Diana knew she was asking what kind of tea and replied. “Indian for me, please.”
“Yes, make that two,” Amelia said, and waved her hand, dismissing the waitress.
Amelia placed her elbows on the table, clasped her hands, rested her chin on her hands and said, “Now, then. Is this not fun?”
Diana smiled. “Yes, indeed it is. And is there an occasion for this tea?”
“Oh, my, no. It is just an opportunity for us to get to know one another. That rather unfortunate dinner party gave us no time to visit together—just you and me. And how cozy is this?” she said with an exaggerated shiver to show how enthusiastic she was.
“Then let me ask…” Diana started but was interrupted.
“Robert tells me you and a couple of your friends are to be honorees at the Donnelly fete in a few weeks.
Diana laughed. “Oh, no, he was just joking. He just wanted us to be there. We might judge some baked goods, but nothing more.”
“And just who are these friends of yours? Are they people I should know?”
Diana laughed again. “Nothing like it. The twins—Miriam and Geoffrey, and I grew up together. We laugh and giggle a great deal and mostly just get into mischief.”
Amelia did not appear to support that sort of carrying on and simply said, “Oh…”
“Totally inconsequential.”
“Oh, I thought they might be of the blood. People I might know.”
“Just folks—like me and my family.”
“I see. Then why are you honorees at the fete?”
Diana thought Amelia was belaboring the issue and answered, “Because we are all so handsome and beautiful, Robert thought we might lend some class to the event.” She could hardly keep herself from laughing. “But maybe you should ask him.”
The waitress brought a tiered tray with the cakes and sandwiches and set it on the table before them. Then she returned and poured their tea and left the pot behind, covered in a frilly tea cozy.
The two ladies then added their cream and sugar and stirred before reengaging in conversation.
“Are you a reader, Miss Amelia?” Diana asked, as she took two finger sandwiches and a teacake.
“I browse a few periodicals from time to time, but I am far too engaged in important issues to distract myself with novels or other forms of frivolous fiction.”
“That must disappoint your brother since he is a novelist.”
“We do not see eye to eye on his writing endeavors.”
“But certainly that is his prerogative, is it not? After all, he is the Earl of Donnelly and may do as he pleases, no?”
Amelia gave Diana an icy stare. “He may. But his title comes with immense responsibilities and it behooves him not to fritter his time away on fluffery.”
“Fluffery. I like that word. I must use it in my inconsequential writing.” She picked up her tea cake and took a small bite.
Amelia appeared to realize she was not dealing with a creampuff and would need to sharpen her weapons if she was to challenge Diana more effectively.
Amelia dabbed at her lips with her napkin then draped it carefully across her lap. Then she poured herself a second cup of tea. “Another for you?”
“Yes, please.”
Amelia poured.
“I have noticed that Robert has been visiting you frequently.”
“Yes, we have had a lot to discuss regarding his book.”
“Hmm. And that is all?”
“How do you mean, Amelia?”
“It is important that there not be any romantic expectations on your part.”
“But I am engaged to be married, Miss Amelia,” Diana said with not so subtle edge to her voice.
“Engagements can be broken, is that not so?”
“They may. That is true. Then are you implying that I am an adventuress stalking your brother?”
Amelia took a deep breath. “Not the words I would use, perhaps. But Robert is a handsome, wealthy, and titled bachelor who any woman might aspire to marry if she could get her clutches on him. And I would so hate for you to make that mistake.”
“Is that a threat?”
“No. A friendly warning. And believe me, you will find me a most worthy adversary if you should choose to disregard that warning.”
Diana laughed. “Oh, Amelia, how little you understand me. I admire and respect Robert. He has been most cordial and generous with me in our business dealings. But I assure you, his interest and my interests are purely business. There is absolutely no romantic entanglement on either of our parts.”
“I would not be so sure of that,” Amelia said cryptically.
“Well, I can assure you there is no romantic expectation from me. I am happily engaged and plan to marry a delightful young man.
“And let it remain so. You are totally unsuited to be Lady Donnelly and I want you to be totally clear on that fact.”
“My dear, Amelia. Let me remind you that Robert is the Earl of Donnelly and is quite capable of making his own decisions. And unless he sent you here, specifically, to give me that message, you are wasting your time and alienating one who could be an ally and a friend.”
Amelia sat back in her chair. “I am not used to being spoken to in that manner, Miss Diana.”
