The Baron's Honourable Daughter

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The Baron's Honourable Daughter Page 12

by Lynn Morris


  Valeria considered this. Though she was reluctant to ask favors from him, in a way his detachment was a sort of relief to her, especially since he seemed to have no expectation that she should be grief-stricken. Also, though she felt confident that she could take care of her brother and her mother, and even take charge of the household, she was very unsure of all the things that must be done in the aftermath of the earl’s death. Finally she answered, “Sir, it would be a very great service to me and my mother if you would consent to stay at Bellegarde for now. I know I will need your assistance, and advice. While my mother is unwell, it will necessarily fall to me to deal with matters, many of which I’m sure I am not qualified to manage.”

  “Somehow I doubt that,” he said gravely. “But I will help you in any way that I can, Miss Segrave. It will be my honor.”

  * * *

  Craigie told Valeria and St. John, “You mother is ill and weak, but she insisted she wanted to see you as soon as you arrived.”

  They went into Regina’s bedchamber. All the heavy velvet draperies were closed, and the room was as dark as midnight of the new moon. A single candle burned in a far corner. Regina was lying in bed with her golden hair spread about her on the pillow. A cloth lay over her eyes. When Valeria and St. John reached her bedside she removed it and looked up at them with tortured red-rimmed eyes. Weakly she whispered, “Oh, my darlings, I’m so very sorry I’m not feeling well…I’ll try to get up later, to take care of you…”

  “No, Mamma,” Valeria said gently but firmly. “You must rest. I am quite well, and St. John is being very strong. Craigie and Platt and Niall and I will take care of him, you know. And Lord Hylton is here, he has consented to stay until Lady Hylton arrives. All will be well.”

  “Thank the gracious Lord for His loving-kindness,” Regina murmured. “St. John, I promise you that I will be fine by tomorrow, my love.”

  “Yes, Mamma,” he said obediently. “Veri is sending Dr. Thaxton to you, and you know he always makes you feel better. Don’t worry about me, just get well.”

  Fresh tears welled up in Regina’s eyes, and her face twisted with pain. Valeria soaked the cloth in the basin of cool water at the bedside and tenderly replaced it over Regina’s eyes. “Rest now, and don’t worry yourself about us, Mamma.”

  They slipped out of the room and Craigie returned to attend Regina. Valeria said, “St. John, why don’t we go to my bedchamber and talk?”

  “All right, Veri,” he said in a subdued voice.

  They sat down close together on Valeria’s recamier. “St. John, I know how hard this is for you,” she said quietly. “You know, my own father died when I was even younger than you are now. I remember very well how sad I was, and how lost I felt.”

  He looked down and picked at his trousers. In a small voice he asked, “You loved your father a lot, didn’t you, Veri?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  He nodded. “I wish…I wish…I feel bad, because I…p’raps I should be crying, shouldn’t I?”

  Suddenly Valeria knew exactly what was most troubling to St. John. It wasn’t because he loved Maledon so much that he was devastated; it was because he didn’t feel a terrible sense of loss for the father he’d barely known. She put her arms around his shoulders and pulled him close. As St. John had gotten older, he had, as boys do, come to disdain hugs and kisses, but now he clung to her and buried his face in her shoulder. “St. John, your father loved you so very much. When you were born, he said it was the happiest day of his life, and that you were the very best thing that had ever happened to him. And you loved him, St. John. Don’t think any of this is your fault, or that you failed your father in some way. You’re a good son, and he was proud of you.”

  And finally St. John cried.

  After a time his tears dried up and he seemed to feel better. “Veri, since Mr. Chalmers isn’t here, could I please stay with you?” he pleaded.

  Valeria chided herself for not having thought to send for St. John’s tutor. She knew that Gordon Chalmers was a sort of anchor of security for St. John, much as Craigie had been for her when she was a child. “Of course you may,” she answered. “I’m afraid there is much dull business to be attended to, however, and you may find it tiresome. I believe I’ll send for Mr. Chalmers, and later you and he and Niall can join me for supper.”

