by Lynn Morris
Valeria was reminded of Mr. Chalmers’s homily at morning prayers. Charity…love…forgiveness…it’s all very well for Mr. Chalmers, and my mother. They are truly virtuous, pious people, always kind, with no hint of pride. But I’m not like that! I feel—such anger, such bitterness, I can’t even think how to begin to be such a devout Christian!
Still, Valeria felt a strong sense of responsibility to her mother, and she determined that at least she could make Regina proud of her right now. “I will try, Mamma,” she said humbly. “Anyway, I promise you that I will behave with all decorum and grace at dinner tonight.”
“You’re not going to be able to come to dinner tonight,” Regina said matter-of-factly. “You have a headache, and you are excused.”
“But—I really don’t—”
“Yes, you do,” Regina said with a small smile. “You see, I learned a very hard lesson today, dearest. I know that for so long you’ve struggled to protect me, and I have appreciated it more than you can know. But I was wrong to let you struggle alone. I am the one who must protect you and St. John.”
“But how can you? You can’t, I know that you can’t, any more than I could protect you,” Valeria said passionately.
With more determination than Valeria had ever seen in her gentle mother, Regina said, “With God’s grace, I will find a way. I promise you, Valeria, that somehow I will find a way to protect you and St. John, so that we may never have a day such as this, ever again.”
* * *
Just before dinner, Regina brought Valeria a sleeping draught. She had never had one before, and doubted that it would be effective. After the sedative effect of her bath and massage had worn off, she had become disturbed and upset again. She tried to read a novel called Forest of Montalbano, but she found the prose overheated and melodramatic, and couldn’t lose herself in it. In her mind she replayed the events of the afternoon over and over again. She thought she would never be able to sleep.
But she did, soundly and dreamlessly. When Joan brought her toast and tea at eight o’clock, she awakened feeling much better emotionally, though she was sluggish. “Mm, I can’t seem to come all the way awake,” she said, yawning hugely as Joan set her breakfast tray in front of her.
“It’s from that sleeping draught, miss,” Joan said, pouring out the tea. “You’ll feel better after you get up and have a proper breakfast. That is, if you would be going down to breakfast, miss?”
“I certainly am,” Valeria answered sturdily. “I want to look particularly well this morning, so I will wear the lemon sarcenet. And you’ll take care with my hair.”
“Very good, miss.”
Valeria went down to morning prayers and greeted her mother and St. John with a smile. Regina looked pale but composed, and St. John was his usual rowdy self. It seemed to Valeria that Mr. Chalmers regarded her, as he spoke of Christ’s forgiveness of sin, with a special empathy that held no pity, for which she was grateful.
Valeria retained her gracious composure all through breakfast. She even greeted Lady Jex-Blake cordially. Her stepfather didn’t come down, and Valeria was glad, but she was determined to say a pleasant good-bye to him.
As the Bellegarde servants were so efficient, the company was ready to depart by eleven o’clock. Lord Maledon finally came down as they were all gathered in the Great Hall, saying their farewells. He didn’t meet Valeria’s eye as he shook his son’s hand, then gave Regina a chaste peck on the cheek. Purposefully Valeria went to him and said politely, “Farewell, sir. I hope you have a pleasant journey and that the shooting is good.”
He looked surprised, and Valeria thought she could sense some shame in him, although his ruddy face betrayed little of it. “Good-bye, Valeria. Take care of your mother and brother.”
It was the first time that Lord Maledon had ever referred to St. John as Valeria’s brother.
After they left, Valeria felt a strange lassitude. She and her mother spent the afternoon picking flowers and arranging bouquets, and they said little to each other.
At three o’clock Regina asked Trueman for tea, and asked that he tell St. John and Mr. Chalmers to join them.
Elegantly pouring for all of them, Regina said, “Since our guests and Lord Maledon have left, I’ve directed that we shall go back to our old routine. We’re going to have dinner at six o’clock, so that you can join us, St. John, and Mr. Chalmers, of course you must round out my table.”
