’ll get the wolf to gobble you up!” Louis announced in a sing song voice, dancing about on the spot.
Julie burst into tears and Antonia scooped her up and did her best to soothe her fears that there was no wolf; her brothers were only teasing her; of course she could have the first turn on the beautiful swing. The little girl’s nurse stepped forward to take her sobbing charge from the Duchess’s arms, but Antonia shook her head with a smile and the nurse retreated to stand with the small group of servants who had followed Jonathon under the shade of the oak.
Jonathon rolled his eyes at fate that his surprise for Antonia that should have seen her happy and carefree had been turned upside down by a little girl’s fears that a wolf was somewhere prowling about the estate. He did not blame the twins, boys would be boys, but he was intrigued as to where such a nonsensical taunt had originated. He did not have to look far or even ask. Gus volunteered the information with a round-eyed look that told Jonathon he truly believed there was a wolf.
“Gus and Louis, you will please tell your sister there is no wolf,” Antonia said firmly, the little girl turning her tear-stained face in the crook of her grandmother’s shoulder to regard her brothers with a frown between her fair brows.
The twins looked at each other then at Frederick who at first feigned ignorance by lifting his thin shoulders, bottom lip stuck out. This made Gus angry and he
pointed a chubby finger at his elder brother.
“You said there was a wolf! You said it!”
All eyes were on Frederick.
“He did say it, Mema! He did!” Louis added in confirmation of his twin’s accusation and looked also at Jonathon, who stood with his hands in his frockcoat pockets patiently waiting for Frederick to own to the claim or not.
The silence continued for a minute. It was too much for Frederick who capitulated, his bottom lip now quivering. “I didn’t say it!” he countered. “I didn’t!”
“Frederick?” Antonia said gently. “Why would Gus and Louis say that you did, mon chou?”
Her soft voice was worse than had she been angry with him and Frederick teared up but quickly dashed a sleeve across his eyes, saying with a quaver in his voice, “I didn’t say it, Mema. Papa... I heard Papa say it to Grandpère Martin. Papa said there’s a wolf at your door and he doesn’t know what to do about it.”
“There is a wolf! There is a wolf!” Louis exclaimed triumphantly.
“Hush, Louis,” Antonia said quietly, not a look at Jonathon because the Duke’s insinuation was evident to both of them and she was angry, that her son should speak of Jonathon in such terms and unnecessarily burden his aging Godfather with such salacious nonsense; as for allowing his little son to overhear his unjustifiable concerns, it was unpardonable.
She was still ruminating about the Duke’s audacity while soaking in her hipbath of soapy bubbles later that night, the children gone home happy and exhausted; the dilemma of the swing resolved when Jonathon suggested Juliana sit upon her lap and that they be swung as one; exhilarating giggles from them both at being pushed high into the air, stockinged toes pointing to the white wispy clouds that streaked the blue sky enough of a diversion for Juliana to forget all about a wolf; the boys, once they had each had a turn on the swing, deciding there was more fun to be had clamoring all over the pirate ship tree house pretending to be on the high seas than worrying about a wolf that Jonathon assured them was in truth as ferocious as a kitten and just as cuddly.
Autumn Duchess: A Georgian Historical Romance (Roxton Series) Page 32