The Lords & Ladies Box Set

by Fenella J Miller

  ‘Please do not fuss, my love, I am a little fatigued, that is all. But I am determined to come down today to meet my nephew.’ Martha stepped aside to allow Amelia to take her mother’s arm and together they descended the elegant carved staircase.

  Foster held open the dining-room door with a flourish. ‘Lady, and Miss Rivenhall,’ he said loudly.

  Startled by this unexpected, and quite unnecessary, announcement Amelia put her foot through the hem of her mother’s dress bringing them both to an undignified halt in the doorway.

  ‘If you would stand still, please, Aunt Sophia, I shall untangle Amelia’s foot from your gown.’ Richard smiled at her mother as he dropped smoothly to his heels at her feet. She smiled back, instantly at ease.

  ‘Good heavens, Richard, my dear boy, what a silly way to make an entrance.’

  Amelia, in her frantic effort to remove her foot before Richard was obliged to help had become even more entangled.

  ‘Keep still, Amelia, you are making things much worse.’ He was having difficulty containing his amusement as he grasped her ankle and deftly removed it. Amelia felt her face scorch.

  How could he laugh at her? He was obviously not a true gentleman or he would have treated her with more respect.

  ‘There, cousin, you are free to move.’ He straightened easily, shaking out the folds of his aunt’s dress as he did so. ‘Aunt Sophia, allow me to introduce myself. Richard Edward Rivenhall, at your service.’ He stepped back half a pace and bowed his head in greeting, his dark blue eyes alight with suppressed mirth.

  ‘A bit late for such formality, Richard, but indeed, I am more than delighted to see you here. You have been sorely missed these past eighteen months.’

  Richard’s expression sobered instantly. ‘For that, I apologize, Aunt Sophia; I will make every effort to restore things here as speedily as possible.’

  He offered his arm to her mother and led her, with every show of concern, to the table, where Foster was waiting to seat her. Amelia was left to make her own way wishing she could stamp hard on ‘dear Richard’s’ Hessian boots. That her fastidious parent had failed to comment on the tear in her favourite gown demonstrated how taken in she was by his smooth words.

  A cold collation had been placed on the sideboard in the small dining-room, hidden under silver

  domes. Foster, and their one remaining maid, Jenny, removed the lids with a flourish. Then Foster stood attentively waiting to serve.

  ‘Thank you, Foster, that will do. We will serve ourselves.’

  Foster bowed and Jenny curtsied at their new master and quietly left the room. Amelia almost exploded with annoyance. How highhanded! He had only been here a moment and already he was ordering the staff.

  Richard removed the plate from in front of her mother. ‘What can I get you, Aunt Sophia? A little game pie, perhaps?’ He glanced along the buffet. ‘There is ham, and cold mutton also, if

  you prefer?’

  ‘A little pie, if you please, Richard and some of Cook’s delicious tomato relish.’

  Before Richard could offer his assistance to Amelia she jumped up and marched across to join him. ‘I can serve myself, thank you, Cousin. Although Foster and Jenny could have done so if you had not so summarily dismissed them.’

  ‘I expect Richard wishes to converse in private with us, Millie dear.’ Her mother’s gentle remonstrance was enough. She turned to the tall, handsome man, standing watchful only a few paces away.

  ‘Please forgive me, Cousin Richard; it is not my place to comment. You must order the staff as you see fit, of course.’

  He inclined his head and smiled. ‘There is no need to apologize, Amelia. You have had the management of the household for so long; I should have consulted you first. It is I who should apologize to you.’

  Amelia tilted her head and looked directly at him for the first time. Reassured by what she saw,

  she half smiled and harmony was temporarily restored. Plates filled, they returned to the table and this time Richard seated Amelia.

  Mama picked at her food. ‘Richard, I am curious; Millie said you must have journeyed overnight to reach here so early this morning? Is that correct?’

  Her eyes were fixed on him, keen to hear his explanation.

  ‘How observant of you, Amelia,’ he replied dryly. ‘Yes, Aunt Sophia, I did travel overnight. Do not forget I am, or should I say, I was a soldier. The elements are nothing to me; neither is the dark.