It was an old joke, that the addition of the tutor at table would make two men to the two women. He smiled happily. “Thank you, my lady, I would be honored.”
“Huzzah!” St. John exulted. “I’m so glad all of those strange people are gone.”
Valeria expected Regina to scold St. John, but she was wrong. With a sweet smile Regina said, “I must admit that I’m glad those strange people are gone too, St. John.”
“You are?” he asked in amazement. “Even my father?”
“Your father enjoys shooting so very much,” Regina answered lightly. “So I’m glad that he was invited to Lord Kincannon’s shooting box, for Clayburn is reputed to have some of the most plentiful birds in the country. Your father will enjoy the season, I know.”
St. John seemed satisfied at this, and began asking questions of Mr. Chalmers about the different shooting seasons.
Valeria often wondered about St. John. Like his marital bond, Lord Maledon’s relationship with his son had deteriorated. Maledon had been wildly happy to have an heir. He had been married before, for eighteen years, to a woman eight years older than he. They had had no children, and the first Lady Maledon had died in 1803, tragically in childbirth; the baby girl had lived for only a few hours. When St. John was born, it seemed that Lord Maledon couldn’t be around the baby enough, and as he grew into a precocious toddler, Maledon was as proud of him as if he were a prodigy. That had all changed in the last two years. He barely took any notice of St. John at all anymore. Valeria doubted that St. John could remember when he was only three or four years old, and Lord Maledon adored him.
But, Valeria reflected as she watched her brother, how animated he was, how bright and cheerful, and she thought that she had little to worry about. He seemed to be a confident, well-adjusted little boy.
In the days following, the household regained the homey, relaxed atmosphere that had become routine over the last couple of years, as Lord Maledon had been at home less and less. Although Valeria was still angry with her stepfather and Lady Jex-Blake, particularly when she rode Tarquin, slowly she came to a better understanding of the disastrous scene at the lake. Painfully she faced the fact that she herself had acted wrongly, for she never should have confronted her stepfather with such heated rage. She tried hard to be repentant for her own behavior, but she simply couldn’t do it, and soon gave up the futile exercise.
But one thing she would not even attempt to do. She would never forgive Lady Jex-Blake…nor the Earl of Maledon.
Chapter Six
AS THEY WERE FINISHING BREAKFAST Regina said to Valeria, “I have an appointment to meet with Mr. Wheeler this morning. I’d like for you to join me.”
“Of course,” Valeria said. “Is this part of my new program for learning more about managing the house?”
“It is,” Regina said. “And after our meeting with Mr. Wheeler, I think you should attend when I meet with Trueman and Mrs. Lees and Mrs. Banyard. I really didn’t comprehend how little you know about managing servants, dearest. You must learn, for after you’re married, managing the household will be your most important responsibility.”
“I don’t ever want to get married,” Valeria said vehemently, then regretted it when she saw the pained look on her mother’s face. The earl and his party had been gone for four days now, but Regina still looked pale and strained.
In a low voice she said, “I promise you, darling, that one day you’ll understand that marriage can be the most wonderful thing in this world.”
“Oh, I suppose,” Valeria said lightly, “it’s just that I don
’t want to wear those awful caps.” Generally married women were expected to wear lace caps at all times, except when they were in formal dress.
“Valeria, you really can be outrageous,” Regina said, now smiling a little. “I expect that if you don’t want to wear them, then you won’t, and you’ll shock all of us dowagers terribly.” They rose and Regina said to Trueman, “We’ll meet with Mr. Wheeler now.”
Regina and Valeria went to the other end of the morning room and seated themselves on the sofa. In a few moments Trueman returned and said, “Mr. Wheeler, my lady.”
George Wheeler was a sturdy, capable, somber man of about forty, with thinning dark hair and rawboned features. He was the earl’s largest tenant farmer, and he also managed the Maledon estate. He had never had a formal meeting with Regina, for he dealt only with Lord Maledon. He looked mystified as he bowed and greeted her and Valeria.
“Please sit down, Mr. Wheeler,” Regina said, indicating a nearby chair. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me and my daughter.”
