Rescuing the Countess: Sweet and Clean Regency Romance (His Majesty's Hounds Book 13)

by Arietta Richmond

  Until then, he would not antagonise his mother, he would simply keep the peace, as much as was possible, and plan for the future. He sat on his horse, staring at the place, then slipped down to walk around, touching the repaired walls, studying the grounds, envisioning the finished result. He would, he decided, come here often, to keep his determination fresh, even while winter prevented work.

  As he often did, he spoke to the building, as if it could hear.

  “I’ll be back, often. I will hold to my promise; the repairs will be done. Just coming and seeing this, often, will keep my resolve hard.”

  He strode around the corner of the house, and across the rutted remains of its gravel drive. He paused. Looking down, as the ground slipped beneath his boots. The snow was churned to dirty slush, mixed with the muddy earth where the gravel had worn thin. It was as if many feet, and perhaps even a cart had been here. he shook his head. It must still be the effects of the stonemason and his men, although they had left weeks ago. After all, no one else had reason to be here.

  Still, he muttered to himself as he walked.

  “Who could have been here? And why?”

  ~~~~~

  The two men had frozen to stillness where they stood in the kitchen of the Dower house, at the first sound of the man outside. They peered carefully through the crack in the boards that covered the broken window, and were alarmed to see the Earl outside.

  “I thought as you said ’e’d be gone until spring!”

  One answered the other in an equally quiet whisper.

  “’E was supposed t’ be. S’ what ’e said t’ the stonemason.”

  “Well, looks like ’e’s changed ’is mind. E’s muttering about comin’ here regular like.”

  They watched as he strode across the grass at the corner of the house and onto the drive. He stopped.

  “What’s ’e lookin’ at?”

  “The ground. That’s bad.”

  And then they heard the Earl speak again, a whisper to himself, but loud enough to carry on the cold crisp air.

  “Who could have been here? And why?”

  They looked at each other and panic settled into their faces.

  “’E knows! What if ’e goes a digging? What if ’e finds things?”

  “We’ll have t’ make sure ’e don’t, then. There’ll be a way.”

  ~~~~~

  “You know, of course, that Lewis is back for a while? I thought so. He’s always been a charming boy, but now, after a few years away, well… He’s even struck up a friendship with Lady Granville – the young one, I mean, not the Dowager.”

  “Oh? Do tell, how did that come about?”

  Lucy Morton’s voice was a touch sharp, and she leaned closer to Fiona, her face filled with avid interest.

  “Oh,” Fiona waved a hand dismissively, “They met out walking – along the lane, I believe. He was impertinent enough to introduce himself, and she was… gracious… enough to converse with him. She’s far more willing to speak kindly to a commoner than most of the nobility… and… after all, he is very charming. And then she came by just a few days ago, to see the kittens… and it was obvious that they’ve struck up a friendship…”

  She watched Lucy’s face, and smiled at her expression. Fiona loved nothing more than to have a piece of gossip before her friend. What Lucy would make of it, she didn’t know, but an association of her family with the Countess could only do Fiona’s social standing good.

  “I see. Isn’t that a little… inappropriate? No matter how charming, he is rather excessively beneath her social status. I wouldn’t have thought it. But then… She’s never quite seemed a suitable match for the Earl. Not what I would have chosen at all. When I was caring for him, as a boy, I always imagined a woman far more suitable for him….”

  Lucy was reminding Fiona of her own long-standing association with the Lord Granville and his family. She’d always behaved as if she were superior to everyone else in the village because of it.

  “Well… I’ve always found her to be kind, and those simples she makes have helped Mary’s children. I admit, it’s not a very genteel activity for a lady, grubbing about with plants and the like, but I can forgive her that for the results. I expect I’ll be seeing more of her in the near future…”

  Lucy snorted, as if finding the idea highly unlikely. But the conversation had disturbed her, nonetheless. Perhaps…

  “You may think whatever you like, Fiona, but time will tell, time will tell. Now, I need to be off about my day. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon – do keep me informed if this … friendship… progresses.”