“Nor am I, Miss Amelia.” Diana stood. “Thank you for the tea. Give my warmest regards to your brother. And I shall find my own way home. Good day.”
* * *
Diana was not upset by her encounter with Amelia—she was resolute. But it did focus a light on the feelings she did have for Robert. She had denied any romantic attachment, but in her deepest heart, she knew her denial was not true. However, whatever feelings she had must be denied. She was to be married. And she must write.
The next morning as soon as breakfast was over she was at her desk, determined to finish her Christmas chapter for Sir Cecil.
It was Christmas Eve and Tommy had been working hard for the butcher all week. As exhausted as he was, he still felt exhilarated to know that there would be a wonderful Christmas dinner on the table for the whole family. His mother was a good cook and he knew, that even with tripe, the meal would be festive.
“Son,” the butcher said, “I need you to go to the cellar and fetch two buckets of coal and take them upstairs to the fireplace. Misses says she feels a chill.”
“Yes, sir. Right away, sir.”
Tommy ran up the stairs to the living quarters, retrieved two coal buckets by the fire grate and ran down to the cellar. He shoveled coal into the buckets, and lifting with all his might he trudged up the cellar stairs. But as he neared the top, his foot caught on a stair tread and he tumbled backwards.
A short while later the Misses shouted down through a tube the butcher had installed for communication. “Where is that bloody coal? I am freezing my bleedin’ fingers off up here.”
“I sent the scamp to get it. Let me see.”
The butcher went to the cellar door, opened it, and looked down into the dark below. He started walking down the stairs when his foot hit a bucket and it toppled backwards, spilling its load of coal.
“Damnation…” the butcher swore. He started down the stairs and came upon Tommy sprawled out on the floor his arm flung across his face.
“Double damnation…” the butcher said as he picked Tommy up in his arms. He rushed up the stairs and went to the family quarters where he deposited Tommy on an old beat up sofa.
The Misses came over and glared down at the unconscious boy. “What is this all about, then? Where’s my bleedin’ coal?
The butcher turned to his wife and said, “Go get your own bleedin’ coal. Can you not see the lad was injured getting your damn coal?”
“The Misses backed away, mumbling and wiping her hands on her apron.
The butcher turned back to Tommy whose eyes were just now flickering open.
“Tommy, lad. How be ye?”
Tommy tried sitting up but was woozy and didn’t make it beyond resting on his elbows.<
br />
“What happened?” He looked around. “Am I dead and in heaven?”
The butcher laughed. “If ye think this be heaven, you be plumb barmy. You took a tumble down the cellar stairs getting coal for the Misses.”
Tommy was finally able to sit up and he examined his arms and legs for scratches and bruises.
Tommy only had one thing on his mind—the tripe for Christmas dinner. And he was not about to let, what he perceived to be, a small accident prevent him from that goal.
“Sir, I need to go back down. You asked for coal. You will get your coal.”
“Now, that’s more like it,” the Misses said, crossing her arms over her ample bosom.
The butcher was surprised by the lad’s pluck.
“But are you certain you are able to do that?”
“Yes, sir. It will just take a moment. Sorry for the delay.”
Tommy did not want to waste any time, and he hobbled from the rooms down again to the cellar. He could tell he would show bruises and his left knee was scraped, but he also knew he was not seriously injured.
Diana checked the clock and put down her pen. She would need to work on this later. This was an important day. It was time to escort her father and Adam to the solicitors to sign the papers for the leasehold.
As she prepared herself to leave, she heard knocking at the front door. It was, undoubtedly, Adam. He always tended to be a little early. She hoped her father would answer the door. But the knocking continued, so she went to answer it herself.
She opened the door to find a gentleman she did not know.
“Is this the home of Professor George Browning?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Is he available?”
“Might I ask who is calling?” she inquired.
“I am Sir Desmond Gallagher in service of Her Majesty the Queen. Might I speak to the professor personally?”
“Yes, of course, please come in.”
She led him to the sitting-room.
“I will fetch him immediately.”
“Thank you.”
“Make yourself comfortable. He will be right with you.”
Diana raced upstairs and knocked on her father’s study door and went inside.
“Are we ready to leave for the solicitors?” he asked.
“No, Father,” she said, both excited and flustered. “There is a gentleman who asks to see you.”
“A gentleman?”
“His name is Sir Desmond Gallagher and he says he is from Her Majesty.
Father looked at her not comprehending. “The Queen? Our Queen? Victoria?”
