* * *
Diana had endured the reading of the long letter with great patience. But it appeared to be worth it, as she left the Goodwin sisters in good spirits and filled with gratitude to her for having let them read the entire letter, including all their side comments of admiration for their beloved nephew. Although, she suspected they might have been punishing her by prolonging the reading as long as possible.
But now she was finally home and back at her desk, and it was time to continue her sample chapter for Sir Cecil.
“Tommy,” the sister asked her brother, “do you think Mother will have the day off on Christmas?”
“I believe the mill closes on Christmas… at least it did last year.”
“Now that we have given our presents to Grandma we need to find just the perfect gift for Mother—and maybe a Christmas tree. Do you have any ideas?” the sister, Doris, asked.
Tommy thought about that. “Maybe I could find a few days of work at the butcher’s. He once asked if I could help him carry some carcasses into the shop.”
“But Tommy, you are so small, how could you lift a heavy carcass? You might hurt yourself.”
“He might have other tasks. It cannot hurt to ask. Maybe if I work really hard he might give me a chicken instead of paying me.”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea. You do that and I will see if I can find us a tree,” Doris said, suddenly believing they might yet have a real Christmas.
There was a knock at her bedroom door.
“Yes?” She called out.
Father stuck his head in.
“So sorry to disturb you, but you never came by yesterday to read my chapter.”
Diana sighed. “No, and I am sorry, Father. But you might remember I had a rather troubling afternoon, after falling in the river and needing to dry out and clean myself up.”
Father laughed. “Oh, yes. But what sort of Cambridgian are you if you do not know your way around a punt? You put us all to shame.”
“Father, I know you jest. But I am just in the middle of writing something. Could we do this later?”
“I am afraid I have a lecture this afternoon. If you could just take a quick look at it now, I would be so grateful.”
“Oh, very well. Do you have it with you?”
“The chapter is in my study. If you would just…” He seemed flustered. “I am sorry to disturb you, I truly am, but I need to get this to the publisher by tomorrow. And I understand you know about publishing deadlines, do you not?”
“I certainly do.”
She rose from her desk and followed her father down the hallway to his study.
“Have you contacted our solicitors about the loan yet?” she asked as she settled into a chair to read the chapter.
“Oh, am I supposed to do that? I forgot. Might you be able to do that for me, my dear? I have such a lot to do to finish my book. I know you will not mind.”
Diana clinched her teeth but did not explode. “If that will help you, Father, then I shall be happy to help. However, it is getting a little late. We do not want to miss our deadline, and I know you must get some paperwork together to present to the bank when we purchase the new leasehold. And you are the only one who can collect those papers, as the leasehold is in your name.”
“Ah, that is a good point. Remind me a little closer to the deadline, will you, dear?”
“Very well, but remember, I have my work to do as well, and I need you to be responsible for what you need to give to the solicitors.”
“Oh, my… you are being cross with me. And I quite understand.” George suddenly seemed agitated and began turning in circles at his desk.
Diana went over to him and put one hand on his arm and one on his shoulder. “Father, dear… do not panic. We will sit down together soon and work out all the details step by step.”
George settled. “Oh, my dear, what would I do without you? We shall miss you so very much when you are married and whisked away from us.”
Diana sighed, for she knew her father was aging poorly and was suffering from memory loss and confusion from time to time. She would need to discuss the situation with her mother. Perhaps they would need to hire someone to assist him after she was gone.
“Father, please do not fret yourself. I am still here and shall be for some time yet. Let me just sit and read your chapter so that I may get back to my writing.”
Father kissed her cheek. “Very well, my dear. Make yourself comfortable and I shall leave you in peace.”
* * *
Diana had read her father’s chapter and given him her thoughts and comments, and now, finally, she was alone again at her desk even though it was late afternoon, and her Christmas story was calling to her once again.
Tommy ran off to see the butcher as he was closing shop.
“Please, sir, might you have some work for me?”
“And who might you be, young fella?” the butcher asked.
“You asked me to help you unload a wagon not that long ago. And with Christmas coming I want to buy a chicken for my mum’s Christmas dinner. Might you have work for me, please sir? I would be ever so grateful.”
The butcher put his hand to his chin and thought about the request.
“You are bit of a young’un. What could you possibly do that would be of use to me?”
“I could make deliveries for you.”
“I got me a delivery boy—my son. Do not need another.”
