by Deborah Hale
“I see,” the housekeeper answered in a reproachful tone. “So it is up to me, then, whether I stay or go.”
“Entirely. I don’t know how you got off on the wrong foot with Lady Artemis and I don’t want to know. But if you can put that aside and make a fresh start, I’m certain she will meet you more than halfway. And I will forget we ever had this conversation. If not, I’ll make certain you are well compensated for your past service and do everything in my power to find you a position elsewhere.”
After a slight hesitation, Mrs. Matlock replied, “In that case, I reckon I must consider my situation.”
The sound of footsteps coming toward the door made Artemis flee into the drawing room across the hall. She did not want either Hadrian or the housekeeper to know she’d overheard them.
But even from across the hall, she could hear Hadrian call out, “I only insist upon this because I know my wife is a fine lady and worthy of your respect.”
As the housekeeper hurried away in a huff, she muttered something that Artemis did not catch.
Stumbling over to an armchair in the corner of the drawing room, Artemis sank onto it and tried to sort out her confused feelings.
She was so overcome with gratitude to Hadrian for the way he’d stood up for her, she longed to race into his study and hurl herself into his arms. What held her back, besides the strait-waistcoat of her reserved nature, was the fear he would take it as a sign that she wanted to be a real wife to him. Though the temptation grew stronger every day, she still had sense enough to know nothing good could come of that, for either of them.
As a distraction from enticing visions of herself in Hadrian’s arms, Artemis turned her thoughts to the problem of their disgruntled housekeeper. Part of her hoped Mrs. Matlock would leave Edenhall so they could find someone more congenial. But congenial people were not always the most competent or dependable.
More than ever, she wanted to make a true home for Hadrian during his stay in England. If Mrs. Matlock left, some of the other servants might follow. Or they might stay and make life difficult for the new housekeeper. Neither would be conducive to domestic harmony.
For Lee’s sake, she had managed to mend fences with his formidable uncle. Could she now try to win over the formidable Mrs. Matlock, for Hadrian’s sake? She would have to swallow her pride and try to put aside the festering hurts of the past, neither of which had ever been easy for her. But she did want to be a good wife to him…in such ways as she was able.
For the next several days after his unpleasant interview with Mrs. Matlock, Hadrian felt as if he were perched on the rim of a seething volcano—knowing it would soon erupt, but not certain precisely when. Every moment he expected to hear shrieks rising from the housekeeper’s parlor or the door of the service entrance slamming.
But Edenhall remained ominously quiet.
On Sunday, as he and Artemis drove to church in the gig they’d taken to Fellbank, he could not bear the suspense any longer.
“Are you getting settled in all right?” He tried to make his enquiry sound like casual chat. “Running the house, I mean—the servants and all?”
“Very well, thank you.” Artemis sounded as if she meant it. “I went over the accounts with Mrs. Matlock and suggested a few economies we might make. I don’t mind paying for good quality, but a higher price does not always guarantee it.”
“I’ve seen the truth of that in my business,” replied Hadrian. “How did Mrs. Matlock take it, you looking over her accounts and making…suggestions?”
“In a fine spirit of cooperation. You made an excellent choice by hiring her, especially considering you were thousands of miles away at the time. I wish we’d had someone of her caliber at Bramberley.”
Was she having him on? Hadrian had come to appreciate his wife’s subtle, ironic wit, but he could see no sign she was jesting now. “I didn’t reckon the two of you had hit it off so well.”
“We didn’t.” Artemis gave a soft, rustling chuckle that was rapidly becoming one of his favorite sounds. “No more than you and I did at first. But you have taught me not to trust first impressions. They are too often based on false expectations.”
Certainly his first impression of her had been wide of the mark in many respects—though not all. He’d recognized at once that she was a woman of rare spirit, capable of standing up to him as few men had ever dared. And he had not been blind to her distinctive beauty, though it seemed to him she’d grown even lovelier since then.