  “I will, I will. Good day to you then.”

  Fiona picked up her basket, and set off to find others in the village to gossip with. Lucy watched her go, then turned the other way. She might have known that useless London piece her Edmund had married would be a true strumpet! But, until now, there had been no true evidence of it. Now, however… It was obviously time for her to visit her old employer, the Dowager Countess. As much as the Dowager allowed, Lucy had become her friend, almost, over the years. The poor woman had needed someone to talk to, after her husband had passed on, and Lucy had been a trusted part of the household for so many years…

  Perhaps she ought to have a word with the Earl as well. Poor Edmund should know what his wife was doing behind his back!

  ~~~~~

  Thompson showed Lucy into the Dowager’s private parlour. His face was expressionless, but his posture was tense – as if he suspected something was about to happen. Well, thought Lucy, it was. Let the coward flinch all he liked, she would stand for the truth.

  The Dowager greeted her, formal as always, but her dark eyes glittering with interest – Lucy only ever came to see her if there was gossip to deliver.

  “Good day Mrs Morton, what brings you to visit me today?”

  Lucy curtseyed, then settled on the couch that the Dowager waved her to.

  “I hesitated about coming, my dear Lady Granville, but, in the end, I knew that I had to tell you, much as it distresses me to do so.”

  “Oh? And what distressing things must you tell me? Do get to the point, Mrs Morton.”

  “Well… it’s that disgraceful London piece that your son married. She’s proven what a fast, shameless piece she is. She’s no sense of the honour her husband is due, nor of the respect due her station, none at all! She’s struck up a… ‘friendship’ with the gatekeeper’s son! At least that’s what the gatekeeper’s wife called it. A gazetted flirt, that’s what she is, and, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s far more than that, far more!”

  The Dowager eyed her coldly, saying nothing at first, but Lucy saw her fists clench where they lay in her lap.

  “I see. And how did this ‘friendship’ come about?”

  “They met, I am told, when ‘out walking along the lane’, whatever that means. Still, the shameless hussy does wander about the estate alone, so perhaps it’s possible – but as to whether it was an accidental meeting… well…”

  The Dowager’s face had hardened, and a red flush of anger rose to her cheeks.

  “I should have expected that it would come to this. She has, as you say, no sense of decency, honour, or position. She’d dress like a London fancy piece if I allowed it in this house. But this, this goes beyond the pale. She has overstepped herself thoroughly this time.”

  At that moment, before Lucy could do more than nod her agreement with the Dowager’s words, there was a tap at the door, and the Earl entered.

  “Who has overstepped themselves, Mother?”

  Lucy sat back, watching, enjoying the drama that played out before her – rarely had her words created such an impact. The Dowager looked her son in the eye and spoke, her tone that of a woman who had just been proven right, again.

  “That useless strumpet you chose to marry. I told you, from the start, that she was not the woman for you, that you should have married dear Millicent, but would you listen? No! and see what a mess it has put us in now! I don�
��t know how I’ll hold my head up in society any more, I really don’t.”

  Edmund looked somewhat puzzled, and glanced at Lucy, then back to his mother, before speaking again.

  “I see. Exactly what has she done?”

  “She has proven herself a gazetted flirt, a fancy piece as bad as her taste in clothes would suggest, and allowed inappropriate advances from a commoner! She has cast your honour into disrepute by doing so! I have no choice but to confront her about this behaviour, and demand that she seclude herself in the house – we cannot risk her tarnishing the family honour further!”

  The Earl swallowed, looking, Lucy thought, rather uncomfortable, then simply nodded. Well, so he should look uncomfortable. He had disappointed her, and his mother, and now the result of his inappropriate choice was his to bear. This day had vindicated her opinions, in every way. The Dowager rang the bell, and, when a footman appeared, asked him to request that Lady Granville join them immediately. Then she turned to Lucy.

  “My dear Mrs Morton, I must thank you for bringing this terrible disgrace to my attention so promptly. But we mustn’t take up any more of your valuable time, and you have no need to be witness to any more inappropriate behaviour, but do visit again soon.” Lucy was, it seemed dismissed. She hid her disappointment, and departed gracefully, but could not resist a satisfied smirk at the younger Lady Granville as she passed her in the hallway.