  St. John brightened somewhat. “That would be jolly. No, I don’t mean jolly, of course…”

  “It’s all right, St. John. I know what you meant. Now, we’d better go on downstairs and attend to poor Lord Hylton, who’s probably wondering what to do with himself.”

  “And will you tell him what to do with himself, Veri?” St. John asked with innocent childish curiosity.

  “I rather doubt that anyone tells Lord Hylton what to do,” she said dryly.

  They went downstairs and found Alastair in the morning room, as the drawing room was not opened and aired. Trueman stood by the sideboard that held the spiritous liquors, and since Lord Hylton hadn’t wished to have a drink, Trueman seemed at a loss for what to do.

  Valeria said briskly, “Trueman, assemble the servants here, I need to speak to them.”

  “But, miss, many of them are still at the fair,” he said hesitantly.

  “Then bring whoever is here,” Valeria said shortly. Still the butler looked slightly confused. It raised Valeria’s ire when Trueman seemed to look to Lord Hylton for instruction, but she hid her resentment and continued calmly, “Trueman, I know that we’ve all sustained a great shock, and I know that the house is in confusion because of that, and the fair. But just now I need to speak to the servants who are here, and then when the others return, you and Mrs. Lees may explain to them.”

  “Yes, miss,” he finally said, and left.

  Alastair commented, “What a proper butler he is, to be sure. I always think that such men have icy water rather than blood in their veins.”

  Valeria sighed. “Yes, and he’s been with the earls of Maledon since he was ten years old. He started out as a hall boy, and by the time he was twenty-eight he was the butler. In some ways I think this will be almost as hard on the longtime servants such as Trueman as it will be on the family.”

  St. John asked Alastair, “Sir, you said you were my cousin, and so you must be my father’s cousin too. Were you friends with him?”

  Alastair considered the question for long moments before answering carefully, “I knew your father well, I should say, because our two families have been close for a long time, and also because we sat in the House of Lords together, and had many meetings. But your father was somewhat older than I, and so we had different people for friends.”

  St. John seemed satisfied at this, and Valeria appreciated the discreet wisdom Alastair showed in answering the thorny question.

  Trueman returned with Mrs. Lees, Mrs. Banyard, Ned, Royce, and Joan. The other servants were still at the fair. They all curtsied and bowed respectfully.

  Valeria said, “I assume you all know by now that Lord Maledon has died. It is particularly difficult, because the house is all at a standstill since many of the servants are not in attendance. But my mother and I understand this, and we know that everyone will do their very best to set things aright in these difficult coming days.

  “Lord Hylton has kindly consented to stay here at Bellegarde to assist us. He has had a long, difficult journey here from the north country, and his man didn’t travel with him. Ned, you will attend Lord Hylton and act as his valet. I assume, Lord Hylton, that this is agreeable to you?”

  “Yes, Miss Segrave, I’m grateful for your consideration.” To Ned he said, “Collect my trunk from my carriage, and also see to my coachman’s accommodations.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Ned said, and hurried out.

  Valeria said, “Royce, do you know the Chalmers farm?”

  The handsome young footman replied sturdily, “Yes, miss, just southwest of the village.”

  “I want you to take a message to Mr. Chalmers as to what has occurred, and a
sk him to return to Bellegarde as soon as possible. I’m sure it will relieve my mother’s mind to know that he is here. You may go.”

  Next Valeria turned to the cook, who looked bewildered, as if she were in shock. “Mrs. Banyard, I know that tonight we were expecting only a simple cold collation for supper, and that is still perfectly acceptable. However, we are hoping that tomorrow—” She glanced cautiously at St. John. He looked subdued, but not stricken. She continued, “Tomorrow we hope that Lord Maledon will arrive, accompanied by Lady Hylton and Lord and Lady Lydgate. I intend to ask them to stay here at Bellegarde for a few days. I realize this will put a strain on you, to make arrangements for guests just now, but do what you can to assure that we have foodstuffs and supplies. In the morning you may submit menus for two days only, and we will go on from there.”

  “Ye-yes, miss,” she said.

  “Mrs. Lees, guest rooms must be aired and ready, and also I know you will assist Mrs. Banyard and the kitchen staff.”

