Margaret clattered down the stairs. Elizabeth chased after her. "Tell her she must put her clothes away." Elizabeth shouted.
"There's no room," Margaret said. "Did you find our trunks? The spices will please Cook. She has few. I'll show her how to make curry and saffron rice."
The Dowager entered from the rear hall. "My dears, you have your treasures. What fun we will have."
Nicola reached for her cloak. "Then I'll leave you to your fun. I wish to hire workers to start tomorrow."
The Dowager sighed. "My child we must wait until Drew remembers to send funds. Though he promised to settle any bills we make, I don't feel comfortable spending money I don't have."
"There's no need to wait. I have sufficient funds to hire enough staff to do the work. Surely we don't need that many."
"La, child, you will exhaust yourself. We are to dine at Baron Rasher's tonight."
"I'll return and be ready in time. I am quite used to long days with much to do."
The Dowager pursed her lips. "Then I won't protest, but you must take one of your sisters. A lady doesn't travel unless she is accompanied by another female. There is no maid to send with you. I am sure Drew will hire an abigail for you. Having a skilled maid is near as important as lineage."
Nicola waved to Elizabeth. "Get your cloak."
She found the village charming and larger than she had expected. With directions from a burly bald man outside the village inn, she found Mrs. Bowen at her sister's bakeshop. Once Nicola explained why she'd come, Mrs. Bowen accepted the position as housekeeper. Her eyes brimmed with tears when Nicola told her the children would be welcome at the manor.
"Oh, Miss, ye be so kind."
"Children should be with their mother. Do you know who else might need work? There's much to be done."
"Don't ye be worrying. I'll find a crew that can do the work and be there early tomorrow morning."
"And Ralph Cummins. Where can I find him? There is need for a carpenter."
"He be my sister's man. I'll speak to him. He'll be glad for work. Times been hard."
"I'll see you tomorrow." Nicola spotted her sister at the gate of the vicarage flirting with two boys about her age. "Elizabeth, we must go. Grandmother won't forgive me if we're late for the Baron's dinner." She climbed into the carriage and waited for Elizabeth.
"'Tis not fair. Why should you have all the fun? I don't see why I can't go."
"Because you were not invited."
"Grandmother could have sent a note. I'm nearly of an age to move in company." Even a pout enhanced Elizabeth's beauty.
"What will Margaret do if left alone?"
"Play in the stables. Blend her herbs and spices. You know she doesn't care if there are others around."
Nicola frowned. "'Twould not be proper for you to come. We must follow the rules of our new home."
"We might as well be in some dungeon."
Nicola smiled. "'Tis not that bad."
"In India, girls are married at my age."
"At almost fifteen. Not among the English community. Cease your nonsense. I find going to this dinner hard enough without taking your complaints with me."
Elizabeth's brown eyes filled with tears. "I wish we had never come here."
Though the words echoed Nicola's thoughts, she knew her sister would never agree to return to India. "Would you like me to tell the Earl I won't marry him and write Cousin Fergus to come for us?"
"You could never do that. We wouldn't be safe."
"You are right, but can you see how childish you are just because you are missing a boring evening. There will be time in your life for parties. When I'm at Baron Rasher's, I will learn if there are girls your age. We can invite them to the manor."
"Here?" Elizabeth made a face. "I would be ashamed."
"Once the rooms are clean, the furniture repaired and new draperies made, Denmere will be a beautiful place."
"I wish we had a pianoforte. I would practice for hours."
"You will have one."
"When?"
"As soon as Sarad and I discover where we can sell some gemstones."
"What gemstones?"
"The ones Papa gave me before he died. I didn't leave them for Cousin Fergus."
"Lord, Nicola, he will be furious. Do you think he will come here and find us?"
The carriage halted in front of the house. Before Jem had a chance to climb from the perch, Nicola and Elizabeth emerged and headed for the front door.
"Why would he bother?" Nicola asked. "He knows about the marriage and the guardianship. There is nothing he can do." She handed her cloak to Greene and hurried upstairs to bathe and change. Though she'd rather remain at home with her sisters, she knew her grandmother had been pleased by the invitation.
