by Lynn Collum
She found herself seated between the scowling marquess and the unfriendly dowager. She couldn’t have been less happy. It was a struggle to down the surprisingly elaborate fare of the new cook.
Her thoughts went to the possibility of leaving Hawk’s Lair. After all, the countess was here to advise the earl, and clearly the lady seemed to think Emily was pushing herself forward in an improper manner. But when the notion of leaving left her feeling unhappy, she attributed it to the fact she would miss the children. It had nothing to do with the earl.
Just then she glanced down the table to see Sir Ethan and Delia conversing with great pleasure. Emily wondered if she would spoil her companion’s chance for a possible match with the delightful baronet if they left the castle. Remembering what a dreadful first marriage Delia had suffered, Emily didn’t want her friend to miss an opportunity to capture the heart of such a kind man as Sir Ethan. Despite Lady Hawksworth’s hostility, Emily decided they would stay a while longer.
Emily was startled from her musings when the countess addressed her.
“Have you been enjoying your stay at Hawk’s Lair, Miss Collins?” The dowager’s grey eyes narrowed as she awaited Emily’s answer.
“It has been a bit hectic, my lady, getting the children settled. But yes, it has been enjoyable to be home in England.”
“Then I shall make certain Hawksworth invites you for the wedding.”
Emily’s hand trembled as she laid down her fork. “There is to be a wedding?”
A satisfied smile tipped the countess’s lined mouth as she looked down the table at the marquess’s daughter. “Did you not know? My grandson is soon to become affianced to Lady Cora. That is why we have come. Finding my great-grandchildren at the castle merely adds to my joy on this momentous occasion.”
Lady Hawksworth, glancing back at Miss Collins, watched a dull glaze settled in the young lady’s brown eyes even as she said all the proper things. One might almost feel sorry for the girl—but not one who had made plans for her grandson that did not include a marriage to a veritable nobody.
The countess would have been greatly surprised if she’d been privy to the thoughts in Miss Collins’s head. Her initial disappointment was great at hearing the news of impending nuptials. But Emily determinedly put thoughts of the earl aside. While he was a handsome man, there had been little between them except matters pertaining to the children, and after all, he was a rake. That was something she reminded herself of every time she found his gaze resting upon her with interest.
She decided that her primary concern must be for the children and what role Lady Cora would play in their lives. In effect, the lady would be the children’s new mother. Emily peered down the table at the young woman. There was no denying that she was beautiful, a fact that Lady Cora seemed well aware of, but was there compassion and caring beneath that seemingly vain exterior?
Would she be one of those ladies who spent all her time in London in the social whirl? Would Lady Cora undo all that had been accomplished with the earl’s growing attachment to his wards? The very thought made Emily’s blood stir in anger.
She knew it was none of her concern, yet her love for the children would not let her ignore their fate. Was Lady Cora prepared for such a responsibility as marrying the earl would now entail? It was the height of impertinence on Emily’s part to be asking such a question, even of herself. Still, it wasn’t the first time she’d involved herself in Lord Hawksworth’s affairs since her arrival at the castle.
In truth, Emily wondered if she might be making a rash assumption about the young lady. She hardly knew Lady Cora. Nevertheless, Emily was determine to stay and see for herself what kind of female the earl had chosen to fill such a place in his wards’ lives.
The evening seemed interminable to Oliver. His gaze drifted to Sir Ethan, Mrs. Keaton and Miss Collins on the far side of the Blue Drawing Room examining a book about the Indies the baronet had found in the library. That was where Oliver longed to be, but instead manners forced him to politely remain at his grandmother’s side.
Where had all his pleasure gone with his quiet evenings at Hawk’s Lair? It seemed to have disappeared with the arrival of his grandmother, the marquess and Lady Cora. The previously interesting conversation with the ladies from Calcutta regarding books, art and the exotic land from which they’d returned had been replaced with Lady Cora’s and the dowager’s chatter about fashion, scandals and common acquaintances, as well as the marquess’s broad hints about wanting to discuss marriage, which Oliver chose to ignore.