  I saw no need to stop; after all you had both waited long enough.’

  Amelia relaxed. She must not be so quick to judge her cousin in the future; what did she know of the harsh world of the military, after all? ‘Thank you, Cousin Richard. A lesser man might have taken two days on the journey and we would still be eating in the cold, would we not, Mama?’

  ‘Indeed we would, my love. I, for one, shall be eternally grateful to you, my dear Richard. So much has gone to rack and ruin here with no money to repair it.’

  ‘Well, that time is past now, Aunt Sophia. Amelia, I would like to go through the household accounts with you this afternoon, if you are agreeable. I need to know what discrepancies there are and where repairs and refurbishments are required.’

  Amelia looked at her mother for permission, unsure if being closeted unchaperoned with her cousin was acceptable. ‘May I, Mama?’

  ‘Martha can sit with you, then there can be no objection, I am sure.’

  ‘Then in that case, Cousin Richard, I shall join you in the library after luncheon.’

  Richard escorted his aunt back to her rooms and released her into Martha’s capable hands. It was agreed that when the maid had settled her mistress for a nap she would join Amelia in the library.

  ‘You are sure you will be able to manage without Martha all afternoon?’

  ‘Yes, my love, I shall sleep, most likely, the whole time. If I need anything I can ring, can I not?’ Lady Rivenhall settled back in the white lace edged pillows, her face almost lost amongst them. ‘Richard is such a very charming young man and so well looking, but so much bigger than his father. I think he must have made a formidable soldier.’

  Amelia frowned. ‘But he is dark, and has the same navy blue eyes as all the male Rivenhall’s. He must have inherited his stature from the maternal side.’

  ‘Indeed he must, my love, for neither your poor Papa, nor Uncle Edward, had his height or half his weight. Now, run along, Millie dear, I am too tired to talk and Richard will be waiting for you.’

  Amelia hurried along the corridor; all the necessary papers and notebooks tucked firmly under one arm. She paused as she passed a gloomy portrait of a long defunct male Rivenhall. The face that stared morosely back had dark blue eyes and dark brown hair, like Cousin Richard, but the features were narrower and the nose less prominent, the brows less arched, and the shoulders, what could be seen of them under the starched white ruff, were quite definitely not as broad or well-muscled.

  She giggled, she knew which Lord Rivenhall she preferred, the one who had arrived so unexpectedly that morning. Pushing aside all worries about Richard’s lack of Rivenhall features she ran lightly down the stairs and hurried towards the library. She was grateful Foster was not lurking in the hallway. His ridiculous formality at luncheon had almost overset her.

  She stopped outside the door to arrange her skirts and smooth her hair, but as always two errant tendrils escaped to fall over each ear. She supposed she ought to knock. Suddenly the door swung open, causing her to step back in surprise. Cousin Richard must have excellent hearing.

  ‘Come in, Amelia, stop dithering about in the passageway.’ Richard stood aside politely to allow her to enter. He grinned down at her. ‘Surely you were not about to knock?’

  She grinned back. ‘Yes, I was, I am not sure what the correct etiquette is now. This is your house; we are your guests, not the other way round.’

  ‘Do not be absurd. This is your home and it always will be. You do not need to knock on any door, or ask my permission before instruct
ing the staff. Is that quite clear?’

  Amelia was startled by his vehemence but delighted at his words. ‘Thank you, Cousin Richard. That will make things so much easier for Mama and me.’

  The library had always been Amelia’s favourite room. The leather volumes packed on to the ceiling high shelves had long been her inspiration and her solace. As an only child she had often been lonely, but once able to read had found all the companionship she needed within the covers of the many books.

  ‘Shall we sit by the fire, Amelia? I have placed two chairs and a table ready.’ Only then she noticed Martha, knitting busily, in a high-backed chair facing away from the arrangement Richard indicated.

  The afternoon sped by. Martha was dispatched to fetch freshly baked tea cakes which they ate, most inelegantly, as they worked. When the abigail was summoned upstairs neither of them commented. By this time Amelia was so at ease in Richard’s company she felt no need for a chaperone whatever the accepted protocol. After all, she reasoned, as she watched Martha disappear, we are cousins; I am sure that these rules apply to strangers, not family members. Darkness had fallen when she left to join her mother in her rooms.