“Of course, my lady,” he said hesitantly. “How may I assist you today?”
“I believe the harvest is going well?” she asked.
“Oh, yes, my lady. The hay’s in, and I’m expecting to have all the corn in the first week in September.” Corn was the farmer’s all-purpose word for wheat, rye, and barley.
“Very good,” Regina said with satisfaction. “So am I right to assume that we might have the Barley Mow Fair the second week of September?”
For a hundred years the earls of Maledon had sponsored a harvest fair. It was a three-day event, with the locals supplying the booths with their goods and crafts. The entertainment was as elaborate as that of Bartholomew Fair in London, with fire-eaters, sword-swallowers, jugglers, gypsies with trained bears, even wire-walkers. The villagers, farmers, and servants looked forward to the fair throughout the year.
Mr. Wheeler looked troubled. “I’m sorry to say, my lady, that his lordship left me no instructions concerning the fair this year. I did ask him about it, and he said he would attend to it before he left. But I’m afraid it must have slipped his lordship’s mind, for he said naught of it to me.”
“I see,” Regina said quietly. “I’m certain, however, that it is the earl’s wish to sponsor the fair this year. It’s such a long-held family tradition.”
“Ye-yes, my lady. It’s just that—it’s quite an expense,” Mr. Wheeler said hesitantly.
“I’m sure it is. Tell me, does the estate have the funds to finance the fair?”
Carefully he replied, “You would have to consult with his lordship’s solicitors for an exact accounting of the estate funds on hand, my lady.”
“But it has been a profitable harvest this year?”
“Oh, yes, my lady.”
“Then I am authorizing you to expend the necessary funds for the fair,” Regina said firmly. “Let us consult the calendar, here. We will have the fair on September twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth. Will that give you enough time to make the arrangements, Mr. Wheeler?”
“Yes, my lady. That will give me ample time.”
“Very well. Also, Mr. Wheeler, we will have the Earl’s Procession to the Black Star’d Horse on this, the last Friday in August. Please also make the appropriate arrangements with Mr. and Mrs. Davies.”
Mr. Wheeler’s eyebrows shot up. “His lordship will be back by then?”
“No, he will still be in Yorkshire,” Regina said evenly. “But I and my son and daughter will make the announcement.”
“Yes, my lady,” he said, and a furtive look of admiration came into his dark shrewd eyes. “I’ll be glad to attend to it.”
“Then that will be all, Mr. Wheeler.”
“Yes, my lady.” With another deep bow he left.
Valeria said, “I’m so glad you thought about it, Mamma, since apparently Lord Maledon didn’t. Everyone would be so disappointed if we didn’t have the fair. And you handled that wonderfully. At first I thought he was just going to say no to you! That would have been insolent.”
“Not really,” Regina said mildly. “He is, after all, employed by Lord Maledon, not me. I’m afraid I put him in a rather uncomfortable position, but it had to be done.”
“But Mamma, you’re the Countess of Maledon,” Valeria argued. “You have as much right to the Maledon estate as Lord Maledon does.”
“That’s not true, Valeria. When I married Lord Maledon, what was mine became his, but what is his is not mine. That’s simply the way of it, dearest. It’s the law.”
Valeria wrinkled her nose and twisted her mouth with disgust. “Then it’s a stupid law.”
“If you keep doing that,” Regina said with a smile, “your face may get stuck that way.”
Trueman returned, with Mrs. Lees and Mrs. Banyard. “Are you ready to instruct us, my lady?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you.” Regina didn’t ask them to sit down; the house servants never sat in the presence of the family. “First I would like to compliment you, Mrs. Banyard, on the greengage vol-au-vent last night. It was delicious. I believe this was your first attempt?”
“Yes, m’lady, it was. Thank you, m’lady,” she said, her eyes brightening.
“I shall be adding it to our menus when we have guests, for it will surely be a success. I went over the menus you gave me yesterday, Mrs. Banyard, and found them satisfactory. Did you have any questions or requests for me?”
“Just one, m’lady. The last saddle of mutton we received is much too tough. I was wondering if your ladyship might want to exchange the mutton on the menu for venison instead?”