“I wondered if Mrs. Matlock might have some misconceptions about me,” Artemis continued. “So I sat down with her for a little chat, woman to woman.”
Hadrian shook his head. “You’re a brave lass.”
She gave a cheerful shrug. “I had nothing to lose by trying. It turned out the poor woman did have the wrong idea about me entirely.”
“In what way?”
“She hadn’t heard the whole story about Julian and Daphne. She thought I was Lee’s mother and that I had ensnared you somehow. Once I set her straight, she was so sorry for having misjudged me, she’s gone out of her way ever since to be helpful.”
“Well…bless me!” Hadrian found a spot to park the gig. “That is good news.”
The volcano beneath him suddenly cooled. From its summit, months of domestic tranquility stretched ahead.
“Fancy me ensnaring a man with my nefarious charms?” Artemis shook her head in disbelief. “Our Mrs. Matlock has a more vivid imagination than one might suppose.”
Hadrian came around to help her out of the gig. “I reckon you could ensnare a man if you had a mind to.”
Fortunately she was not that kind of woman, and he was a man of strong will. Otherwise, he might be in danger.
When he offered Artemis his arm, she took it with a fond squeeze. “You are not obliged to flatter me. Our wedding vows made no mention of it.”
They entered the small, ancient church where Hadrian had worshipped as a child. The last time he’d sat in one of these pews, it had been to bury his father and brothers. Today, he sensed many curious stares fixed upon him. Needing a distraction from those thoughts, he glanced at Artemis and lost himself for a moment in the admiration of her flawless profile.
Leaning toward her, he whispered, “Do you really not know how beautiful you are?”
She flinched. “You are not obliged to flatter me, but I would beg you not to mock me, either.”
Before he could summon a strenuous denial of that charge, she nodded toward the altar window. It showed St. Oswin being visited by a heavenly messenger. “My sister was beautiful—like a stained-glass angel when the sunlight makes it glow.”
The service began just then, so Hadrian only had time to mutter, “There’s more than one kind of beauty in this world.”
The kind that was in the eye of the beholder, perhaps? Hadrian put that uncomfortable thought from his mind. Anyone with two sound eyes and a groat’s worth of sense could see Artemis was a damned attractive woman.
He’d thought his wife’s lack of vanity one of her many appealing qualities. Now he began to see another side to it. Had she been an awkward child who never realized she’d blossomed into a lovely woman? Or had that malicious old nurse planted seeds of doubt in her impressionable young mind about her looks?
If she honestly doubted her attractions, then perhaps it was up to him to help her see the truth.
Chapter Twelve
Different kinds of beauty? Artemis mulled over that notion during the next busy week as she supervised work on Lee’s new nursery, familiarized herself with the workings of the household and spent as much time as possible with her nephew. Though she still missed Bramberley, there was something wonderfully satisfying about being mistress of a house like Edenhall.
Here she was not constantly fighting a losing battle against decay, restricted by the unrealistic expectations of her uncles. They had required her to perform miracles of economy without sacrificing any of their accustomed comforts. Even when she had accomplished
the impossible, they’d accepted it as a matter of course, never giving a thought to the effort and ingenuity it might have entailed.
By contrast, Hadrian seemed to regard her as some kind of marvel because she could run a household on a wildly generous allowance with an army of well-trained servants. It was so long since she’d received any kind of appreciation she could not help relishing it. She found it harder to accept his compliments on her looks and signs of his attraction. But even there, the constancy and sincerity of his attentions were beginning to have an effect.
Perhaps he was right about there being more than one kind of beauty. There was the indisputable kind on which everyone could agree. Like Daphne’s golden, vivacious charm or the elegant symmetry of a house like Edenhall. But Artemis had also found beauty in the faded grandeur of Bramberley. Perhaps Hadrian recognized a kind of beauty in her, too. He was a remarkable man, so it followed that his tastes might differ from those of ordinary men.