  ‘Well, Millie, have you completed your business with Richard at last? It is time to change for dinner. What can you have found to talk about for so long?’

  ‘Cousin Richard is arranging to transfer vast funds to our account, Mama. We will never be in want again. Never have to scrape and save and do without, or be at anyone’s mercy. Is that not a wonderful gesture on his part?’

  ‘Good heavens, Amelia, what a thing to say. It is not for either of us to comment on, or discuss, Richard’s pecuniary arrangements.’

  ‘Why ever not, Mama? And anyway it is he who discussed them with me. He wants us both to

  know that we will never have to suffer as we have these past months.’

  Her mother's pale green eyes widened at her words. ‘What do you mean, Amelia? Why should we have to suffer; Richard is not unwell is he, he looks so very robust?’

  Amelia realized that in her enthusiasm at the thought of being made financially independent and no longer obliged to defer to anyone for funds, she had misled her mother. She dropped her knees beside her.

  ‘Oh no, there is nothing wrong with Cousin Richard. Just consider, he drove through the night, in torrential rain, and he has had no sleep in four and twenty hours, but he is still as wide awake and active as I am.’

  She smiled weakly. ‘In which case, my love, why are you so agitated about being financially independent? Richard will take care of you, and me, until you marry. Then, of course, your husband must take care of you. So you, and any money you have, will then be his.’

  Amelia sniffed in a most unladylike fashion. ‘In that case, I shall not marry. I shall remain a spinster and take care of you.’

  ‘Thank you, Millie, how kind of you to offer. But what about when Richard takes a wife? You will not wish to be at her beck and call, surely?’

  At the mention of Richard taking a wife her insides lurched unpleasantly. She scrambled to her feet not wishing to continue the conversation. ‘It is late, and I have to change. I think I will wear my new dinner gown tonight; it is a celebration after all.’

  ‘What a good idea; I shall do the same. I do hope Cook is able to find something more palatable

  than last night’s meal.’

  ‘I have spoken to her. She is preparing a banquet; we will have several removes and a dessert.

  As soon as she knew she could replenish her cupboards and her staff, she was overjoyed. I believe that she sent John straight away to the village to bring back as many of our people as are still available, and as much food as he could procure.’

  ‘Richard is going to be an excellent replacement for poor Papa. Do you think we will have the carriage again soon? I would so like to make morning calls once more.’

  ‘I mentioned the lack of horses to him and he said he has it in hand. He also had the effrontery to suggest that I might give him Sultan when he has purchased me a more suitable mount.’

  ‘And how did you reply, my love?’

  ‘I told him if Sultan goes better for him than for me then he can have him.’

  Her mother chuckled. ‘Capital, my dear. I shall come out myself to see him try; I lose count of how many times your horse carried poor Papa into the hedge before he accepted defeat.’

  Amelia grinned at the memory. ‘I must go to my room now or I will be late for dinner.’

  ‘I shall come down in my own time, my love. Do not wait for me; I shall join you in the drawing-room, when I am ready.’

  Amelia glided downstairs, radiant in a gown of emerald silk, with modest décolletage and short puffed sleeves. Her long gloves and pretty slippers were an exact match. This was an unsuitable colour for someone her age, but when she had pointed out that it exactly matched her eyes her mother had not had the heart to refuse. The dress had been sewn from a length of Indian silk that Amelia had found in the attics a few weeks earlier.

  The cousin was waiting for her in the hall, his expression bland, but his appreciation clearly apparent in his eyes. ‘You look breath-taking, my dear, quite ravisante.’ He stepped forward and took her hand, his touch burning through her thin silk gloves, and raised it to his lips. His eyes held hers and she found it hard to swallow.

  ‘Good evening, Cousin Richard, and thank you. I am glad you like my gown. It is rather daring for someone of my age, but I love it.’ Amelia twirled and her skirts flew out around her

  Richard placed her hand on his arm and led her through to the dining-room. ‘Would you like a glass of ratafia or orgeat, Amelia?’

