Calamity Claresta

by Irene Estep

  "Excuse me, miss." The housekeeper stood in the doorway of the library twisting her hands together.

  "Yes," Claresta said and put down the paper in her hand. "What is it this time?" The woman-of-all-works seemed to have no knowledge of handling a full staff of servants. The LeClairs had arrived and were working at a much faster pace than Mrs. Williams was accustomed.

  "Sorry to disturb you, miss." The housekeeper bobbed a nervous curtsy. "But the gels, they done polished all the silver and spruced up the dining room pretty as you please. I declare, I ain’t never seen this place looking so fine."

  Claresta sighed. "That’s wonderful, Mrs. Williams. You’re all doing a fine job. Is there anything else you wished?"

  "Well, miss, I just wondered if you wouldn’ like them to spruce up the library a bit next."

  "Since I’m occupying the library at the moment, Mrs. Williams, why don’t you ‘spruce up’ another room?"

  The woman twisted her hands some more, but did not budge.

  "The front parlor, Mrs. Williams, has it been tended to yet?"

  "No, miss."

  "Well, then, I suggest you start in there. Work your way around all the other rooms on this floor, and then send them upstairs to dust and air the bedrooms."

  "Yes, miss." More hand twisting. "Will you be wanting the library done, too, before they do the upstairs, miss."

  Claresta was tempted to lean over and bang her head against the desk. "Check with me again when the other chores are completed."

  "Yes, miss." She bobbed and backed up several times before turning to leave.

  Did all servants need such specific guidance? She wished Nan were here to handle the household. She did not realize she had voiced her wishes aloud until a deep masculine voice said, "Not getting homesick already, are you?"

  Drake stepped into the library, and she opened the desk drawer and slid the settlement papers inside.

  "Not in the least. Just wishful of my housekeeper’s guidance in directing the new servants."

  Drake frowned. "Shouldn’t Mrs. Williams be taking care of that?"

  "Of course, the dear woman does her best, but she’s been used to running things in a perfunctory manner, and the LeClair twins are quite efficient in their duties. I’m sure once Mrs. Williams gets used--"

  "That may well be, Claresta, but it is not your obligation to act in her stead. I shall have a talk with Lady Norwood. If we’re paying Mrs. Williams a fair wage, then she should be expected to carry out her duties efficiently."

  Claresta realized that the dowager had not mentioned that the new servants were being compensated with Huntington funds. She did not think it prudent to inform Drake of that circumstance now and wondered if he would dismiss the entire staff if he knew. Maybe turn out his guests, too.

  "Really, sir, it is not a bother in the least," she falsely stated, for she did not want to get the amiable housekeeper in trouble with her new master. "I pray you do not mention it to the dowager. The lady is not fit today, having had a distressing night of it."

  "Her rheumatism, I suppose."

  Claresta nodded, and she noted a deep shadow of concern in the gentleman’s countenance. Then he said, "Of course, I would not think of disturbing her. But I’ll speak to Mrs. Williams nonetheless."

  "As you wish, sir."

  He smiled. The room seemed to have taken on a brighter glow, and Claresta searched to see if the servants had been in while she wasn’t looking and taken down the heavy drapes for cleaning. She was somewhat surprised to find them still in place.

  "I apologize for being such a terrible host these last few days. I hope you will allow me to make it up to you. If you do not mind visiting a couple of tenants beforehand, I’d like to take you on that picnic you mentioned the other evening."

  Claresta almost cheered with delighted. Now she would have her chance to speak with Drake alone. She contained her exuberance and said, "I will go up and change. Shall we meet in the hallway?"

  "Splendid. Your cousin is just now come down to the breakfast room, so we shall leave shortly."

  Drat. She’d hoped they could be away before Reggie stirred from his bed.

  * * *

  Later, Elrod, the youngest LeClair, brought Cantankerous out to the side yard saddled and ready for Lord Westhaven to ride.

  Reggie was surprised, but pleased that the mare did not look the least haggardly for her age. At least, he wouldn’t have to fear Cantankerous would expire before returning to the stables that afternoon.

