The Christmas of a Countess (The Holidays of the Aristocracy Book 1)

by Linda Rae Sande

  That necklace would have looked far better around Adele’s neck, he thought.

  Now why didn’t I remember that afternoon when Adele asked me who I might have married instead of her? He never would have proposed to Edith Harrington!

  My, but how time allows one to forget the worst things in life.

  How long would it take Adele to forget?

  The thought of his wife had him glancing around the master bedchamber. He needed to see to a suit of clothing for the day, and he briefly wondered if Adele would help him with his cravat. Then he thought better of asking her when he remembered the threat of the vase.

  She would probably strangle him with the cravat. Tie him up to the bedpost and leave him for the chambermaid to discover.

  Poor chambermaid.

  Hunger pangs—he never had made it to the kitchens in the middle of the night—as well as the chill in the air had him hurrying to dress himself. As for the cravat, he decided to skip it. And the topcoat, as well. Since he wasn’t going anywhere—it wouldn’t be any fun taking a sleigh ride by himself—he gave up on the waistcoat.

  Dressed in only Nankeen breeches, boots, and a shirt made of fine lawn, Milton made his way to the breakfast parlor and prayed Adele wouldn’t be bringing the vase with her.

  Chapter 17

  Preparing to Pay a Call

  Back at The Black Swan

  Her legs feeling a bit like jelly and her body still abuzz from what she and Alonyius had been doing last night and early this morning, Alice sighed as he worked to do up the buttons on her gown. “How long will you be, do you suppose?” she asked. He had just put voice to a plan to take a walk.

  “I really don’t know. I have a call to pay. A bit of business, you see. So it depends on how or if I am received. After that, I expect I’ll be returning straight here.” He paused a moment, gently turning her around with hands that gripped her shoulders. “You’re welcome to join me, but it is a bit of a trek through town,” he added with a hint of warning. “About a mile.”

  Truth be told, he couldn’t decide if he really wanted her to know the real reason they were staying in Darlington another day. His master had insisted he pay a call on his family, and it seemed as if he had made sure of it by bribing their driver in the event the snow didn’t force them to stay.

  With Haversham and Higgins happily ensconced with their ladybirds, only Alice would be left with nothing to keep her occupied at The Black Swan. And with no idea the weather wasn’t the only reason for their delay.

  “Perhaps you could take a horse,” Alice suggested. “Make the trip go a bit faster.” Although she wanted to join the valet on his trek, she really didn’t have the proper footwear to be walking in deep snow. Especially a mile. Two, considering there would be a return trip.

  Alonyius grinned at her suggestion. “I haven’t ridden a horse since I was at...” He almost said ‘university’, but thought better of it. He rather doubted she would believe he had attended Cambridge, although he had only done so for two years. By then, he knew he would be better suited to a life in service than working in the office at his father’s mill. He sighed. “Well, it’s been quite a number of years. Should I come upon a hackney, I shall take it.”

  This last seemed to appease the lady’s maid, and she gave him a wan smile. She wasn’t quite sure how she should send him off. A kiss, or a hug? A handshake seemed far too impersonal given what they had been doing only an hour ago.

  It was Alonyius who kissed her then, a sweet kiss in that it was brief, but one he followed with a peck on her nose. “I’ve left some coins on the desk so that you might have a luncheon brought up,” he murmured. “Or there is a public house just a few doors down from here. Far better than the one downstairs. Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

  Heartened by his concern, Alice nodded. “I will.” She gave him a quick kiss before he gave her a bow, placed his short top hat on his head, and took his leave of the room.

  He seemed to take all the heat with him as well.

  Glancing about the room, Alice realized she couldn’t spend the entire day waiting for the valet to return. She would go mad with boredom. Regretting not having joined Alonyius, she wondered if she might discover which direction he took and catch up to him. Fresh air would do her some good. If she couldn’t find Alonyius, she would simply enjoy luncheon at the public house he mentioned.