“I could empty your refuse bins, or sweep the shop, or wash your windows. Anything at all. And I am a very good worker—and punctual.”
The butcher thought about the offer and then said, “I tell you what. You work for me every day until Christmas. Be early and leave late and I will pay you with two pound a tripe. T’won’t be no chicken, but it will fill your Christmas stomachs.”
Tommy beamed. “Thank you, sir. I will do it. I will be here first thing tomorrow morning. What time, sir?”
“Be here at five o’clock sharp and we will see how well you do.”
Meanwhile, Doris was walking the crowded streets going from one Christmas tree purveyor to another looking for a small tree. She had never told Tommy, but she had collected three shillings and sixpence from selling flowers she had found discarded each morning at the Covent Garden flower market. They were slightly damaged, but she wound them with ribbons from an old bonnet she found in the trash and sold them to ladies on the street.
“Excuse me, mister,” Doris said, tugging at a tree seller’s sleeve. “I have three shillings and sixpence and I would like to buy a Christmas tree,” she said with finality.
The tree seller laughed. “Three shillings and sixpence? That would barely buy you a branch—let alone a tree. Away with you.”
Doris teared up and walked away. She tried three or four different sellers and they all laughed at her and told her to skedaddle.
Finally, she ran home, threw herself on the bed she shared with Tommy and cried, still clutching her three shillings and sixpence.
Diana heard her mother calling from downstairs, “Diana, it is time to start supper. Can you please, lend me a hand?”
Chapter 13
The Viscount of Berwick was at his luncheon. He was enjoying a fine glass of hock with a salad from his hothouse and a pheasant cutlet that his chef prepared just as he liked it with capers and lemon.
He mostly lunched alone, seated at a small table in his private rooms, overlooking his gardens that spread out on either side of the allée of trees that led from the main road up to his estate house.
As he savored the last of the wine, he noticed a horse and rider coming up the driveway. And he could see it was a woman. As she approached, he recognized Amelia in her riding costume. He frowned slightly, as he remembered their last meeting at the disastrous dinner party where he drank far too much, flirted with Lady Hortense, and was sent home by Amelia in disgrace.
Had she come to scold him once again, or did she want something, he wondered? In any case, she would
shortly be shown up to his rooms.
“Danton, I need another bottle of hock. I am expecting Miss Amelia who has just ridden up,” Ludlow addressed his butler who had been serving luncheon.
“Yes, Milord.”
“And show Miss Amelia up.”
“I seem to remember she knows her way, Milord.”
“As a matter of fact, she does.”
Danton nodded and left.
Shortly Amelia appeared, flushed from her ride.
“Luddy,” she greeted as she entered the room. “Am I disturbing your repast?”
“Not at all. Quite finished. I have just asked for another bottle of hock. Do have a glass.”
“Sounds delightful,” she said as she flung herself across a divan near the Viscount’s table.
Danton appeared almost immediately with the wine and poured them each a glass.
“Out for a ride, are you?” Ludlow asked.
“That is what I told Robert, but, in fact, I wanted to see you. Things were a bit rough when I had to send you home.”
Ludlow chuckled. “Indeed they were. And I was very angry with you for so mismanaging my little meeting with Robert. You behaved very badly.”
“Not nearly as badly as you,” Amelia said, standing up and taking her glass of wine to sip at the window. “You were most indecent to our Lady Hortense. She was to be Robert’s main focus for the evening and you were all over her like a swarm of bees.”
“Then you should not have seated her across from me.”
“I did not. That was all Robert’s doing to thwart me.”
“Then he obviously did not wish to have Lady Hortense thrust at him—as you are wont to do.”
“Now, now, Luddy. You must be nice to me. I have come here to forgive you. You do not want me rushing off in anger again, do you?”
“Ah… but will I forgive you?” he said coming up behind her and giving her a small kiss on the neck.
She moved away from him. “I do not believe I am ready to forgive you today, Luddy. You are still too unrepentant.”
“Ah, but there is still the seven and a half percent hovering out there—yet to be collected. Certainly, that should be incentive enough for you to forgive me, no?”
Amelia wheeled around to face him.
“You see, you still need my help. You are powerless without me, are you not?” she gloated.
“You have your uses. And I suspect you came to me today because you still want me to make that deal with your brother.”
“But he refuses to see you. How can I set up an appointment between the two of you?”
“Because he will not be setting up an appointment with me.”
“What?”