  He was further disabused of his mount’s feeble state when Puggy came charging out of the stables. Seeing Lord Westhaven, she began a merry dance around Cantankerous’ hooves, circling and jumping up as if trying to get at his lordship’s highly polished Hessians.

  As a result of the disturbance, Cantankerous took off at a fast gallop. Reggie shouted for a halt as he jerked sharply back on the mare’s reins. Instead of slowing Cantankerous down, the commands seemed to inspire her to greater speed.

  Claresta watched in dismay. Reggie disappeared around a curve in the drive, holding tightly to Cantankerous’ mane and shouting to he top of his voice, "Halt, I say."

  Claresta’s dismay lasted only a moment, and the ridiculousness of the scene overcame her. She burst out laughing. Reggie had such a tight grip on the horse’s mane she doubted he would be unseated, but she wasn’t completely lacking in concern. She laughingly said, "I hope he doesn’t get lost."

  "Don’t worry," Drake said, himself chuckling. "I imagine we’ll catch up to him at the end of the drive. Cantankerous has to be coaxed to go further than the threshold of the gateway. She’s a dulcet bit."

  "Dulcet bit? I remember Mr. Rutherford mentioning it. What does it mean?"

  "Just that she doesn’t take to loud commands and a tight rein. She does best with gentle handling, and there are certain words she responds to."

  "A code? Excellent. Will you tell me?"

  As they drove out Drake explained. "Well, not a code exactly. Shouting irritates the animal. Sometimes Cantankerous reacts simply by refusing to budge, and other times she races away. But do not worry, usually her hasty flights are no more than for a short distance. In any event, her first obstinate stance takes place at the front gate. She must be coaxed to leave the safe refuge her master has provided her at Norwood estate."

  "Poor thing, she must remember her ill treatment at the hands of the vendor."

  Drake did not agree or disagree. But as he had predicted, they found Reggie tugging futilely at Cantankerous’ reins, trying to get her to venture onto the roadway.

  "Having trouble, Reggie?" Claresta asked.

  "Blasted fool. Stubborn as a mule, she is."

  "Come along, dumpling," Drake said and made a clicking noise with his tongue as they exited onto the roadway.

  Reggie gasped in amazement when Cantankerous pranced along behind the carriage as if she were marching in a parade.

  "That’s the way to go, you stubborn bone-setter," Reggie said, but his words were not terribly harsh sounding, so the animal continued at an agreeable pace.

  After they reached the first crossing, Reggie decided to pick up the pace a little. He slapped Cantankerous with the reins and prodded her with his boot heels. The horse’s ears came up sharply, and she danced sideways. He grasped her mane again and yelled as she cut across the near field as if a swarm of bees were on her tail.

  Claresta laughed. "You’re certain she will stop at a short distance?"

  "I believe so. At the very least there is a stream in her path, and I’ve found she is as timid of crossing water as she is leaving the estate."

  After Reggie and his mount made several wayward jaunts, Claresta decided she didn’t know who looked more worn out, Reggie or Cantankerous.

  Taking pity on the poor mount she tried to explain to her cousin how best to manage the animal. However, Reggie ignored her advice and caused further opposition from the poor beast throughout the rest of the day. Having Cantankerous somewhat under control
for the time being, Reggie bounced along on the loping bay beside Norwood’s curricle.

  Claresta wished there was some way to get Drake alone, but with her cousin along on their outing, she knew it wasn’t likely to happen this day. Even the errant rides elicited by Reggie’s ignorance of handling his mount took her cousin out of sight for only a few minutes at a time.

  He had seemed so bored during their visits to the tenants earlier that she’d almost felt sorry for him. Reggie was used to a more frivolous set of companions and could offer nothing to the conversation about livestock and barley yield.

  He knew little about farming. Little about anything, as it went, except gaming, and Claresta felt a pang of pity for her cousin because of that. His father died at a time a boy needs a man’s guidance. But in comparison, Drake’s father had died, so he’d told her, when he was but a young man, and he had learned on his own.