  Hurrying to her valise, she rummaged around in search of another pair of stockings and her only pair of half-boots. Within minutes, she had pulled on her redingote and had a woolen scarf wrapped about head. Helping herself to the collection of coins on the desk as well as the key, she took her leave of the room and descended the stairs to the public room below.

  Haversham greeted her as she passed through the room, a tankard held up in salute. Pausing at his table, she gave a nod to the tavern maid who sat next to the driver. “Good morning, Mr. Haversham. I trust you’re enjoying our unexpected stop,” she said.

  The driver gave a snort. “Can’t say it was all that unexpected,” he replied with a grunt. “Seein’ as how Banks needed to pay a call and all.”

  Alice frowned, straightening at the odd comment. “You knew about the call?” she asked, a bit sheepish with her query.

  “Oh, yeah. It’s partly why we’re stuck here.”

  “Partly?” Alice repeated, noting how the tavern maid seemed to glare at her.

  “Well, we could ha’ left this afternoon, seein’ as how the mail coach just came from the north, but we wouldn’t be gettin’ to Hexham before dark. Better we go in the morning.”

  Alice nodded. “I see.” She didn’t, really, but what else could she say? “And where might Mr. Banks have gone on his call?” she asked, trying not to sound too curious. “I hope he didn’t have to walk too far.”

  Haversham angled his head first to one side and then the other. “Mill House isn’t so far. A mile maybe?”

  “Mill House?”

  “Yeah. The big mansion. Belongs to the bloke who owns the local textile mill.”

  Nodding, Alice gave a quick curtsy. “I do hope he makes it just fine in this weather,” she said before turning to take her leave.

  Mill House? What on earth would the valet be doing paying a call on a mansion in Darlington?

  She inhaled sharply.

  Was he under consideration for a position there? He had mentioned something about being familiar with the area. I grew up near here, he had said last night, his comment whispered whilst he held her after that first time he had made love to her. Perhaps he had asked that they stay so he could interview for a position.

  He hadn’t said a word about leaving London, though. About leaving the earl. He had been the aristocrat’s valet for one-and-twenty years!

  A bit panicked, Alice emerged from the smoked-filled public room of the coaching inn and looked about in both directions. There was no sign of Alonyius, but she marveled at the number of people who hurried about as she inhaled the cold, crisp air. When she spotted an older woman coming out of a butcher’s shop, she hurried up to her. “Pardon me, but could you point me in the direction of Mill House?”

  The woman gave her a quick look up and down, as if she was assessing the value of her clothing. A gnarled finger pointed east. “Only mansion at the end of that lane,” she murmured before she turned as if to go on her way. “But haven’t heard they’re looking for any housemaids,” she warned.

  Alice glanced down at what she wore, wondering what had given away her profession. Her redingote almost covered her carriage gown, but the worn hem of the out-of-date gown was clearly on display.

  “Valet, is what I heard,” the woman said as she turned around again and leaned in a bit. “Seein’ as how the owner’s grown a bit round about the belly. Probably can’t reach his buttons to do them up hisself.” This last had the woman giving a guffaw before she headed off with her purchases.

  Left dumbfounded, Alice stared at the retreating back of the old woman.

  Valet? />
  That could only mean one thing, she realized. Alonyius was applying for a position. Given his record of having been a valet to an earl for so many years, how could he not be hired?

  Then she remembered Haversham’s comment. The owner of Mill House owned a textile mill. He was a man who had apparently grown quite large around the middle. Of course he would hire someone of Mr. Banks’ experience!

  Determined to reach Alonyius before he made his way into the Mill House mansion, she quickened her steps in the direction the old woman had indicated.

  At least fifteen minutes passed as she struggled to keep her feet beneath her in the snow and ice. The dark red brick structure, at least three stories tall and quite wide, was indeed the only house at the end of a long lane flanked by a series of live oaks. A small stone fountain topped with a Greek statue stood in the middle of the circle drive. Thin Italian poplars decorated the front of the Georgian building, and fashionable arched windows flanked the double doors and graced the entire first story of the building. Smaller windows lined up with their first-story counterparts along the second story. The white painted portico above and the carvings on either side of the doors provided little in the way of protection from the elements.