* * * *
Nicola stood in the drawing room of Baron Rasher's country house and listened to the hum of female chatter. The long and sumptuous dinner had ended with the women leaving the dining room so the men could enjoy their port and cigars. Though near as large as the great parlor at Denmere, the drawing room seemed cluttered with furniture. Almost as cluttered as the dining room table had been with the number of dishes with each remove. Nicola prayed the Earl preferred a more tasteful display of furniture and in food.
Her grandmother sat beside the vicar's wife on a chair upholstered with material that matched the wall covering. Nicola's three new acquaintances chattered and two of them giggled about Lord Devonley, a guest of Baron Rasher.
The Baron's sixteen-year-old daughter smirked. "So you have caught the Earl. You must share your secret for we never thought he would marry even though 'twas known he needed to find an heiress." Cynthia Rasher's blonde curls were piled high on her head and threaded with pearls. She wore a long strand of pearls around her neck. Nicola thought of the simple hair ribbons that matched her gown and sighed. She tried to ignore the subtle probing.
"They call him the Parson." Barbara Wythe laughed. "'Tis a lie. I've heard tales of his gaming and his women."
"Lord Devonley chanced to meet him at an inn where the Earl entertained four beautiful women," Cynthia said.
'Twas not what happened. Nicola held the words inside. Her lips twitched and she fought to control laughter when she recalled her first meeting with Lord Devonley. Though they hadn't been introduced, she would never forget his astonished look when Margaret had bowled him over.
"You are both wrong." Grace Hopewell, the vicar's daughter, shook her head. "The present Earl is somber and hard-working. Papa says he's a credit to his title." She took Nicola's arm. "I would like to hear about India."
"A heathen place." Barbara's dark curls moved like swaying serpents. "I hear the women walk the streets wearing naught but jewels."
Nicola shook her head. "Though the weather is much hotter than here, the women wear lengths of cloth wrapped around their bodies. Many of them are veiled."
Cynthia held out her hand. "Papa bought me this ring. The stone is a valuable ruby from India."
Nicola touched the gem. "'Tis nothing but a bit of colored glass."
"How dare you." Cynthia glared. "What would you know about precious gems?"
"I helped my father in appraising the gemstones he purchased."
The blonde turned away. "A merchant's daughter. How droll. Pray tell us where Denmere is tonight? Is he ashamed of your heritage?"
Nicola sucked in a breath. "He's in London taking care of business."
"A likely tale," Barbara said. "He's probably at the opera with his mistress." She linked arms with Cynthia and walked to the piano.
Grace Hopewell remained beside Nicola. "Don't take what they say to heart. The Earl dismissed them as a pair of empty-headed children. They are barely old enough to be in polite company."
Nicola had seen the envy as well as spite. As she crossed the room to where her grandmother sat, the men returned. Lord Devonley stared at her. "Miss Gordon, have we met before? All evening, I've been thinking there is a familiarity about you."
> Nicola felt a bubble of laughter move toward expression. "I fear not, my lord."
He stepped closer. "Are you sure you wish to tie yourself to Denmere? Marriage to a man with no money, even though he has a title, could make for a dreary life. I, on the other hand, possess a large fortune."
Nicola took a step back and then another. “Sir, you insult me. Money is no measure of a man."
His dark eyes flashed anger. "I'm a Viscount and addressed as my lord."
Before he could say more, Cynthia Rasher arrived. "La David, I need someone to turn the pages while I play."
Nicola welcomed the interruption. She went to her grandmother's side and listened to Cynthia make a hash of the piece she'd chosen. She wished Elizabeth could show the company her talents. A short time later, the Dowager rose. "My dear, I find I am exhausted. Do you mind if we leave?"
"I would gladly do so. My day was busy and I fear tomorrow will be as well."