  In fact he seemed to have a wide range of knowledge. And as the day went along, she discovered more and more about him. He talked to the tenants about crops, animal husbandry, and repairs as if he were used to being in charge of overseeing such tasks. And he discussed literature and theology with her as if he were well versed on the subject, although he professed to having had little formal education. He read a lot, he said, which must account for his keen mind.

  She also learned he’d lived with his grandfather and worked in a shipping office when he was but a lad. Then after his father remarried he returned to live at Oakcrest where his stepmother took over his education. That too suffered neglect when his father died and left him with the responsibility of running things until his younger brother came of age. This was the part that confused Claresta.

  "But you were the oldest, why did you not inherit?"

  Drake shrugged.

  How impertinent she was for asking, she thought, when his eyes took on a wounded look. His father had done him a terrible injustice, yet he’d not taken revenge upon his family. Why could Reggie not be as generous, when he’d had no injustice done him a’tall?

  Perhaps, the difference was that her cousin always had relatives to take care of him, whereas, she perceived Drake the caretaker of his relations. At least, that was her impression from his description of his sister and stepmother. He said he’d promised them a home in England, and now that he saw the extent of the chore, maybe he’d be receptive to Claresta’s offer to provide it for them.

  "There is a lot of restoration work to be done on Norwood land."

  "Yes, there is," Drake answered with a rueful smile. She was perhaps the most enchanting female he’d ever known. She’d insisted Mrs. Childers, heavy with child, should sit at the kitchen table with the men while she prepared their tea. When Mrs. Gray, the wife of the tenant they’d just left, offered Miss Huntington a jar of calves jelly to take along on their picnic, the young lady had accepted the offering as if it were a real delicacy. She hadn’t even taken offense when Mr. Gray, a barrel-bellied loud speaking man, told her to take two, if she liked them so well, then added that they were quite fattening, and she looked like she could use a little more meat on her bones. Miss Huntington had laughed graciously and complained that her thinness had not been due to any lack of appetite.

  "It will take a good deal of money, will it not?"

  "What?" Drake said feeling a bit disoriented for a moment when she smiled at him. He was thinking Mr. Gray was quite wrong about her figure. She was a perfect specimen of womanhood. His hands could probably easily span her waist, it was true, but her hips had a nice rounded shape, and her breasts looked ample enough to overfill a man’s palms. Said appendages itched to find out.

  "To refurbish Norwood Manor and make the land productive." He did not seem at all bothered, Claresta thought, by the enormous outlay needed to put things on the Norwood lands to rights. "Have you considered how you shall manage the financing?"

  "Some."

  "Perhaps you could borrow from the Bank of London."

  "I suppose I could give it a try, but I doubt they would have much interest in an already failing estate."

  Hopeful once again, she said, "There are other ways for a gentleman to acquire financing for such a venture."

  "I am sure there are."

  Undaunted by his lack of interest, she continued, "Have you ever considered a marriage of convenience to a woman of substance? Such arrangements are made quite often in England, you know."

  "In America, too. Not long ago, a neighbor to Oakcrest made me just such an proposition to hitch up with his daughter, Miss Chastity Richardson. He promised all the land adjoining Oakcrest would become mine, should I take him up on his offer. Then, of course, since he had no male heirs, the rest of his holdings, quite substantial, I must say, would pass to any children the marriage produced."

  "Oh." This revelation bothered her very much. Could he be thinking of taking this neighbor up on his generous offer to marry this Chastity female? Did the lady’s Christian name imply something of her character? Claresta could just imagine anyone named Chastity would be a timid, virtuous woman, full of devotion, faithful and trustworthy. Was this retiring type of female what a man wanted for a wife?

  Claresta was virginal in body, and she thought none could be more faithful and devoted than she. But, she had to admit, she wasn’t as retiring as a gentleman might hope. She did not want to think on the other virtue, trustworthiness. There must be many other foundations on which to build a relationship. None of which she could bring to mind at the moment.