“That will be fine. And if the mutton is indeed so tough as to be inedible, don’t inflict it on the servants either. I suppose you could feed it to the pigs.”
Trueman said, “My lady, the mutton will do perfectly well for the servants’ hall if it is stewed properly. Mrs. Banyard was just acting on the knowledge that your ladyship doesn’t care for stewed mutton.”
Valeria noted with interest that Mrs. Banyard gave Trueman an intensely resentful stare. Regina said calmly, “I understand, thank you, Trueman. Mrs. Banyard, please use your own judgment about the mutton. Is there anything else concerning the kitchen?”
“No, m’lady, thank you,” Mrs. Banyard said quickly. “Everything is just fine in my kitchen.”
Regina said, “Mrs. Lees, I saw that the housemaids’ aprons appear to be getting slightly thin. I would like for you to order each of them two new ones.”
“Yes, my lady,” Mrs. Lees said. She was a buxom, motherly woman of forty-five, with graying hair and a kind homely face. “I’m afraid I must report that I broke one of the tops of the Meissen serving dishes last night. Of course I will pay for the replacement.”
Trueman said in a deep baritone, “Mrs. Lees, that is not precisely what happened, is it? My lady, Joan broke the piece. It is she who should pay for it.”
“Mr. Trueman, in fact Joan was handing the top to me as she was checking in the china after dinner. What precisely happened was that we were both holding it when it slipped,” Mrs. Lees said spiritedly.
“It really is of little consequence, it is easily replaced,” Regina said. “And you all know that I don’t require anyone to pay for breakage if it’s a simple accident. Mrs. Lees, order the replacement and include it in your expense accounting for the month.”
Stiffly Trueman said, “My lady, I must protest, in all conscience. I have found that Joan has become unaccountably irresponsible in the past few weeks. Just today, after I inspected the billiard room, I found that there was a cigar ash on the carpet, underneath the draperies. It really is unforgivable. And last night she appeared to be in such a hurry to finish her duties that it was only through her carelessness that the china was broken.”
Valeria said with some heat, “Joan’s responsibilities have been doubled, you might say, as she has been attending me. And she’s done a marvelous job, too.”
“If you’ll pardon me, miss, that is not an excuse.
If she is unable to attend you and also perform her duties as first housemaid then she is not fit for either position,” Trueman intoned.
Mrs. Lees said, “Mr. Trueman, all of my girls perform their duties well. It was simply an accident that the china was broken. And one cigar ash on the carpet is also just a mistake, that I have already addressed with the maids. That room was an unholy mess, I tell—oh, I beg your pardon, my lady.”
Slight amusement flickered in Regina’s eyes. “It’s quite all right, Mrs. Lees, it might do me good to be reminded exactly how hardworking all of you are. Trueman, I am perfectly satisfied with all of the servants. So, is there anything else? No? Then I’m very glad to tell you now. The Barley Mow Fair will be held next month, on the twelfth through the fourteenth. You will schedule time off for all of the servants. On the first day, as is traditional, as many of the servants as can be spared will be allowed to attend. Mrs. Banyard, on that day you will only be responsible for breakfast, and we will have a simple cold repast for both luncheon and dinner. Mrs. Lees, Trueman, we will not require attendance that day, so you are both welcome to plan on going to the fair.”
Mrs. Lees’s face lit up with pleasure, but Trueman looked as if he had been handed a death sentence. “I will not be attending, my lady, so I will be happy to serve the family that day.”
Regina nodded. “Very well. Also, I want to tell you that the Earl’s Procession will take place on the last Friday of this month. Perhaps some of the servants may wish to take a half day, to join the celebration.”
“That has never been done before, my lady,” Trueman said stiffly. “His lordship never indicated that the servants should take time off for the Earl’s Procession.”
“It is my wish,” Regina said in a velvet-over-iron voice. “That will be all, thank you.”
After the servants had left, Valeria said, “Heavens, I never thought I’d see the stone-faced Trueman in such a huff!”