He wanted to invite the others to join his group, but he hadn’t been blind to Lady Cora’s or his grandmother’s cool treatment of both Miss Collins and Mrs. Keaton. He knew Sir Ethan’s bringing the book had been his way to protect the ladies from the gentle snubs of the new guests.
This night was so much like every dull evening he’d spent upon first arriving in Town that he suddenly remembered what had made him shun the fashionable pursuits and go his own way. As he gazed at the beautiful Lady Cora, he wondered if he were looking at the vision of his future boring life.
At long last Bedows arrived with the tea tray, and the earl knew the ordeal was almost over. To his surprise, his grandmother asked if the children were still awake. Bedows informed the lady that the older children were, but they were dressed for bed.
Looking at the marquess, the dowager announced, “Oh, we are almost all family here. Have the dears come down to say good night.”
Lady Cora, tired from her evening of being charming, wanted to scream and stamp her feet at having to pretend to like the earl’s wards, but seeing the look on her father’s face, she said, “I am looking forward to meeting your young relatives, my lord.”
Oliver looked at the lady with some surprise. He would not have expected her to be much interested in his wards, for he himself hadn’t been at first. Perhaps females were quite different about such matters. “They are remarkable in the way they have handled all their hardships, Lady Cora.”
Minutes later, Jamie and Honoria, their nightclothes covered by new brocade dressing gowns, bounded into the room. They went immediately to their great-grandmother and kissed her rouged cheek. The dowager proudly introduced her young relatives to Lord Halcomb and Lady Cora.
The children acquitted themselves respectably with a bow and a curtsey, but as Honoria rose from her wobbly dip, she froze and stared at Lady Cora with a puzzled expression on her face.
As the silence grew, Lady Cora became uncomfortable. “Whatever is the matter? Why do you stare at me like a moonling, girl?”
“You have plumes in your hair.”
Lady Cora preened and patted the curls that held the small blue feathers. “Yes, ’tis the fashion.” Then, thinking to impress his lordship, she pulled one small plume free and extended it to the little girl.
Honoria shook her head, but eyed the feather longingly. “Thank you kindly, but I must not take it. Ladies of Quality do not wear such. They are quite vulgar, you know.”
Sir Ethan gave a laugh that he managed to change to a cough as the earl frowned at his niece.
With an angry twitter, the marquess’s daughter snapped, “Where did you hear such a ridiculous thing?”
Oliver knew he must take action. “Honoria, you will apologize at once. Of course genteel ladies wear feathers.”
Emily and Delia exchanged a look. How could they explain about the actresses and the great dyed plumes without betraying the earl before his soon-to-be fiancée?
But neither did Emily want the child to be censured for their mistake. “I fear Delia and I are to blame for Honoria’s misconception. She witnessed a lady with an excess of bright red plumes on a bonnet quite recently. We but explained that a lady did not dress in such a manner. I fear she thought we meant all feathers. She looked at Hawksworth pointedly to remind him of a particular vulgarly ornate hat.
Oliver knew in an instant where his niece had seen such a bonnet. Colette Devereau’s had been such. Seeing the angr
y flush on Lady Cora’s face because of the child’s unintentional insult, he was determined to calm the waters.
“A reasonable mistake for a child to make. Honoria, you may take this feather, for it is just the type the fashionable ladies wear. Thank Lady Cora.”
The child eagerly took the feather and thanked the lady, but Emily feared that the damage had been done. Lady Cora behaved as if the incident was of no importance and continued to engage the earl in conversation, but Emily felt certain she detected a hint of malice in the aqua eyes each time they came to rest on the little girl.
As the hour grew long, Emily noted the children begin to yawn. Still the dowager seemed more interested in the conversation of her grandson and his future fiancée.
Rising, Emily said, “ ’Tis becoming quite late. Shall I return the children to the nursery, Lady Hawksworth?”
“That won’t be necessary, Miss Collins. I think you have done quite enough with the children for now.” Lady Hawksworth’s tone was frigid as she rose. “Come, my dears, Lady Cora and I shall see you safely back to your beds.”