  "But surely, sir, nothing the man could offer would measure up to the vast possibilities of the Norwood estates. Did not Mr. Rutherford say if all went well with your planning, the field production could triple by next year’s harvest? I know things look a little overwhelming at the moment, what with the drainage problems and enclosures, but you cannot think to just give up."

  She was babbling, she knew, but somehow she felt rather desperate to convince Drake how much he needed her. And the only way to do that was for him to become as impassioned about his English properties as he was about his prospects in America. "Sir, you cannot just give up." When she realized she’d only repeated herself, she added, "Why, think of the tenants. Think of the dowager. They need you." I need you.

  The realization that she needed him more than he needed her stunned her for a moment. A titled, handsome gentleman could have his pick of any number of wealthy heiresses of the ton. How would she ever convince him that he should "hitch up" with a woman with a tainted reputation? One without the proper connections to promote his sister’s debut into society? Her only hope was to keep him from finding out those things until after the wedding.

  Trustworthiness. She felt a little guilty for deceiving him, but she would compensate him very generously for the trifling deception.

  Pointing to a cluster of oak trees on a grass-covered knoll, Drake said, "That looks like the place Mrs. Gray mentioned for our picnic."

  "It does look inviting," Claresta agreed. The land rose in a slight incline above a small lake. A stand of shade trees held a picturesque view at the top of the rise. No doubt, the opposite view toward the lake was just as lovely.

  Reggie groaned when all came to a stop. "We could be back at Norwood in a trice. Why can’t we wait and have a meal sitting in chairs when we get there?"

  "Because, it would be such a waste to go inside when one can spend it in such a lovely place as this," Claresta chided.

  Drake was pleased that Claresta liked the outdoors so well. He had been having daydreams about her in different settings on his estate. He had much to do, refurbishing the house and lands, finding his sister a suitable husband, before he could think more clearly about settling down, raising a family. He’d been teasing her about Chastity Richardson, for he no longer found being married to that particular lady appealing.

  He stepped down from the carriage and could feel Claresta’s soft amber eyes follow him around the horses to her side of the curricle. He wasn’t surprised that he’d already decided to make Englan
d his home instead of returning to America. Claresta had influenced his decision more than the fertile beauty of his estate. Although, that too was a remarkable enticement.

  Momentarily forgetting about propriety, he placed his hands upon Miss Huntington’s slender waist and was delighted to find his calculations were accurate. His hands spanned her waist with ease. He swung her down from the curricle. Her enticing lavender scent made his nostrils flare, and his body reacted with an unexpected jolt. Drake had never experienced such a profound reaction to a woman’s nearness before.

  As soon as he had the means, he made up his mind to court the lady properly. Then he would present her with a proposal to make her his wife. He hated the months of waiting he must endure, but he did not want to scare her off. "English ladies are sticklers about doing things in an orderly, proper, and traditional manner," Druscilla had once told him.

  He stepped away from Claresta, when Westhaven came up beside them and made another complaint. "Probably ants about."

  "Oh, Reggie, quit being such a Friday-face," Claresta scolded. She strolled up the incline toward the spot they’d picked out.

  "You are welcome to return to the house, Westhaven, and take your meal there," Drake offered before following the lady.

  Westhaven sniffed. "I cannot leave Claresta without a chaperone. ‘Twould be unseemly."

  "Suit yourself," Drake said, thinking it unwise to tell the protective cousin that he wished him to the devil. He would give a gold sovereign to enjoy a few moments alone with Claresta. Had he known at the time that Westhaven were a purse-leech, he might have made the offer.

  The surly gentleman turned and walked off to inspect a narrow boat he spotted moored to a small dock. Drake followed Claresta with the picnic basket. He gleaned a good deal of pleasure from watching the gentle sway of her hips as she walked up the rise and enjoyed the glimpse of her well-turned ankles as she lifted her skirts to step over a fallen limb. His breathing became a bit laboured for such a short walk, and he wondered if it were the aftereffects of his recent illness. Although, just yesterday he’d taken several turns around the gardens at Haverton with Lady Emmeline Chelsworth and not been the least winded by it.