  “Yes, Miss Segrave,” Mrs. Lees said. “Don’t worry, miss, we’ll have everything readied and well in hand by tomorrow.”

  “Thank you. That will be all, Mrs. Lees, Mrs. Banyard. Joan, I shall need to speak to you later about some other arrangements that must be made, but for now just help Mrs. Lees.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” she said. The three ladies left, leaving only Trueman.

  Now Valeria fell into a brown study, her brow furrowed. After long moments she glanced at Alastair uncertainly. Smoothly he said, “It’s very difficult to think of all of the things that must be done at times like this, so may I assist you with some advice, Miss Segrave?”

  Gratefully she replied, “Yes, thank you, sir.”

  “Messages must be sent to the solicitor, the bank, and to Lord Maledon’s London physician.”

  Valeria nodded. “Truman, I believe all of the papers and records are in the earl’s study?”

  Reluctantly Trueman replied, “Yes, miss. They are in a locked drawer in his desk.”

  “And you have the key, I presume?”

  “Yes, miss.”

  “Well then,” Valeria said evenly, “please come with me to unlock the drawer so that I can make these arrangements.”

  A very faint look of stubbornness came over Trueman’s face. “I beg your pardon, Miss Segrave, but I’m not certain that would be perfectly proper.”

  Valeria frowned darkly. “And why not, may I ask? These things must be done, and immediately.”

  “Oh, yes, I’m aware of that, miss,” he said with a supercilious air that made Valeria want to shout at him. “But this situation has put me—and, if I may be so bold, you, miss—in what might be called a delicate situation. It seems to me that it is her ladyship who must attend to these matters.”

  “But Lady Maledon is indisposed, and quite unable to attend to them right now,” Valeria said with a steely note in her voice. “I am perfectly capable of representing her.”

  “But you do not, you cannot, represent the earl, ma’am,” Trueman said with a stony face.

  “But Trueman,” St. John said in a small voice, and the adults were startled, for they had all but forgotten the forlorn figure huddled in the corner of a sofa. “I am the Earl of Maledon now, am I not?”

  Trueman’s eyes widened. He was speechless at first, and then he managed to answer, “Yes, my lord, that is true.”

  “Then I want Veri to help me,” he said sadly. “For I don’t know what to do, and my mamma is ill, and Veri is clever and knows things. I think you should let her have the papers.”

  Trueman, after long moments, bowed deeply. “Yes, my lord. Miss Segrave, I will show you where the records are kept.”

  Valeria gave St. John a small smile. “Thank you, my lord.”

  He managed to smile back, and said their little private pun. “Very welcome, Veri.”

  Trueman said, “Miss Segrave, the earl’s study is not aired. With your permission, first I’ll open it up and have a fire built so that you will be more comfortable.”

  “Very well. Right now I think we’d all like some tea.”

  Valeria rose from her chair and went to stare out the window. Naturally Alastair couldn’t remain seated while a lady was standing, so he stood up. St. John looked quizzically at him, and Alastair winked and motioned for him to stand. Comprehension, and amusement, came over his face, and he jumped up.

  Valeria turned around and regarded them with surprise. “Where are you going?”

  St. John said, “Gentlemen don’t sit while a lady is standing.”

  Valeria looked disconcerted. “Oh, yes. Of course. Please, Lord Hylton, do keep to your chair, it’s really quite all right. St. John, sit down, silly.” She started pacing.

  St. John sat back down, but Alastair said, “Miss Segrave, it’s impossible for me to lounge in a chair while a lady is standing up. It’s simply not done.”

  “But I must think,” she argued.

  “Can you not think while sitting down?”

  “Of course I can think while sitting down,” she retorted, and with great precision sat on the edge of a chair, then gestured sarcastically toward Alastair’s chair. “Don’t ladies ever stand up in your presence, my lord?”

  “Of course, in company, ladies rise and walk about the room as they wish. But when a gentleman is engaged in conversation with one lady, and she suddenly hops up and starts prowling around the room like a caged tiger, then the gentleman must stand too.”

  “I did not hop, and I was not prowling,” Valeria retorted. She saw the amusement on St. John’s face, and her temper subsided. “Well, perhaps I was prowling, but I most certainly did not hop, and don’t you dare tell Craigie, St. John.”

