She smiled but didn’t say anything. They watched a sea gull float slowly across the sky then settle on a dark stone gargoyle on the highest turret. It was a beautiful house, he thought, despite its mixture of Gothic and Tudor lines, but it was the setting that was most spectacular. The house faced the ocean, nestled in a glen to protect it from the winds. Behind it lay an impressive wood and the walled garden, once put to rights, would be quite beautiful.
He envied her Ravenstone. His own estate lay further north and lacked the dramatic landscape. He turned to watch her. Her eyes were closed, her face turned up to the sun. Young ladies did not let the sun touch their face for fear of coloring it. But then Georgiana had never been like any other young lady he knew. She looked content but for the dark circles under her eyes and a deep sadness, which he knew he would find when she opened her eyes. She smiled enough and even laughed more often in the last few days, but he could not help think there was something that troubled her deeply and he didn’t think it had anything to do with Ravenstone.
“You know I saw it before,” she said.
“Before?”
“Ravenstone. When we were at Evansgate,” she said. “I must have been twelve maybe, when I rode over that hill there,” she said, pointing to it. “I thought it beautiful then, a place filled with happiness.”
“Yes, Evansgate isn’t far,” he said. “I had almost forgotten.”
“I was happy there,” she said.
“If you need anything you will send for me, won’t you?”
She turned to him, “Thank you, Charles. There is one thing I need.”
“Anything,” he smiled.
“Bring Jane and Margaret to me, often.”
“Of course. You always were protective of your siblings. God knows you took better care of me than our own parents.”
She took his hand then, and held it. She hadn’t done that since they were children and he swallowed hard, ashamed that as a grown man the gesture affected him so deeply. They sat silently for a while and he could tell by the small frown planted between her brow that she was thinking hard about something.
“Charles,” she began but then hesitated.
He waited patiently knowing what she would ask.
“How is Nicholas?”
He hesitated too long and cursed himself, for she would note it. “He is well enough,” he lied, wanting to protect her.
“Charles?”
She said his name as if admonishing him, and he gave her a long steady look, seeing the questions on her face.
“He is physically well again, but he is much changed, I’m afraid. It is to be expected, I suppose, but in time I’m sure he will find himself.”
“Is he still in London?” she asked softly.
“Would that he were,” he said frowning. “I have it from a mutual friend that he has taken to the sea again.”
“You are worried for him?”
“No,” he said. “He is one exceedingly hard bastard to kill.”
She smiled, but he knew it was for his sake, because the sentiment did not show in her eyes. He should not bother lying to her, because she could read him too well.
“Why does your knowledge of Nicholas come from a mutual friend?” she asked, her face still.
She had hit at the truth of the matter, as he knew she would.
“He does not speak to me,” he said, trying his best to keep his voice even and failing miserably. “Oh, Charles, no,” she cried distraught. “He cannot mean it. You are the best of friends.”
“Had I not given my permission for the marriage, Edward would not now be your husband. But that is not the worst of it, I am afraid. The greater betrayal was that I had not informed him of it in time.”
“In time for what?”
He shrugged. “Nicholas would have prevented it. He would have found a way as he always did.”
“It wasn’t his decision or yours,” she said angrily. “It was mine.”
“Was it?” he asked, trying to understand why she had done it. “It doesn’t seem like you at all, Georgiana, and don’t tell me again that you are changed, for you are not. I have spent some days with you now, long enough to know you again. I fear you have become adept at hiding your true self.”
She took her hand back, folding it neatly in her lap, and he knew he had hit his mark.
“What or who are you hiding from?” he asked softly.
“Perhaps myself,” she said, and smiled with the trite answer. “Edward is not a bad man.”
“He is amiable enough, it is true, but he will gamble away all your money.”
“I know it,” she smiled. “Why do you think I’m trying to spend it so quickly? Mama has strict instructions to beat Edward back to London tomorrow and purchase all that we require before the money is gone. And she means to do it. It seems we have found common cause, after all.”
“And when the money is gone?”
“I will think of a new strategy,” she said, amused.
He studied her, his gaze disconcerting for she looked away toward the house.
“I mean to be happy here, Charles,” she said. “I have my freedom and am removed from the endless maneuverings of society. I am to be envied. It was the right decision to marry Edward.”
“I believe you are right,” he said, giving in.
“It seems right that I should be here,” she said. “I was happiest here in Devonshire. I still wonder how Lord Markham was able to persuade our father to let us stay there so long.”
“I imagine he blackmailed the old bastard. Perhaps there was some political maneuverings Papa needed doing and Markham helped him on the condition we could stay on at Evansgate.”
“Will you really become a Member of Parliament?”
“I have already been appointed to fill Father’s place and will be expected to stand for his seat in the next election.”
“And you are still set to champion the cause of justice then?”
“I shall endeavor to rid the streets of London of thieves and murderers. Davenport will not rest and means to use Father’s murder to gain his cause of reform. He has, I believe, hired two more of the top Bow Street Runners to investigate. Unfortunately, for Davenport, what they have so far uncovered is Father’s true nature in the places of ill repute he frequented. This is all to be kept secret, of course, never to see the light of day. Still, he means to find his man and hang him.”