  She shook her head, her face screwed up in disgust. ‘No, thank you, I dislike them both, they are far too sweet. I shall take wine with my meal, but nothing now, Cousin Richard, thank you.’ They heard the sound of voices on the stairs. Mama was on her way.

  ‘Oh, Mama, what a lovely gown, I had forgotten you had that one in your wardrobe. The shade of burgundy is perfect for your colouring.’

  ‘Thank you, my love. It is wonderful to have an occasion to wear it again.’ She subsided, gratefully, into a chair, the silk billowing around her like a fiery cloud. ‘I must declare, we make a fine trio, do we not, in our finery?’

  Amelia allowed herself a peek at Richard, clad all in black, his intricately folded, snowy cravat,

  ornamented only by one large diamond and gold fob. He looked magnificent. Her stomach roiled unpleasantly as he returned the compliment. She looked away, feeling hot. Surely she was not sickening for influenza? She walked across and sat down next to her mother, remembering in time, to twitch her half train aside.

  Inside the spacious, well-appointed room, the roaring fire, and heavy drapes, masked the sound of a second unexpected carriage arriving. Foster, ever alert, was the only one to hear the heavy knock on the door. Three heads, all dark, turned as one when he stepped into the drawing-room, expecting him to announce that dinner was served.

  Foster cleared his throat importantly. ‘A Lord Rivenhall has arrived and wishes to speak with you, my lady.’

  Chapter Three

  ‘Oh dear, how can that be?’ Lady Rivenhall said faintly and all colour left her face.

  Richard took charge. ‘Show the gentleman to the library, Foster. I shall be there directly.’ His tone was clipped, his expression impassive.

  ‘Mama, do not worry, I am sure there is a simple explanation. Cousin Richard will deal with it.’

  Richard dropped to one knee beside his aunt and gently took her hands. ‘Aunt Sophia, there is nothing to fret about. The lawyers have been contacting the remotest of male Rivenhalls. This must be one of them; he has obviously not been in recent contact with his advisors and does not yet know I have been found.’

  Her mother rallied and a welcome pink returned to her cheeks. ‘I am sure you must be right, dear Richard. But it was such a shock. Whatever possessed Foster to announce such a thing?’

  His face was grim. �
�I have no idea, but I aim to find out. Please excuse me Cousin, Aunt, I shall not be long.’ He strode from the room and Amelia was glad she was not the man waiting in the library.

  ‘Would you like me to call Martha, Mama?’

  ‘No, my dear child, I am now restored. I hope Cook is able to hold dinner back without it spoiling. Do you think Richard will invite this person to stay?’

  ‘I hope not, but if he has made a genuine mistake we can hardly cast him out into the night.’

  Amelia stood up and began to pace the room, her doubts about Richard returning. It was a strange coincidence, indeed, that both claimants to the vacant title should arrive on the same day! Could Richard’s night time travel now have a more sinister motive? No, he was her cousin, she was certain of it. She could not wait a moment longer; she would see for herself what was happening.

  ‘I am going to the library to find out. If this gentleman is to be accommodated it is I who must organise it.’

  ‘If you must, then I cannot prevent you. But I will have Martha with me; I do not wish to wait in here alone.’

  Amelia gave the bell cord a hard tug and waited, tapping her foot, until Jenny appeared, hat askew, having run from the servants’ quarters. ‘Jenny, please fetch Martha to attend to her ladyship, she is feeling a little under the weather.’

  The girl bobbed a curtsy and vanished, leaving the door ajar. Her footsteps retreating across the hall were clearly audible. In spite of her worry Amelia smiled. The young maid had a good heart but blundered around the house like an overeager puppy.

  ‘It will be good to employ some more staff, Mama. Poor Jenny is not suited to her current position as parlour maid.’

  ‘She is a good girl, Millie, and she tries hard to please. You would not dismiss her, would you?’

  ‘No, of course not. She can resume her duties as Cook’s assistant; she was far happier doing that.’

  They didn’t hear Martha’s approach. Like all good servants she knew how to move silently. ‘Martha, Lady Rivenhall wishes you to sit with her whilst I go to the library.’