“I wouldn’t mind.”
“You need to be with Elizabeth.” John seemed agitated by the idea.
“Is it the fact that they are workers’ children? I thought you were open to having them play with Elizabeth?” Susan said a little sternly.
John wagged his hand. “I have to say I’m still ambivalent about that. I’m sorry. I know I was supposed to put together a list of neighbors with children for you. But I’ll think about it.”
When they arrived back at the house, John carried Elizabeth up to her room and laid her on her bed. Susan removed her shoes and pulled back the bed covers to slip her underneath.
“She missed her nap,” Susan said, pulling the covers back up. “I’ll let her sleep for now and make sure she has her supper when she wakes up.”
“Thank you for your help today. I look forward to working with you on the school. I can see by the way you are with Elizabeth that you are an excellent teacher.”
He reached out and put his hand on Susan’s arm. And once again she felt that charge of energy surge between them.
“Thank you. And I hope I live up to your expectations with the school as well.”
“I’m sure you will.”
John smiled and looked into her eyes and lingered until she needed to turn away.
“I’ll see you at supper,” she said before turning back to check on Elizabeth.
“Until then.”
Then John left. Susan made sure Elizabeth was sound asleep before going to her own room. As she entered, she was pleased to find a letter from Daniel on her desk. She went to the window seat and snuggled in and opened the letter.
My Dearest Susan,
What a delight it was to see you on my brief shore leave. But alas, it is time for me to leave again. I know you have responsibilities with your charge, but I had hoped I might see you again before I left. But it was not to be so.
Those rascal American cousins of ours are acting up again and there is talk of a new war. However, my next assignment appears to be a routine voyage to Jamaica. There are pirates operating in the region again, so we are to go hunt us a few. Am hoping for a jolly chase and a successful and quick sail home.
I had time to find a little token of my affection for you. Something other than a ribbon from my hat. And I have left it with Katherine. Know it expresses my sincerest love for you.
I so long to see you again and I pray you wish me a fair wind both going and coming home.
All my deepest affection,
Daniel
P.S. Katherine asks me to tell you she wishes to come visit you soon and will send you a note when she can propose some times.
Inside the letter was a dried autumn leaf she remembered him picking up during their walk by the river.
Susan sat in the window seat contemplating the letter while gazing outside at the fading afternoon light. She folded the letter and put it back in the envelope.
It was nearing suppertime and she needed to check in on Elizabeth and see if she was stirring yet. She must be hungry by now after her vigorous playtime this afternoon.
As Susan left her room, she saw Clarissa walking down the hallway.
“Is it suppertime already?” Susan asked.
“Nearly. But I’m just headed to the laundry to check on today’s washing. I need to keep on top of those maids, you know. And how was your outing?”
Susan told Clarissa about Elizabeth’s new friends and how suitable the house was for the school. She also said that John seemed reluctant to allow Elizabeth to play with the village children.
“What do you think about that?” Susan asked.
“It seems like an excellent idea to me, but I’m not His Grace. He’s in a different positon than we are, and he has standards to uphold.” Clarissa leaned in and whispered. “It’s bred into them, you know. A little bit of snobbery is in the blood.”
Susan laughed. “But I think he wants to change that.”
“Don’t push it. Drop subtle hints, but let him think it’s his idea. Understand what I mean?”
Susan nodded.
“Then I shall see you at supper, my dear.” And Clarissa moved on.
Susan went to Elizabeth’s room to check on her. The girl was already up and sitting at her table practicing the letters Susan was starting to teach her.
“I’m having a hard time with my b’s. They look just like the h’s,” Elizabeth said.
“That’s fine. It just takes practice. Are you hungry? Are you ready for your supper?”
“In just a minute. I want to practice the m’s and n’s first.”
As Susan waited, she stared out the window. However, something was nagging at her. But she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She had been happy to get Daniel’s letter, but she couldn’t get John out of her mind. There was something about him that had struck her in the carriage ride home. It was the slope of his neck as he was turned looking out the window, and the way the light played on it. It profoundly moved her and she didn’t know why. She felt ridiculous, but she couldn’t shake the image from her mind or the way that it made her feel. She had to laugh. She was, truly, becoming silly.
Chapter 16
The house was a hive of activity. The staff was preparing for the arrival of guests. There was to be an extended house party—the first in a very long while—the first since before the death of the mistress. Guest rooms were to be opened up and prepared. Food needed to be planned for, wine selected, and the grounds spruced up. Windows needed washing and horses were to be ready in case the guests wanted a riding party.
Susan was visiting Clarissa for tea while Elizabeth was taking her nap.