Lady Cora was less than pleased but managed to suppress her grimace before his lordship saw her true feeling. With a smirk at Emily, the young lady followed the dowager and the children from the room. Lord Halcomb rose and bade good night to all, then followed his daughter.
Emily’s cheeks warmed at the dowager’s pointed snub, and she gazed at the carpet mutely. She tried to tell herself that the dowager had a right to be angry with them over Honoria’s faux pas, but she suspected there was more to the lady’s attitude than Emily’s influence on the children.
Aware that someone had moved to her side, Emily looked up into the smiling eyes of the earl. “Don’t look so glum, Miss Collins. There was no serious harm done by Honoria, and I am sure that Lady Cora understood.”
“I hope you are right, sir. But your grandmother seems much offended.” Suddenly Emily felt like an intruder in the Carson family. “I think, my lord, it is perhaps time that Delia and I continued on our journey.”
Oliver knew he didn’t want her to leave. He was furious with his grandmother’s conduct. In her zeal to promote Lady Cora, she had allowed herself to appear rude to Miss Collins, whom he knew they owed a great debt—or at least that was what his mind kept telling him. Well, he wouldn’t allow her to leave under a cloud.
“You cannot abandon me with the task of interviewing all those governesses alone. Only think what terrors their hearts will experience to be in such notorious company as mine. Besides, left to my own devices, I am certain I shall hire the wrong one.”
Emily realized at once that his lordship was trying to make up for his grandmother’s insult, and her heart warmed. She knew she must not read too much into his attempt to cover his relative’s rudeness, but still she found herself pleased that he wanted her to stay.
“I don’t think you need worry about hiring the wrong governess unless you advertised at the local opera house.” After the earl chuckled, Emily added, “But I shall not abandon you and the children, my lord.”
With that, Emily and Delia said their good nights and made their way upstairs. As the maid helped her undress, Emily knew that Lady Hawksworth would not be well pleased with her decision to stay longer. Clearly the lady saw her as a threat to the betrothal of Lady Cora and his lordship, but Emily couldn’t imagine why. She and the earl had spent more time quarreling than anything else. All the same, Emily thought it best if she kept her distance from the gentleman. With a deep sigh, she climbed into bed and tried to get some sleep.
In the drawing room, the gentlemen settled before the fire with glasses of brandy. Sir Ethan was conscious of his friend’s dark mood as they sat together in silence. He was well aware of Oliver’s reluctance to marry and could even sympathize, having had such a bad time of it himself when he’d taken the plunge years ago. But it was plain to see the countess was here to advance Lady Cora as the future Countess of Hawksworth.
At last, hoping to lighten his friend’s mood, the baronet asked, “Did I hear Miss Collins say that she and Delia are leaving?”
“Delia, is it?” Oliver managed a half smile for his friend despite his bedeviled mood.
The baronet returned the smile. “Only between us, for the lass hasn’t given me permission to take such a liberty. Not yet, that is.”
“I do believe it is midsummer madness for you and ’tis but March. Shall I be wishing you happy soon?” The earl’s eye held a hint of wistfulness as he watched his friend. Why could he not have been bewitched by Lady Cora?
Then the thought came unbidden that he was bewitched, but by someone else. He pushed such an odd idea away and tried to concentrate on what his friend was saying.
“You are become like a matchmaking old woman, Hawksworth. While I find the lady amusing, I am not ready to take the leap into parson’s mousetrap. I do believe you are the one expected to do that—and soon.”
Oliver ran his fingers through his hair, returning his gaze to the flames. “I would as soon leap off one of the turrets at the castle as marry Lady Cora Lane. The pain would be short and sweet compared to a lifetime of insipid conversation and boring nights.”
The baronet looked around the room in a broad gesture. “Don’t see anyone here holding a gun to your head, laddie. You promised your grandfather to marry. Nothing says it has to be some rich, beautiful...” Sir Ethan seemed to struggle a moment with the description, then seemed to give up and added, “silly, caper-witted goosecap selected by your grandmother.”