As she sat across from her grandmother on the way home, Nicola closed her eyes. Had there been any truth in the tales she'd heard about the Earl tonight? How could she become his wife if he had no respect for marriage? She knew she would not find happiness if gossip and entertaining were to be her life. Did the Earl desire a wife so light of mind? She didn't believe he'd be pleased if she failed to fit his idea of a wife. Unfortunately, she had no idea what he wanted.
* * * *
Drew lifted another letter from the stack in front of him. He read the words he wanted to see. "Miss Agatha Smythe is a firm disciplinarian and has served my family for the past year." He didn't question why the governess had failed to remain with any family for more than a year. He looked up and met the solemn face of the head of the hiring agency. "She will do."
The woman rubbed her hands together. "Now about the lady's maid. Miss Agatha's sister, Agnes, has just chanced to leave Lady Betilda Lowsden and is available. Would it not be a boon to have both sisters in your employ?"
Drew nodded. The mentioned lady was known as a high stickler. Surely any maid Lady Lowsden had employed would be fully aware of the rules of society. "Consider them hired."
After making arrangements for transporting the Smythe sisters to Denmere along with three riding horses, a valet, two grooms and purchases for the farms, he hurried to Tristan's to change. As he dressed, he thought about the news Mr. Grey had imparted.
"Fergus Crawford has departed India in hopes of stopping the wedding. He purports to have a letter from my friend naming him guardian of the three girls and a copy of a betrothal agreement between Miss Gordon and himself. I fear he'll make trouble. He always was a bully and a liar."
Drew tensed. Was this other man the reason for Miss Gordon's reluctance to wed?
"Be still, my lord, or another cravat will be ruined."
"Sorry." After the valet had arranged his cravat, Drew set off for White's.
"Denmere, at last." Tristan waited near the door. "Do you plan to be late to your wedding?"
"I found a governess and a lady's maid. Why the impatience?"
Tristan winked. "We are four gathered to sit in session."
Drew strode into the dining room and held out his hand to the tall man with rich brown hair. "Michael, good to see you. I gather you're a father."
"And a widower as well," Niall said.
"The child?" Drew asked.
"A daughter. She thrives." Michael refilled his glass from the bottle at his hand.
Drew wondered if he'd seen a glimpse of respect in his friend's amber eyes. "So you are still in mourning?"
The Marquis of Fenwick shrugged. "'Tis been near six months. Her mother would have me in sackcloth and ashes, but I've no inclination to play the role of grieving husband."
"What do you plan for your daughter?"
Michael made a face. "If she is indeed mine. Her hair is brown like mine and her eyes are blue. I am told most infants are born that way." He lifted his glass. "She's at Fenwick with her grandmother and her nurse."
"How interesting," Tristan said.
"My mother-in-law had nowhere else to go. Her wastrel husband lost his fortune with his ill-advised investments."
Drew wished he could offer his friend comfort, but he had no idea of what to say. "What have you planned for this evening?"
"A visit to Eugenie's," Niall said.
"She has a new niece," Tristan added.
"Will you join us?" Michael asked.
"I believe I will." Drew looked at Michael. "Will you come to Denmere for the wedding?"
"Why not?"
Niall raised his glass. "We are four well met once again."
Drew settled in his chair. In the morning, he would write Aldora and inform her to expect three guests for the wedding.
Chapter 6
As Nicola hurried to the room where her sisters did their lessons, she heard a cry from her grandmother's room. She threw open the door. The Dowager stood at the window and stared at a piece of paper she held.
"Grandmother, what's wrong?"
"Oh la, what shall we do?"
"What has upset you? Is the Earl ill?" She reached for the paper. The Dowager pressed the letter to her chest. Maybe the Earl realized they wouldn't suit and had written to cry off.
"No, my dearest child. Drew is hale and rapidly completing his business."
"Than what troubles you?"
"He plans to bring that rattle troop of rogues he calls friends here for the wedding. Where will we put them? This house is ill-suited for guests. We were hard put to find useable furnishings for the three of you." She sank on the sofa.