“Do you know these guests who are visiting Haverford?” Susan asked, as she took a cucumber sandwich and put it on her saucer next to her cup.
“I do not. All that John told me was that one was a friend of his from university days. And I believe he is coming with a party returning from France.”
“I had been thinking to invite my friend Katherine to come visit me this week, but would that be disruptive with houseguests?”
“Actually, that might be a good idea, as the servants are already preparing for guests. One more, certainly, won’t matter. How long might she be staying?” Clarissa asked.
“Oh, I thought just one night. We want to have a good gossip and a sleepover—like a couple of kids. We’ll probably natter until the wee hours and get crumbs all over the bed. It’ll be such fun.”
“Will you need any help with Elizabeth while she’s here?”
“I don’t think so. Katherine wants to meet Elizabeth and see what I’m doing, so I’ll introduce her as a friend and she can participate or watch depending on what we’re doing that day.”
“More tea?” Clarissa asked.
“Yes, please.”
Clarissa poured.
“I have to say these guests seem to be coming at a most awkward time. The Duke has already started the sheering which will continue for a week or two longer—with long, sweaty hours each day. How ever will he be able to entertain?” Susan asked.
“I think his workers will do most of the actual sheering. He’ll mostly be supervising. And he has a good crew who knows what they’re doing. If he needs to spend time with his guests, I’m sure he’ll be able to arrange that.”
“You see; I’m used to the way my Papa does things. He’s a much smaller sheep operation and he and my brother do almost everything by themselves.”
Susan noticed the time.
“I must wake Elizabeth or she’ll be too jumpy later and won’t want to go to bed at her usual time.” Susan stood to leave. She looked at Clarissa and a wave of affection surged through her. She went over and gave Clarissa a hug.
“You have been so wonderful I feel like you are family and I want you to know how grateful I am for all you’ve done for me.”
Clarissa patted Susan’s cheek.
“Thank you, my dear. I couldn’t ask for a better friend than you. Having you around brighte
ns everything.”
* * *
The carriage pulled up in front of Haverford House mid-Saturday morning as expected. John was dressed rather more formally than his usual casual work clothes.
Standish and an array of footmen were standing by to attend to the guests and their luggage.
First out of the carriage was John’s friend, Bentley Comerford, O.B.E.—John’s old college friend. He was not portly but he was well rounded. He had shaggy, sandy hair and freckles. His large ears stood out from the side of his head, branding him with the title of windmill since he was a lad in public school.
“John!” he exclaimed, extending his hand.
“Bentley, welcome,” John replied. “Did you have a good crossing?”
“Excellent. Smooth as a lady’s bottom,” Bentley said, vigorously shaking John’s hand.
Next, helped out of the carriage, was Bentley’s wife, Patricia—a diminutive, mousy woman with tiny eyes who wheezed when she became excited, as she was now.
Bentley reached out his hand to his wife. “You remember my wife, Patricia, do you not?”
“Most certainly,” John replied. “What a pleasure to see you again. And how are your darling children?”
She giggled as she answered, “Like little squirrels, jumping from branch to branch. Never still. You know.”
“I see. Well, you are most welcome. I hope you have an enjoyable stay at Haverford House.”
“I’m sure we shall.”
Next out of the carriage was Sir Andrew Cull, who turned to help his companion, Fiona Fitzwilliam stepped down. They came forward to meet John.
“John Chamberlain,” he said, introducing himself.
Sir Andrew gave a deep bow. “Your Grace, I am Sir Andrew Cull, at your sincere service.”
This seemed overly formal to John, but he nodded in return. “Sir Andrew, a great pleasure.”
Sir Andrew was most unlike his mousy sister, Patricia. He was relatively tall and quite handsome. He had his long, black hair pulled back from his lean face. He had rather penetrating eyes, and John couldn’t help but think of the eyes of a fox, watching the hen house.
Sir Andrew turned to his companion. “And this is my dear friend, Miss Fiona Fitzwilliam.”
“At your service,” John said, nodding.”
“Your Grace,” she said in a whisky voice, with a sly smile, curtsying slightly, but keeping her eyes glued to John’s face. “But please, everyone dear to me calls me Fitz.”
Fiona was a stunningly handsome woman. She had quite lovely red hair, exquisitely done up. She was slender and wore a form fitting dress that showed off her ample cleavage to its best advantage. She knew what she had and how to show it off.
“Welcome, John said to them all. “Won’t you please come inside? Let us celebrate your arrival with a glass of wine, and then Standish will show you to your rooms.”
As they were entering the house, Fitz maneuvered close to John, and placing her hand on his arm, quietly said, “Sir Andrew and I require separate rooms in case you’ve arranged otherwise.”