“I am putting together a most persuasive delegation to convince your brother of the great value our canal can be to the county.”
“A delegation? Who would be on it?”
“I have several mayors, a bishop or two and a handful of most influential business leaders.”
Amelia smiled and sidled over to Ludlow and put her hand on his chest.
“Are you not the clever one? Most ingenious.”
Ludlow reached over and put his hands around her waist and drew her to him.
“And this time you will succeed in arranging a meeting?”
“Most assuredly,” she said and they leaned toward each other for a kiss.
* * *
“I promised I would collect the copies of your books,” Robert said as he stood at the Browning front door smiling.
Diana was surprised and briefly flustered for a moment, as she had not been expecting Robert to call.
“Do come inside, and I shall fetch the books for you.”
She led him down the hallway to the sitting-room. “I have already signed them, and they are sitting on my dresser just waiting for you to call.”
“I hope I am not disturbing you at your writing. But you said you wrote in the morning so I purposefully came late afternoon.”
“And you are correct. I am currently at the glorious task of peeling and chopping onions for our supper.”
Robert laughed. “Then I have interrupted your tears.”
“And a grateful interruption it is. I will just fetch the books.”
When she left Robert alone, he looked around and studied the pleasant room. How different her life was from his. This simple cottage with its quaint pleasures was so different from the huge estate house that he managed and inhabited with its large staff, spacious rooms, galleries, and individual suites. And once again, he reflected on the pleasures and virtues of the simple life of a university professor. How much he had enjoyed his brief years at university.
“Here you are,” Diana said as she reentered the room. “My humble offerings to the world of romance.”
“And I look forward to reading them.”
Diana seemed to hesitate but then asked. “Would you like some tea? I have some quite nice muffins that mother made for breakfast this morning.”
“Thank you, no. I do not wish to keep you from your chopping and tears.”
“Then come join me. I shall offer you a glass of sherry and you can sit at the kitchen table and criticize my chopping techniques.”
“For a short while, I still have some business to conduct in town before I return home.”
Diana led the way to the kitchen, poured Robert his sherry and resumed her food preparation.
“No sherry for you?” Robert asked.
“Not while I am still wielding a sharp knife,” she said laughing.
Robert once again found himself admiring this fine woman. She worked so unselfconsciously. He noticed she wore a simple dress and some of her hair had escaped pins and a few wisps fell about her face making her look so lovely and free.
“I hope your new dress suits you. Have you had an opportunity to wear it in public yet?” he asked.
She looked up from her work. “Not yet. But it is so lovely. I was thinking of wearing it at the launch of your—our—book in London.”
“Oh, no. This is for your use now. I was planning to outfit you with an entirely new wardrobe for the launch of the book.”
Diana looked surprised. “That is too much, Robert. I could not accept that.”
“Then you should re-examine your contract, for there is a clause in there that stipulates that you are to have a new wardrobe for all of the publicity events for the book.”
“Is that so?” she asked, truly surprised.
“Indeed it is.”
“Is that your doing? For Sir Cecil did not include that clause in my first contract.”
“I might have made a few suggestions.”
“Robert, you are far too good to me. It almost embarrasses me the way you pamper me.”
“Not at all. There is no one more deserving than you. I cannot tell you how grateful I am for your participation in this publishing project. It could not be happening without your support.”
Diana gave him a look with a slight smile, “And how is your new book coming along? Are you getting work done on that, or are you still focused on the publishing of your first book?”
Robert hesitated and played with his sherry glass before answering. “I am ashamed to say I have barely started the new book. It seems to be more difficult to begin the second than the first.”
“But was not your first book based on direct experience? Is that not so for your next book as well? Or is this new one purely fictional?”
“Ah. You have precisely hit on the point. No, my next book is not based on direct experience, and I have to say that is why I am having trouble getting into it.”
“Then what do you plan to do about that?”
“I am thinking I must travel again.”
“That sounds sensible. And I know you enjoy it, do you not?”
“I do. And do you?” he asked.
Diana stopped and looked up as though she were watching clouds and finding images in their shapes. “It is something I have thought of often, but have ne
ver been able to do. However, Adam is arranging our honeymoon to either Italy or Greece, and finally, I shall be able to taste some of my longed for adventure.”
Robert did not like being reminded of Diana’s impending wedding, but said, “I feel certain either country will provide you with a delightful adventure.”
Diaries of a Heartbroken Duchess: A Historical Regency Romance Collection Page 69