  ~~~~~

  A strange woman was leaving the Dowager’s private parlour as Maria approached it. A woman who looked at her and smiled – not in a nice way.

  Maria drew herself up, and ignored the woman, even though she was feeling very shaky. Any summons from the Dowager boded ill, and she dreaded what might await her in that parlour. The room was always overheated, and was filled with a clutter of ill-assorted furniture and keepsakes. It grated on Maria, even when empty. When its owner was present, it became unbearable.

  Taking a deep breath, she tapped on the door, and entered when bid to. The Dowager stood, glaring at her, with even more venom in her expression than usual. Edmund sat, off to one side, looking very uncomfortable, and as if he, too, wanted to be anywhere else but there at this moment.

  “You wanted to see me, my Lady?”

  “I never want to see you. But in this case, it is necessary for me to tolerate the experience, at least for a short while. It has come to my attention that you have disgraced yourself, have dishonoured your husband’s name and have proven, for once and all, that you are nothing more than a gazetted flirt with no sense of her place in the world!”

  Maria gasped, her eyes going to Edmund. He shifted in his seat, but looked away, unwilling to meet her eyes. So, there would be no support from her husband. By now, she expected nothing different.

  “My Lady, I do not know what you speak of. In what way do you believe I have done these things?”

  “Typical! You are so unaware of propriety and correct behaviour that you do not even recognise your own failings!”

  “My failings?”

  “Your failings. As you seem oblivious, let me detail them to you. You have no idea how to dress with propriety, you wander the grounds unaccompanied, and may meet any random passing person without appropriate supervision, you have no respect for your reputation, nor that of your husband, you go so far as to form… friendships… with young men of common blood – and I daresay more than ‘friendship’, given your fast and flirtatious nature! That you do this is so well known that it is common gossip amongst the townspeople. I am disgusted by the disregard with which you have brought our ancient name into disrepute!”

  Maria’s heart sank. She had not thought Fiona so unkind as to have made an innocent conversation into something far more, simply for the sake of gossip. But it seemed that she was, that she had. The Dowager glared at her, waiting for a response of some kind. There was nothing Maria could say – nothing which would be believed, nothing which would change the Dowager’s opinion. She was doomed regardless. Still, she had to say something.

  “I have never intended…”

  The Dowager cut her off with a wave of her hand.

  “Do not try to defend yourself – there is no defence for such behaviour. You will, from now on, until I choose to release you from this edict, not go outside this house. If I cannot trust you to comport yourself correctly in outside company, even that of commoners, then you shall not be exposed to such situations at all. You may not argue with my choice, you must simply obey. Is that clear.”

  Maria stood, aghast.

  To never leave the house! What of her cottage, the herbs still drying, the tinctures she had not yet made, to help the servants and the villagers through winter ailments? Yet the Dowager was right, in one terrible way – she had no possibility of fighting the woman’s edict, especially when Edmund sat by and let it happen. Her only hope might lie in convincing Edmund to speak to his mother for her – but that would take much persuasion – Edmund still seemed unable to see the truth of his mother’s behaviour.

  Still, she resolved to try. She bowed her head and did her best to look meek and accepting.

  “Good, I can see that you are not going to argue. You may go. I will inform the staff of this restriction, to ensure that they do not assist you in any foolish notion you may have, of leaving the house regardless.”