“I smelled paint.” Hadrian’s voice broke in upon her secret thoughts, making Artemis start as if she’d been caught doing something shameful. “So I came to see how the work is progressing.”
When she was absolutely certain her voice would not waver, she replied, “Very well indeed. Everything should be ready for Lee and Cassie to move in the day after next. The seamstress will be coming tomorrow with new window curtains. I ordered them in a nice thick brocade, to keep out drafts next winter, and a golden-brown color to darken the room for Lee’s nap time.”
Hadrian gave a favorable nod. “Thought of everything, haven’t you? He’s a fortunate wee lad to have you looking out for him.”
“And you.” She glanced around the newly enlarged room, freshly painted in a shade of creamy yellow. “I could not have provided him with any of this on my own. He’ll soon be near us both and you will be able to look in on him whenever you like. I’m certain he would be happy to see more of you.”
It puzzled her why Hadrian had spent so little time with Lee since they’d settled at Edenhall. He had been so good at keeping the child amused on their long carriage trip, Artemis wanted her nephew to continue having that fatherly presence in his life. She was certain it would be good for Hadrian, too—regaining a small part of the family he’d lost.
“When the seamstress brings those curtains—” Hadrian quickly changed the subject “—why don’t you order some new clothes for yourself?”
Artemis had meant to speak to him about the new clothes, but there had been more pressing matters to settle first.
“Is there something wrong with the way I look?” Frustration sharpened her tone. “I thought you said I was beautiful.”
Hadrian beckoned her into the hallway, out of earshot of the workmen. “I said you are beautiful, not your clothes. I hope you are not hanging on to your old gowns just to prove you are not a fortune hunter. I was…wrong to accuse you of such a thing.”
Hadrian Northmore admitting to a mistake? Artemis knew what an effort it must have cost him and the gesture touched her. “I suppose I could order a few new gowns for going to church and such. I do not want you ashamed to be seen out with me.”
“That would be impossible.” The glow of admiration in his eyes was too sincere for her to doubt. “But I would like to see you dressed in a way that shows your looks to their best advantage.”
“I must warn you,” said Artemis, “I am not partial to the latest styles. They are too stiff and elaborate for my taste. It is that as much as a lack of money that has kept me wearing my old clothes for so long.”
“If I am paying the seamstress’s bills,” replied Hadrian, “then you should have whatever you wish and fashion be damned. If you are too polite to insist on your own way, blame it on the whim of your old-fashioned, imperious husband.”
Artemis rallied her composure enough to tease him a little. “You are not old-fashioned.”
“But I am imperious?” He pulled a droll face like the ones he’d entertained Lee with on their journey north. “Fair enough. Then I insist you come for a walk in the garden with me. You put me to shame with your industry—supervising the household, overseeing this work on the nursery, spending every spare minute with Lee.”
“I like to keep busy and make myself useful,” said Artemis. “It is no reproach upon you. After working so hard for so many years, it is only right you should enjoy your leisure now. I would be happy to walk in the garden with you. Can we bring Lee with us? He loves the outdoors so and I believe the fresh air is good for him.”
For a moment Hadrian looked reluctant, then he gave a resigned smile. “As you wish. Since all this is for his benefit, I shouldn’t balk at anything that might do him good.”
It was not only the fresh air and exercise that would be good for Lee, Artemis reflected as they headed off to collect her nephew. His entire young life had been spent in the care and company of women. His obvious partiality to his uncle showed how much he craved a strong masculine presence in his life. And Artemis was convinced Hadrian needed Lee, too. The child was his last
living connection to his lost brothers, one final chance to be part of a family again.
With Lee in tow, they headed out to the garden where everything was green and moist from a recent rain shower.
“I like to keep busy and make myself useful, too,” said Hadrian. “Something else we have in common.”
“So it is.” Artemis ran after Lee, who’d managed to toddle ahead of them.
“All my life I took pride in being a hard worker,” Hadrian continued. “Now suddenly I am at loose ends and I have no idea how to fill my time. How do gentlemen of leisure occupy themselves?”