“Yes, Father.”
“Oh, my. I hope she doesn’t want to lop off my head.”
Diana laughed. “Oh, Father. You know that could not be the case.”
“Well, one never knows. Perhaps I published something seditious without realizing it.”
“Well, there is certainly one way to find out. Come.”
She offered her hand, he took it, and they went down to the sitting-room and entered to find Sir Desmond examining one of her father’s books.
“I believe I read this at university,” Sir Desmond said. “And you are Professor Browning?”
“Yes, I am. And how may I assist you?”
The gentleman placed the book back on the shelf and continued, “I am Sir Desmond Gallagher, emissary from her Majesty Queen Victoria.”
“Emissary, then you must have a message for me?”
“I do.” He pulled a large envelope from a case that he carried. “Her Majesty wishes to inform you that she has chosen to bestow upon you the Order of Merit for your scholastic excellence and to honor the range, breadth, and contribution of your published works. Congratulations, Professor.”
Her father was speechless, so Diana stepped forward.
“He is overcome with emotion by the honor. Might I accept the envelope for him?”
“Of course. And we will be contacting him shortly with the details of the investiture.”
The meeting was interrupted by knocking at the front door. Diana realized that must be Adam. She quickly checked the clock and saw that their appointment at the solicitors was in just thirty minutes.
“Sir Desmond, I must answer the door, but might we offer you a glass of sherry?”
“That would be lovely.”
Diana turned to her father. “That must be Adam. Will you please pour a sherry for Sir Desmond?”
Father seemed to regain his wits. “Certainly.”
Diana dashed out of the sitting-room and went to the door.
Adam was standing smiling at her. “Are we ready to go? I have the necessary documents from my father for the loan.”
“Come with me.” Diana reached over and grabbed Adam’s arm and led him toward the gallery.
“What?”
They burst into the gallery and Diana cried out. “Mother, come. It is very important.”
Mother stood up at her easel. “Is something wrong with your father?” she asked anxiously.
“Not at all. But come with me. Both of you.”
Diana ran breathlessly ahead to the sitting-room with them following behind.
She proudly announced, “Father has just been awarded the OM. Is that not splendid?”
* * *
As toasts of sherry were being offered, Diana turned to her father and whispered, “Father, the solicitors. We are already running late.”
“Oh, yes. That must be attended to immediately.” He turned to Sir Desmond. “You must excuse us but we have a most urgent appointment we must attend to. Can you forgive us for dashing off?”
“Of course. Are you all leaving?”
“All except for my wife, Ann.”
“Then we shall have a delightful conversation until you return. I still have a number of details I should like to discuss with you.”
“We should not be too long.”
“Father, come. We must leave now,” Diana insisted.
Father nodded to Sir Desmond and gathered together Diana and Adam, and they left to finally secure the leasehold for the next fifty years.
Chapter 17
The House of Lords was in session and Robert and Amelia had gone down to London and were staying in their house in Bedford Square. Robert also wanted to meet with his London property agents to review his holdings and Amelia wanted to shop.
The Viscount of Berwick was also in attendance at the first meeting of the Lords, and Robert did everything he could to avoid the gentleman. However, just as Robert was slipping out of the chambers, he was accosted by Ludlow and a few other honorable gentlemen and he could not conveniently escape without making a scene and embarrassing himself.
“Robert, Amelia told me you would be coming up for the session.”
“As you can see,” Robert answered curtly.
“I am giving an intimate dinner party next Wednesday. You and Amelia must attend. Aggie will be there, as will Constance and the Bradfields. It will be most amusing.”
“I will need to check with Amelia to see if she is engaged that evening.”
“She is. She has already accepted my invitation.”
This put Robert in a most awkward position. “Very well. If she has already accepted then I am much obliged. However, I trust there will be no discussion of your damned canal.”
The Viscount smiled enigmatically and said, “I would not dream of it. Absolutely no discussions of business at dinner. Strictly not comme il faut. However, I know how much you enjoy contemporary literature. I feel certain there are many interesting topics we might engage in at table on that subject. Particularly exploring new books coming out in the autumn. No?”
Robert did not like the sound of that. Had he learned of Robert’s publishing venture? But he was only concerned right now with getting away from the Viscount. He could deal with the consequences of his acceptance to dinner later if need be. One could always find an excuse and a way out of any engagement.
“Good day gentlemen,” h
e said, turning to leave for his chambers where he could remove his ceremonial robe.
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