  Maria fought back tears – she was to be so humiliated that the staff were to be engaged as her jailors. She turned, and left the room. She did not allow the tears to fall until she was safely in her rooms, with the door locked.

  ~~~~~

  “No milord, there’s no woman fits that description hereabouts. The only one that age lives with her mother, has a little boy. No idea about the father, she’s likely a widow – the war took so many men.”

  “Thank you for the information, Innkeep. I’ll have a meal of your excellent pie, and a tankard of ale before I get back on the road, if you would.”

  The Innkeeper nodded, and scurried off to bring the food.

  Another possibility gone. When Martin had charged him with Marion’s care, with his dying breath, Charles had never expected that request to lead to a years’ long search for a missing woman. A woman who seemed to have simply disappeared, like the morning mist does in the light of the sun.

  Three years later, he seemed no closer to finding her, and the failure ate at his self-respect. He would continue his rounds of Hunter’s estates, and continue checking, and asking everywhere - surely, one day, he would find some hint of where she had gone.

  His thoughts drifted in another direction entirely, as he slowly ate the pie. Maria. He wondered how her life went on, if she was any happier than she had been, at the time of Hunter and Nerissa’s wedding. She was never far from his thoughts for long. He had, he knew, been avoiding going home to Meltonbrook Chase, for the proximity of Maria’s childhood home, and everything around it reminded him, over and over, what he had lost, had never had a chance to reach for.

  He would, to appease his mother, go home for Christmas Day – but he would not stay long, not even until twelfth night – he could not bear it. He would make an excuse, and return here, to Springhurst Chase, or maybe further north, to Moorwood Park. There were always estate matters to deal with. At least there, whilst he would still think of Maria, he would not be surrounded by tiny reminders every day.

  Chapter Eight

  Maria’s hope of talking to Edmund was in vain. For the next few days, he avoided her, caught up in the arrangements for the hunt he was to host in a few days’ time. She held herself with dignity, as much as she could, and those of the servants who had always been kind to her, as much as they could without incurring the Dowager’s wrath, made sure that she knew of their unhappiness with the Dowager’s edict. They did it in small ways – a little extra treat on her breakfast tray, greater attention to keeping her chambers warm, despite the snow which fell some days outside, and more.

  Maria was grateful, but worried about her cottage and supplies. Eventually, she sent Annie to d
iscreetly call upon the midwife, and let her know that she might go to the cottage and use any of the supplies she needed. Far better that things were used, than that they moulder away whilst Maria could not do anything about them.

  When the day of the hunt arrived, Maria watched from her window as the men set off.

  As always, Edmund sat his horse well, and looked more alive, more sure of himself, than he ever did in any other circumstance. If only he could find it in himself to be that certain when dealing with his mother, if only he were capable of seeing the world differently… she turned away, back into the warm room, no longer able to bear watching the men ride away, free to go where they wished, whilst she sat, imprisoned, with no hope of any improvement in her life.

  Her thoughts went back to Nerissa’s wedding, to the joy that her sister had found with Hunter, and to that conversation with Charles, at the wedding breakfast. It had not been wise of her to reveal to him her unhappiness, and yet… his words stayed with her, his offer of unconditional help should she need it had become a treasure that she clung to. No matter that she could not conceive of a situation in which she could call on him, without destroying both of their reputations irrevocably. Not that, between the efforts of the gossiping villagers, and the Dowager, she had much reputation left to ruin!

  ~~~~~

  Three hours later, Maria was roused from her reading by a great outcry downstairs. She looked out the window to see the hunters returned, apparently in disarray. Curious, she left her rooms and descended the stairs. As she reached the bottom step, the front doors opened, and four men entered, carrying another man on a makeshift hurdle. It was Edmund.

  Maria rushed forward, shocked, and afraid. Edmund was unconscious, his face a stark white. Blood marred his complexion, trickling from a gash at his hairline.

  His clothes were soaking wet, and his body shook with shivers.

  At that instant, the Dowager entered the hall, already speaking.