  “I won’t,” he promised. “But I must tell Niall, for you were funny, Veri.”

  Trueman returned and said, “Tea will be up in a few minutes, Miss Segrave, and the study will be warmed soon.”

  Valeria nodded. “Thank you, Trueman. Now, here is what must be done. Send one of the maids to the village, to Mrs. Barnard’s shop, and instruct her to make at least forty black armbands. We’ll also need a quantity of black ribbon for trim.

  “I intend to send Joan and Royce to London. Joan will go to our dressmaker and order mourning clothes for me and my mother. Royce will take the messages to the persons we spoke of before. Have them prepare to leave quickly, as soon as I get the information and write the letters.”

  “Miss Segrave, again, if I may advise you,” Alastair said quietly, “it is a strict protocol that His Majesty, or in this case the prince regent, be advised immediately when a peer of the realm dies. A letter of notice should be sent to his chamberlain at St. James’s.”

  “I was unaware,” Valeria said thoughtfully. “I assume there is a certain form to be followed in this notice?”

  “Yes, there is. If you wish, as a kinsman of the earl, it would be perfectly proper for me to write it.”

  “Thank you, Lord Hylton, that would be of immense help.” Valeria again addressed Trueman. “I hope that Joan and Royce may leave in an hour. They will need money. Where are the household funds?”

  Trueman’s mouth tightened. “I beg your pardon, miss, do you mean to just hand cash over to two lower servants?”

  Valeria tried to keep the irritation out of her tone, but she wasn’t quite successful. “That is exactly what I mean to do, and I think that the reasons for it are perfectly obvious. I must insist that you stop questioning every order that I give, Trueman.”

  “Yes, miss,” he said stiffly, his mouth curling slightly. “The safe-box with the household moneys is also in his lordship’s study.”

  Valeria continued, “Then I shall need access to it. That will be all for now.”

  Trueman went out into the hall but immediately returned and announced, “Mr. Chalmers, Miss Segrave.”

  The tutor came into the drawing room and bowed deeply. Valeria received him graciously and performed the necessary introductions. St. John said, “I’m sorry you lost your holiday, Mr
. Chalmers.”

  “I was thinking of that, my lord, and I suggest that we might continue my holiday together. And with Niall, of course. Perhaps we might visit the stables, and have a riding lesson?” he said kindly.

  Hesitantly St. John asked, “Could we, Veri? Would it be all right, do you think?”

  “I think that is a very good idea, and yes, St. John, it is all right,” she said, smiling. “Thank you, Mr. Chalmers.”

  “Yes, yes, of course, Miss Segrave, anything I can do for—to help,” he stammered.

  “Your presence here is a very welcome help, Mr. Chalmers,” she said warmly. “Especially now I’m glad, not only for St. John, but for my mother and myself too.”

  He blushed so furiously that his entire thin face turned scarlet. He seemed unable to speak, but fortunately for him St. John, oblivious, came to his rescue. “May we go now, Mr. Chalmers? Tea’s coming, I don’t suppose you would have to wait and have tea, would you?”

  “No, I don’t suppose so,” he answered in a calmer fashion. “Miss Segrave, my lord,” he said, and he and St. John took their leave. While they were walking out St. John reached up and took his hand.

  * * *

  Alastair noted how flustered Chalmers became when he spoke to Valeria, a telltale sign that wasn’t evident when he addressed St. John or himself. Curiously he watched Valeria to observe if she, as so many beautiful young women would, deliberately tried to charm the smitten young man. To his surprise he thought that she hadn’t the slightest notion of her effect on Chalmers. Her manner of address to the tutor seemed no different from her normal mode of conversing. This seeming lack of vanity on Valeria’s part intrigued Alastair.

  In fact, all of this long extraordinary day Alastair found himself surprised, bemused, and perplexed by Valeria Segrave. He had never met a woman quite like her. In his experience he had found fashionable young ladies frivolous and shallow, thinking only of dresses and balls and catching a husband. He had never seen a young woman so forceful, so confident, so capable of managing such a complex, disordered, even sordid affair as Lord Maledon’s death was.

 

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