“I know,” Oliver said, then he came to a decision and rose. “And so I shall tell her at once. Sleep well, my friend.”
He made his way up to the lady’s room, his irate mood growing with each step. It wasn’t just that the countess was demanding he declare himself to a woman whom he found intolerable, but that she was also being rude to his other guests in her quest to bring about the match.
On being bidden to enter after his knock, the earl found his grandmother sitting up in bed with a book before her.
“What brings you to me so late, Oliver? Have you good news about Lady Cora?”
“Madam, you will cease this matchmaking at once. I appreciate the efforts you have gone to in order to find me a proper wife, but can you honestly say that you like the marquess’s daughter?”
Nora looked down at her covers, tugging at them guiltily with her frail fingers. “I find her little different from the other young ladies of the ton.”
“Exactly so. She is empty-headed, vain and I would suspect ill-tempered when thwarted. Is this the woman you would choose to help me care for and manage your great-grandchildren?” Oliver came and stood beside the bed as he made his argument. He thought the lady looked surprisingly old without any of the feminine artifices to enhance her. He could see the veins beneath her white and lined skin.
Despite appearances, the countess was no frail thing who would give in during a fight. Her grey eyes stared at him unflinchingly. “So you now will fail to honour your promise to wed because of a few minor flaws in Lady Cora?”
“Grandmother, I am perfectly capable of finding a bride on my own. A bride I won’t wish to strangle the very first night.”
The dowager’s brows drew together. “Oliver, you cannot marry just any female. Your reputation is such that you must find a lady whose character is beyond reproach.”
Oliver turned and walked to the door, pausing before he departed. “And so I shall, but you must cease your matchmaking with Lady Cora. She and her father are welcome to stay as long as they like, but I shall not make her an offer.”
“You will whistle down a fortune if you let such a lady slip through your fingers. Don’t let your fascination with that nobody from India ruin your chances for an excellent alliance.”
“Miss Collins has nothing to do with my feeling about Lady Cora.” Oliver spoke with such vehemence that he startled even himself. Then, hoping to distract his grandmother from his reaction, he added, “And while we are on the subj
ect, you will kindly refrain from your rude conduct to both Miss Collins and Mrs. Keaton. Don’t forget that without their kindness, your grandchildren might still be in India with only servants to care for them if my brother is dead. I believe you owe them an apology.”
At that Nora fell silent. Had she let her obsession with bringing about a match between the marquess’s daughter and her grandson blind her to Miss Collins’s and Mrs. Keaton’s goodness? Perhaps. She would make an effort to be kinder. Still, she wasn’t prepared to accept that Oliver might miss the opportunity for such a splendid match with Lady Cora.
“I shall mend my ways, but you must promise me you will make no decision about Lady Cora until you know the young lady better.”
Seeing the hopeful look in his grandmother’s eyes, Oliver didn’t have the heart to dash all her dreams. “Whatever I do, I shall take my time. You can be certain that I shall certainly be a proper host and entertain all my guests to the best of my ability.”
With that the countess had to be content. Her grandson wished her a good night and left.
Nora was still convinced that Oliver would eventually fall prey to Lady Cora’s beauty, if the girl would just mind her tongue. She would have a word with the marquess in the morning. The lady blew out the candles and settled down to sleep, still hopeful that her plans might come to pass.
Nine
A steady spring rain forced the residents of Hawk’s Lair to stay captive indoors the following day. Emily, keeping with her resolution, decided she would escape any unnecessary encounters with the earl. After breakfast, during which the countess had been surprisingly civil, Emily returned upstairs to her sitting room determined to while away the time reading. She encouraged her companion to join the others downstairs, hopeful that the lady would be able to spend the morning in company with Sir Ethan.
But scarcely an hour later, Delia returned with Honoria and Jamie in tow. As the children moved to the window to argue about how long the downpour would last, Delia came to sit near Emily. In a low whisper, Delia said, “Lady Cora demanded that I remove the children from the drawing room. They were giving her the headache.”