John turned to her. “Of course, Miss Fitz. I assumed as much.”
She nodded, and smiled sweetly, lowering her eyes but keeping him clearly in her sight as she followed the others inside.
The company went into the sitting room where Standish was serving glasses of a cold white wine. John went over to where Bentley and Patricia were standing.
“How was Paris?” he asked. “It’s been a number of years since I was last there. Bonaparte had been banished to Elba by then. Have things changed much since he’s gone?”
“Don’t know much about that, old man,” Bentley said. “Politics has never been my strong point. We were there for pure recreation. Let the Frenchies have their revolutions and wars. We were only interested in wine, song, and gaiety.”
John was beginning to wonder if it was Bentley who had changed so much, or was it him? Had they really been close friends? Bentley seemed supremely superficial and now John was beginning to dread their visit. But he was determined to be the perfect host as long as necessary.
He turned to Patricia. “I’ve not met your brother before. Do you have other family?”
“He’s my only sibling. Mother passed away several years ago and my father lives with us in London.”
“My sympathies.”
“Thank you.”
John turned to Bentley, “You must forgive me, I am in the middle of the sheering season and that will require me to be absent for part of each day. However, Standish will be at your service should you require anything or if you would like to go riding or walking. And feel free to explore the house. It has some fine treasures you might enjoy.”
“How about some shooting? Rather fancy taking down a covey or two.”
“We can arrange for that. I’ll make time in my schedule to do that.”
Sir Andrew and Fitz came over to where Standish was standing by to refill their glasses. After topping up, Fitz came over to John.
“Are we to have any dancing?” She asked, placing her hand on John’s arm again. “I always enjoy a turn around the floor.”
“I’m afraid not, Miss Fitz. We in the country are more prone to quiet evenings of reading, conversation, and then early to bed.”
“Early to bed sounds nice,” she said, letting the implication linger in the air.
John couldn’t help but notice what a handsome woman she was. That reminded him of the fair Miss Susan. But she had her Captain, as he had learned recently, and was unavailable. And that led him to think about how difficult it was to meet fine women, stuck out here on his vast estate far from the social whirl of London.
John turned to address the group. “You must excuse me. I must do a bit of work before play. Standish will show you to your rooms and we shall meet up again at teatime. Please enjoy yourselves and I shall see you all later.” Then he turned and left.
* * *
It was mid-afternoon, just before Elizabeth’s nap when the schoolroom door opened and an unknown man and woman appeared.
“Hello,” the woman said leaning into the room. “May we?”
Susan had no idea who she was but guessed she was one of John’s guests.
“Please do. We are doing sums.”
“I am Miss Fitzwilliam and this is Sir Andrew,” she said as she ushered herself into the room, followed by Andrew.
Elizabeth was not quite sure about this and she withdrew into herself and turned away. Susan, of course, saw that and she placed her hand on Elizabeth’s back.
“Oh look,” Fitz exclaimed as she rushed over to the window overlooking the park. “They have a lake. We must take a paddle, what do you say?” she addressed Andrew.
He went over, totally disregarding Susan and Elizabeth and gazed out the window.
“My dear, you have the most arcane notions. Why ever would I want to paddle? I’m no longer six-years-old.”
“It would be fun. We are in the country. We should do country type things, don’t you think?”
“Excuse me,” Susan said. “I’m giving a lesson right now. If you’d like to sit and observe, that would be fine.”
Fitz turned and looked at Susan and Elizabeth like they were an exhibit in a zoo. “What are you teaching?”
“Sums. It’s almost nap time, and we need to finish up,” Susan said firmly.
Fitz turned to Andrew. “Nap time, good heavens. Nanny is going to scold us and not give us our hot milk and biscuits if we are not good little girls.”
“Speak for yourself,” Andrew squeaked as he flipped his hand at Fitz’s shoulder.
“I think we’d better go,” she said in a mock whisper. “I can see the help is uppity.”
Susan was shocked at their rudeness as they flounced out of the room.
She turned to Elizabeth who was now crying. She would need to have a word with John about his guests and their manners.
* * *
Susan was so relieved to await Katherine’s arrival the next
morning. Even though she had been expected to attend dinner the evening before with the guests, Susan excused herself. She was still burning with anger at that Fitzwilliam woman and Sir Andrew. She knew she could not be polite and told Clarissa she was not feeling well and asked to be excused. Susan had thought it best not to give Clarissa an accurate account of her encounter with John’s guests. As she reminded herself, she was, after all… just the help.
Diaries of a Heartbroken Duchess: A Historical Regency Romance Collection Page 16