She was silent, her face hard and unreadable, and he took it as a criticism. “You do not approve?”
“If Davenport was serious about wanting to rid the streets of London of crime, he should focus on alleviating poverty, not creating a larger and more efficient police force. The poor steal because they are hungry. The paper this morning was filled with his new bill.”
“You have read the papers?” he asked, astonished.
“Why should that come as such a surprise?” she asked.
“Because—” he started, but then thought better of it.
“Because I’m female,” she finished for him. “And ladies do not read newspapers.”
She laughed but it was not a happy sound.
“Forgive me,” he said, contrite.
“Whatever for? You are quite right. A young woman could not possibly comprehend the complexity of the issues in a newspaper,” she said, her eyes flashing. “I would do better to restrict myself to much simpler affairs like music and needlework so as not to be thought brash.”
“I deeply apologize,” Charles said, trying to calm her again.
“It’s just that I expect more from you, Charles,” she scowled fiercely. “But it seems I am to be mistaken, and that you are no more capable than the rest of your kind of seeing women as anything other than brainless chattel incapable of independent thought.”
Deeply hurt by her words, he stood to leave but she caught his hand.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t want us to quarrel before you leave.”
She had wounded him, even though he had
to admit that he was guilty of that of which she had accused him. He liked to think himself worthy of her respect, but his ingrained attitudes gave him away with small slips like the one he had just made, which surprised him more than her. He vowed to prove her wrong, but knew it would take time to win her trust again.
“Please, Charles, sit down,” she said.
She sounded distraught and he sat down next to her.
“You’ll have to forgive me, Georgiana. I fear I am conditioned like you say, but I shall strive to be better.”
She smiled at him and they sat talking of safer subjects and watching the boys play. She wanted desperately to see Jane and Margaret again, and made him promise it would be soon. He wondered at her insistence at seeing the girls. He would have thought it a relief for her to no longer have to play nursemaid to them. But she was quite devoted to them, and again he marveled at her ability to want to take care of those around her.
He had wished more for her than a marriage of convenience. She deserved a husband who loved her, someone whom she loved and children of her own to care for. Again, he wondered if he had made the right decision in allowing her marriage to Fairchild.
They sat a long time in the garden talking about Evansgate and he knew that they spoke of it because they had been happiest there. He turned to glance in that direction, wondering if Nicholas was there now, and perhaps at that moment looking toward Ravenstone and thinking about them. Then he shook the feeling off. Nicholas was at sea, and sadly, the better they would all be for it.
12
As Georgiana expected he would, Mr. Madden appeared right after the carriage left for London. Edward, Charles, and her mother were not out of sight ten minutes but Elton announced a Mr. Madden to see her.
He bowed before seating himself on the settee opposite her, commenting upon the new furniture and rug her mother had been able to acquire from a nearby town. Although not up to standard, she had improved upon what had previously decorated the room. It would do until the new furnishings arrived from London. While he catalogued the improvements, she studied him. He was not at all what she had expected.
In her mind Mr. Madden was an old man marked by greed, with a fleshy form and perhaps scarred in some way by his misdeeds. His clothes should have been soiled about the edges and in disrepair, as befitting a lout unable or unwilling to perform his duties. Instead, across from her sat a neat, slight figure with the face of an innocent. He was older than she, but not by much. He seemed comfortable in his own skin, and even more so at Ravenstone. He had not waited for her to ask him to sit down. With that assumption, he was telling her what he wanted made clear from the beginning: he felt at home in her house.
They sat in silence, taking the measure of one another. Then she lowered her eyes, as was expected. “Your mother is better, I take it?” she asked.
“Improving, yes.”
“Most favorable news,” she said, letting the lie stand. “It is unfortunate you missed Sir Edward, for he has this very hour departed to London.”
“Did he not tell you?” Mr. Madden asked.
“Tell me what?” she asked, weary of the answer.
“He must not have,” he smiled. “Sir Edward and I met. He came to see me quite often during his stay here at Ravenstone.”
Already he had the upper hand, she thought, annoyed at Edward. “Indeed, no, he did not so inform me.” Why hadn’t he told her?
“And where exactly is it that you reside, Mr. Madden, for you do not seem to occupy your cottage?”
“It is of no consequence,” he shrugged. “You are making improvements to Ravenstone?”
“Yes,” she said. “They are much needed.”
He smiled but said nothing further. Why did he not wish her to know where he was staying?
“I have need to see the estate accounts,” she said.
“Of course, I shall bring them directly.”
“You do not have them with you?”
“Alas, no, for I do not carry those weighty tomes wherever I go.”
He spoke well for a steward, and she puzzled about his visit if it was not for the purpose of business.
“And so then, why are you here, Mr. Madden?”
He studied her a moment and she found his gaze bordering on insolence, but she awaited his answer.