  But what had Alice sighing in disappointment were the boot prints in the snow.

  They led all the way to the front doors.

  Alonyius had already made it into the mansion.

  By way of the front door, it seemed.

  This is odd, Alice thought.

  Glancing to the left and then to the right, Alice looked in vain for a way to get to the back of the house. Given the snow, there didn’t seem to be an obvious path to a servants’ entrance.

  Slowing her steps, Alice wondered what to do. She couldn’t exactly knock on the door. What would she say when the butler answered? I’m here for the man who is interviewing for a position. Oh, and might you have one for me, too?

  On the verge of tears and feeling ever so much the fool, she made her way to a stone bench at the side of the half-circle drive. Pushing the snow off the seat with the tail of her scarf wrapped around one chilled hand, she settled onto the cold stone and decided she would simply wait for Alonyius to complete his interview. It couldn’t take that long, she reasoned as she rewrapped her scarf around her head and face and her arms around the front of her body.

  As for what she might tell the man when he emerged from the house? Well, she would think of something.

  Please don’t accept the position wouldn’t work, but something else might.

  Chapter 18

  A Countess Learns Some History from a Housekeeper

  Back at Torrington House

  Adele took a steadying breath, her sobs finally having turned to a few hiccups now and again. Her mind a jumble—she wanted to apologize to her husband at the same time she wanted to throttle him—she busied herself with dressing in the only carriage gown she could manage without his help. It meant wearing only stays instead of her usual corset, but it wasn’t as if anyone would see her.

  The butler? The housekeeper? A housemaid or a footman? There were so few servants on staff at Torrington Park, she thought she might go an entire day without seeing someone. Or perhaps they were all hiding, afraid to meet the new mistress of Torrington Park.

  A door down the hall slammed shut and a rather loud curse sounded by way of the dressing room door. Adele stilled herself. Milton? she wondered, rather frightened. Why, the word was so loud, she was sure the neighbors had heard it.

  That is, if there were any neighbors.

  She had no idea how far away the nearest people lived in this part of Northumberland.

  The thought had her considering whom she might know.

  Dr. Darius Jones lived somewhere nearby. He was an archaeologist, she remembered. The brother of the Duke of Westhaven, Dr. Jones spent his days studying Hadrian’s Wall and the artifacts left behind by the Roman soldiers who used to occupy this part of England. She briefly wondered if Dr. Jones might be planning a trip to London in the next day or so. Perhaps she could join him in his coach.

  She shook the thought from her head, realizing she didn’t even know the man well enough to request a ride. Besides, given the deep snow that blanketed most of England, she rather doubted the man could even get all the way to London. Then she’d be stuck in a coaching inn for who-knew-how-long waiting for a mail coach or some other means to get back to London.

  Which had her wondering once again as to the fate of her maid and Milton’s valet. She found she missed Simpkins, if only because she wanted the woman’s company. Even a complaining Simpkins would provide better company than having no company.

  About to depart for the breakfast parlor, Adele paused.

  Would Milton be there?

  The very last person she wanted to see at the moment was him. Perhaps if she rang the bell, a maid might come. If she could order breakfast to be brought up, she could eat in the bedchamber.

  She glanced about, not pleased with the prospect of spending the entire day in the mistress suite. She had already read every book she had brought with her, and there were no other diversions available in this room.

  What would she do all day?

  Sighing, she glanced about. What’s the worst that could happen should she take breakfast in the parlor?

  Her husband might make an appearance.

  On his knees and groveling, she hoped.

  He had some explaining to do. Some promises to make.

  Allowing a sigh, she wondered if she would allow him the time to do so.