"Grandmother, don't fret. Our furniture from India is being installed in our bedrooms and what was there moved out. We will install the beds and chests to rooms in the west wing."
"You make this sound so simple. The west wing is in a shambles. 'Tis all the servants can do to prepare the downstairs for the wedding."
"Then we'll hire more people to do the work." Nicola sat beside her grandmother. "You will make yourself ill if you continue as you are. If these men are the Earl's friends, surely they know how the estates came to him."
The Dowager used the letter as a fan. "They haven't been here since they were young men on holiday, not even when my husband died. Oh la, what will we do?"
"Please. Friends don't care for appearances but offer understanding."
"They are gentlemen and important in society. A duke, a marquis and a captain in His Majesty's army. Their presence will set the neighborhood in a dither. We must plan a ball and other suitable entertainments. We can't afford large purchases until Drew sends money."
Nicola patted the older woman's shoulder. The letter fell to the floor. Nicola retrieved the paper and read the tersely worded note. His writing and word choice showed the same rigid control as his manners and the coldness of his voice. Had he no thought for the effect of his missive on others?
"Don't worry. I have some gems my papa gave me that can be sold, but I've no desire to travel to London."
The Dowager straightened. "Then we will go to Oxford. I know a jeweler there."
"We?"
"There are purchases that must be made for the wedding. Your sisters and I will need new gowns and we must hire a dressmaker to make your gown. We need new dishes and glassware to replace the mismatched ones we are using."
Nicola shook her head. "There are barrels of dishes and glassware that were Mama's. We brought silks and cottons, enough for dozens of dresses. Elizabeth has a sense of fashion and can help the village seamstress."
"That eases my worries some."
"Then I'll tell Sarad to make ready."
"Drew would never approve of you going alone. What if you are robbed or worse? Surely your father made sure you were well attended in that heathen land?"
Nicola thought of her trips with Sarad to the markets and temples. "Why should his approval or disapproval matter? He left us to solve the problems. How long is the journey to Oxford?"
"Four hours by carriage."
&nbs
p; "Then we'll leave in the morning and stay until Sunday. I'll tell Prabha and Mrs. Bowen what must be done."
* * * *
Nicola leaned back in the carriage and closed her eyes. She wondered about the wisdom of leaving Margaret at Denmere under Prabha's care. The amah had trouble setting rules for the child. But as the Dowager had said, and Elizabeth had agreed, the trip would have driven Margaret mad.
Elizabeth and the Dowager chatted about fabrics and color schemes for the various rooms on the first floor of the central portion of the house. Bertha, the Dowager's abigail, snored. Nicola grasped her reticule and felt the hard shapes of the gemstones she'd chosen to sell.
"We're nearly to the inn," the Dowager said. "After luncheon, we will tour the shops."
Nicola rubbed her eyes. She hadn't meant to nap. Through the open windows of the carriage, she saw a large church and then three more. "How many churches are there?"
"More than I know," the Dowager said. "Drew might. He attended college at Merton as did two of his friends."
"I wish we could visit them all," Elizabeth said. "I would love to hear the organs and the choirs."
"Unfortunately, we're here for another purpose," Nicola said.
The Dowager nodded. "While Nicola and I visit the jewelers, you and Bertha can spend time at the draper's and choose fabric for the parlor and the dining room.’
Two hours later, Nicola, Sarad and the Dowager reached the jewelers with the gemstones Nicola had selected to sell. The man's eyes widened with pleasure when he saw the pair of matching rubies. He crooned over the yellow diamond. Having learned the value of the gemstones in London, Nicola bargained sharply. She left the shop with enough money to run the household in Calcutta for several years.
"La child, 'twill allow us to purchase cloth to cover the chairs and sofas and new draperies in the windows, to purchase paint and paper and to burn beeswax candles instead of tallow." As the Dowager spoke, she entered the draper's shop.
"I'm pleased to see you happy," Nicola said.
"So happy I could cry. You girls have brought more than wealth to Denmere. You have brought hope and joy." She studied the fabric Elizabeth had set aside. "We can purchase these and more."
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