“Curiosity,” he said simply and smiled.
“You have no skill as a steward, do you?” she asked.
His smile grew wider. “It is rather obvious, isn’t it?”
“The estate has slipped into disrepair in your hands.”
“I cannot claim full responsibility for that, Lady Fairchild. I must agree I have not helped matters but it was already crumbling on my first visit here. I admit to having no head for numbers and the running of an estate is far beyond my skills.”
“And yet my husband keeps you on as steward. Why is that?”
“Why, indeed,” he said making a comical face, but he did not fool her. “He is, as you know, an unusual man, generous to a fault. I do not know what I would do without his good kindnesses to me. I am but a child lost in the woods, I feel, and he my savior.”
She didn’t answer and took closer note of his person. His clothes, though they were simple in their style, were too well cut and stitched not to be expensive. He wore an emerald ring on one hand, and none of his fingers bore even a sign of ink, as hers did.
She had expected a lazy, stupid old man who could be easily ignored. Instead, the young man in front of her was sharp and well educated with a great propensity for falsehood. She also sensed it would somehow be dangerous for her to ignore him. Who exactly was Mr. Madden?
She called for tea and hid behind the façade of a gentle born lady, helpless and easily controlled. It had proven a useful strategy before, and if she wanted Mr. Madden to drop his guard, that facade was her best hope. They sat chatting politely of the weather and the views. She did her utmost to seem dull and amiable, but feared she had shown too much of her true self already.
After his departure, she sat for a moment trying to understand why Edward would allow the man to remain employed if he clearly was not suited to the position. Even Edward could not be so beyond care in his estate duties as to hire a man unable to run the estate, and then keep him on after his failure was known. Except clearly this was exactly the situation, and Mr. Madden cared not that she knew it.
That left two possibilities. Madden either believed she had no power to change the arrangement, or she really didn’t have the power to change it. She preferred the first, but already knew the second was true. Edward had already refused to allow her to dismiss him. But why? What hold did he have on Edward? This was what she needed to discover. Only then did she have hope of changing the situation.
***
“Look to it, Elton. Lock the door,” she cried as Rupert and James made a run for it with Dixon chasing close behind them. Elton managed to slam the kitchen door and lock it before the boys reached him. They dodged his arms and ran around the kitchen table trying to make it to the other door and out into the garden. Cook blocked the way, a wooden spoon in her hands and with such a fierce scowl that it gave them pause sufficient enough for Dixon to catch Rupert. James slipped under the table, eluding the adult hands that tried to reach for him.
Their protestations made Georgiana smile until Rupert bit Dixon’s hand. Thankfully, the young footman would not be denied and held onto the boy, cuffing him on the ear to stop him. Rupert glared at the servant, but calmed down enough for Dixon to remove the boy’s clothes and dunk him in the tub of warm water. Georgiana sat on a chair next to the bathtub and scrubbed her stepson clean.
With soap in hand, she bent to the task of washing the dirt from his skin, getting soaked for her trouble as he struggled. Dixon turned to help Harriet who had managed to get hold of James’s leg and was trying to pull him from under the table. James had his hands firmly wrapped around the table leg and held on for dear life, screaming at the top of his capability.
Th
e kitchen door burst open and Peter and Harry with pitchforks in hand, arrived ready to defend their young friend, only to stop dead at the sight in front of them. Everybody froze, including James.
“It’s alright, boys. It’s just bath day,” Georgiana said, and returned to her task.
James received a severe scolding from Peter who managed to get him into the bath without so much as a shove. He sat in the water looking completely miserable as if death would soon follow. He was given strict instructions to do as he was told or deal with the consequences, at which point James gulped and nodded his small head sadly. Then Peter and Harry turned to exit.
“Oh, boys,” Georgiana said sweetly, stopping them as they were about to leave. “When I’m done with these young lads, hot water will be ready for both of you. Do bring Eye along as well. I think we are going to shave heads today, for all of you are still scratching.”
Their faces paled but she received two short nods before they left.
“About time,” Cook mumbled as she closed the door. “The stink on them is something fierce. I don’t want the likes of them in my kitchen as it is, but with the stink it is asking too much.”
After they were clean and dried, Dixon carefully shaved their heads and they were dressed in clean clothes. He escorted them upstairs to the schoolroom where they would meet their new governess. Tomorrow, lessons would start.
“Do you think the governess will stay?” Harriet asked as she swept up the hair from the floor.
“I hope so,” Georgina sighed. “I’m paying her more than enough. My mother said she comes highly recommended.”
Elton stood by the door waiting for instructions, and she frowned.
“Elton, come sit down at the table,” she said.
He raised an eyebrow but moved forward to take a seat. He had worked hard in the last month and the strain was showing. With the house filled with people, he had been constantly on his feet.
“I have arranged for you to retire,” she said, and was dismayed to see him pale at the news. It was not the effect she had hoped for.
“As you wish, madam.”
She looked at Harriet but found no help there.
Ravenstone (Book 1, The Ravenstone Chronicles) Page 17