  Every moment Adele thought she could abide his presence was followed by the thought of Edith Harrington, and she decided she simply couldn’t.

  Not yet. The wounds caused by his words were far too fresh.

  Taking a deep breath, she carefully opened the door and peeked around the door jamb. No one seemed to be about, so she slipped from the bedchamber and made her way toward the main stairs. She almost made it, but the housekeeper appeared from around the corner and gave her a deep curtsy.

  Adele gave the older woman a nod and said, “Good morning,” before continuing on her way.

  “Good morning, my lady,” Mrs. Miller replied with a brilliant smile. “May I be allowed to say how happy we are to have you here for the holiday?” she added, her head tipped to one side.

  Pausing in her descent, Adele turned and gave the woman a wan smile. “How kind of you,” she managed. She had half a mind to ask the woman if Milton had ever entertained any of his widows at the former hunting lodge, but thought better of it.

  Could she abide any more news of her husband’s former lovers?

  But suddenly emboldened, she climbed back up the top two stairs and asked, “Pray tell, what other women has his lordship brought here to Torrington Park in the past?”

  The housekeeper’s brows furrowed as she considered the question. “There haven’t been any other women here, my lady,” she answered with a shake of her head. “Well, exceptin’ for the late countess, God rest her soul, and his lordship’s cousin’s wife, of course. But the Grandbys only visit here a few times a year,” she added quickly. “When he brings the scotch to age in the cellar.”

  Adele blinked. “Not a one?” she queried. She knew about the scotch, of course. Milton practically bragged about how good his cousin was at running the earldom’s distillery somewhere outside of Hexham. Her own brother did the same out of one of the Devonville estates, although it was located just south of the border with Scotland.

  Mrs. Miller shook her head. “Torrington Park was a hunting lodge for many years, my lady. No women allowed, is my understanding. It wasn’t until his lordship inherited that this property was made suitable for living year ’round, and then only because his mother insisted she have a place to sleep when she came up for Christmastime, if you catch my meaning.”

  Considering the older woman’s words, Adele gave her a nod. “Thank you. You’ve been most informative,” she managed before turning to head d
own the stairs. She couldn’t help but think the housekeeper’s words were rehearsed. As if Mrs. Miller had been coached to answer a particular way so as not to raise suspicion among any of the women who were in residence at some point throughout the year.

  “I do hope the earl didn’t catch a chill,” the housekeeper commented as she tucked her chatelaine into a rather large pocket in her day gown.

  Adele paused in her descent and turned her head. “A chill?” she repeated.

  “A few minutes ago. Why, the man had locked himself out of his bedchamber, and he wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing, my lady,” Mrs. Miller remarked, her eyes round. “Had to let him into his bedchamber, I did.”

  A combination of spite and jealousy had Adele regarding the housekeeper with suspicion for a fraction of a second. She finally allowed a grin. “I do hope you weren’t too terribly traumatized by the ordeal.”

  Mrs. Miller blinked before she matched the grin with one of her own. “I’ve been the housekeeper here since back when it was a hunting lodge, milady. ’Taint nothing that can do that to me.”

  It was Adele’s turn to blink. The woman was older, but her comment suggested Torrington Park’s conversion from an enclave for the Grandby men to an estate home had been rather recent. “How long ago was that, pray tell?”

  The housekeeper seemed to consider the question for a moment. “Back in ninety, I think it was. The last countess, God rest her soul, couldn’t abide the late earl’s choice in decor. She had the first floor completely redone to suit her tastes. After that first Christmas she stayed here.”

  Performing a bit of math in her head, Adele realized the redecoration had to have happened just after Milton inherited the earldom. As for the ground floor, given the number of animal heads and antlers mounted on the walls in the great hall, the dowager countess obviously hadn’t touched it. Now Adele wondered if Milton insisted on keeping the hunting lodge aesthetic. She wasn’t about to ask any more of the housekeeper, though. The woman no doubt had a good deal to do given the number of rooms in the place.