Artemis thought for a moment. “My uncles spend all their time in the library, reading or playing chess. I cannot imagine you being content for long with such sedentary pursuits. Lee, come back here, you little rascal!”
“Don’t coddle the lad.” Hadrian’s voice sounded a trifle sharp. Was it because he objected to her management of the child, or because Lee was diverting her attention from him? “He can’t get far on those short legs of his.”
“I’m not coddling him.” She scooped up their nephew, who squirmed and fussed to be let down. “If he gets out of my sight, Lord knows where he might end up. Eating leaves off some poisonous plant. Wandering away to the stables to crawl under the hooves of those big horses, or down to drown in the beck. When he gets older I can teach him to keep out of danger, but for now he is too young…and too stubborn.”
“Come here, then, you wee monkey.” Hadrian seized Lee from her and lifted the child onto his shoulders. “I used to carry your father around like this when he was not much bigger than you.”
Artemis feared Lee might be frightened to find himself up so high, but he seemed to enjoy the lofty view, squealing with delight and slapping his small palms on the crown of his uncle’s head. She could not help but laugh at his antics even as Hadrian’s mention of his late brother brought her a pang of regret.
To divert him from similar thoughts, she resumed their conversation about gentlemanly pursuits. “One of our neighbors from Sussex, Mr. Crawford, spends much of his time fishing. Of course, Lord Kingsfold keeps very busy managing his estate and your company’s London office.”
Hadrian’s expression darkened at her mention of his partner.
“What’s the matter?” Artemis asked. “Have I said something I oughtn’t?”
Should he tell her? For a moment, Hadrian pretended he had not heard his wife’s question. He’d spent years keeping his past and his troubles to himself. But something about Artemis invited his confidences.
“I was the one who said something I oughtn’t…to Ford. I’ve been thinking if I cannot occupy myself like a gentleman, perhaps I ought to try opening a northern branch of the company. Most British goods for the East Indies trade are produced in the north, so why go to the expense of carting them down to London when they could be shipped cheaper out of Newcastle?”
Just then his nephew crowed, “Ya-ya!”<
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“I agree with Lee.” Artemis chuckled. “It sounds like a fine idea. But what does any of that have to do with Lord Kingsfold? And what did you say to him that you shouldn’t?”
“If I mean to embark on new plans for the company, I should consult my partner.” Hadrian exhaled a sigh. “But I doubt he will want to talk to me and I cannot blame him. When I first returned to England, I went to see him at Hawkesbourne. It was Ford who broke the news of Julian’s death to me. I was so stunned and enraged. I accused him of not doing enough to prevent what happened to my brother. I asked if that was because he considered himself too grand to be of service to people like us. I told him he’d let me down.”
From the anxious set of her features, it was clear Artemis recognized the severity of his breach with Ford. Lee seemed inclined to punish Hadrian for his conduct, seizing a fistful of hair with one hand while smacking him hard on the head with the other.
“Lord Kingsfold did try to help,” said Artemis. “Uncle Henry would not listen, nor would I. When matters finally came to a head, the Kingsfolds were abroad on their honeymoon. And it all happened so quickly, I doubt he could have prevented what happened, even if he had been at Hawkesbourne.”
Hadrian gave a regretful nod. “Ford tried to tell me as much, but I refused to listen. I wish I could take back what I said and make things right with him.”
“Then do it,” said Artemis. “Write to Lord Kingsfold and tell him what you just told me. I’m certain he will understand it was the shock of the news that made you say the things you did. Perhaps he does blame himself, as I did, and needs to hear that you do not hold him responsible.”
Hadrian hated to disappoint her. “You don’t know Ford like I do. The best fellow in the world in many ways, but he is not one to forget a slight or forgive anyone he feels has wronged him. Besides, it is one thing for me to tell you all this, but quite another to tell him when I doubt it will make a difference. You may have noticed I’m not partial to begging. Not even if it is only begging another man’s pardon.”