Never having been served a formal meal in a home’s dining room, Alice realized she was in for a treat. A servant would be waiting on her. Alonyius pulled out a chair for her and then moved to the opposite side of the table. Meanwhile, his brother seated their mother at one end before he took the carver at the other end. Within minutes, the meal was served by several footmen and a maid, and Alice simply ate and listened as the members of the Banks family seemed to carry on several topics of conversation at once. When a question was directed her way, she answered quickly, but didn’t ask anything in return. Fascinated by how the brothers interacted, she didn’t want her presence to change their entertaining banter. Their discussions ranged from sheep to mechanical devices to fibers to laborers and all about the struggles of importing wool.
By the time the dessert was served, Alonyius and his brother were talking about the mill and the happenings in town, all while their mother beamed with happiness.
“I take it this does not happen very often,” Alice said in a quiet voice meant only for Mrs. Banks’ hearing.
“Only once a year, my dear, but they pick up right where they last left off. Why, they might actually finish everything they need to say to one another if Alonyius spends the night.”
Was there a chance the valet wouldn’t spend the night at Mill House? Alice supposed a carriage might take them back to The Black Swan if Alonyius insisted, but she had come to believe that wouldn’t happen until the morning.
No matter where they spent the night, she hoped they might have a moment alone before they had to leave Mill House.
She had so many questions!
Chapter 22
A Countess Encounters a Chambermaid
Later that afternoon
Had she had any idea Edith Harrington Pendleton, Countess of Pendleton, would have been her husband’s second choice for a wife and countess, Adele would never have married Milton Torrington.
At least, that’s what she was telling herself as she finished another chapter in the awful book she was reading.
The Treasure of a Pirate.
Where was Lord Sommers when you needed a piffle of a book? she wondered, nearly tossing the leather-bound volume against the wall. That someone had thought this particular dreck worthy of a binding was a testament to their lack of taste. Their lack of understanding of what true love was truly about. Their lack of...
Experience.
She sighed and glanced at the Rococo clock on the fireplace mantle. Had she really just read an entire novel in two hours?
What would she do for the rest of the day?
She glanced out the room’s only window, heartened to see the sun still shining despite the clouds that had probably shrouded the area for weeks.
Perhaps she would venture out of doors for a quick walk around the house. Maybe pay a visit to the stables. The horses could probably use some company. Have they even been exercised this week? she wondered.
Making her way to her bedchamber, she was glad the trunk that had been loaded onto their traveling coach had been the one containing her carriage gowns. Rummaging through it, she found one made of wool and shook it out. Almost tempted to pull it on over the one she already wore, she instead wriggled her way out of her gown and changed into the wool one. About the time she realized she needed help with the buttons, there was a knock at the door.
She stilled herself. Had Milton seen her come in? Or...
The door suddenly opened, and a chambermaid appeared. The girl gave a start. “Oh, I apologize, my lady,” she squeaked, just about to pull the door closed.
“Don’t go,” Adele replied. “I am in need of assistance with the buttons. Can you help?”
The chambermaid gave a curtsy and moved to do up the buttons. “Yes, my lady.”
Adele realized she might get some answers about Torrington Park from the girl. “How long have you worked here,” she asked, her tone rather conversational.
“Just five years, my lady. This is my favorite time of the year to work here, though, seeing as how it’s almost Christmas.”
“Oh?” the countess replied. “Pray tell, what’s so different?”
The girl finished up the buttons. “Why, the hanging of the greens, of course. In just two days. It will be so much better with you here. It’s always been just the earl and his valet, you see, and the men aren’t as good about seeing to making the day festive. Oh, they’ll bring in the greens and maybe help hang them up, but they don’t bother with the ribbons or the fripperies. You will be there, I hope,” she added, her enthusiasm suddenly waning.
Turning around to regard the servant, Adele gave a nod. “Of course, I will,” she replied, rather interested to hear that it was only Milton and his valet. The butler had suggested others might be joining them. Others being...?
“Tell me, do you know if there are any others expected to arrive for the holiday?” She must seem like a very poor hostess if she didn’t even know who had been invited to share in their Christmas.
Giving her head a shake, the chambermaid replied. “Sometimes the earl’s cousin comes with the scotch, but seeing how the weather’s been so bad, I rather doubt he’ll make the trip.”
Adele frowned. “Tell me, what is it we need to decorate this place?” she asked of the maid.
The girl gave a slight shrug. “The pine cuttings, of course. Some wire to make the wreaths. Ribbons for the big bows, and ribbon for the bows for the tree—“
“Is there some ribbon here we can use?” Adele interrupted. She wondered if a trip to Hexham would be required.
“There’s red velvet fabric in the storage room, and Cook saw to some red ribbon when she was last in town. She managed to get some marchpane, too, seeing as how she wanted to make a special luncheon to serve everyone whilst we do the decorating. She makes the most beautiful fruits with it, all dipped in sugar and...” He eyes suddenly widened. “Exceptin’ that was supposed to be a surprise, my lady. Do you suppose you might forget I mentioned it?” she asked in a pleading voice.
Adele blinked, realizing the girl referred to marzipan. The thought that a cook in such a remote area of England would know how to fashion the festive fruits from almond paste was welcome news. “Of course. All forgotten,” she assured the maid. “Now, from where does the tree come?”
The chambermaid blinked. “I don’t know, my lady. The footmen usually see to that.”
“And the wire?”
Shaking her head, the girl finally said, “The stables, maybe? Mr. Haversham saw to it last year, seein’ as how he was sweet on Watson, and she told him he had to help make wreaths. He did, of course, seein’ as how he wanted to keep Watson happy since he and Watson like to...” She stopped talking, her face suddenly taking on a reddish cast.
Adele was forced to suppress a grin when she realized exactly what the girl was about to say. “Then I do hope Mr. Haversham arrives in the next day or so,” she replied. “He’s driving the servants’ coach, which has apparently been stuck in Darlington.”
Nodding, the chambermaid seemed ever so relieved. “I’m so glad to hear it. Seein’ as how Watson gets a bit cranky when she goes too long without a tum—” The girl suddenly stopped talking again, her eyes rolling up in embarrassment.
Knowing exactly what the chambermaid was about to say, Adele was suddenly reminded of her lady’s maid. Simpkins hadn’t made mention of having a lover in a long time. She hadn’t asked permission to spend the night elsewhere—at least, not since Adele had wed.
Is that why she’s been so disagreeable? Adele wondered.
Before she could give it another thought, the chambermaid curtsied again. “Mrs. Miller will be wondering as to my whereabouts, seeing as how I was just supposed to collect the chamber pot, my lady.”
Adele gave the girl a nod. “Thank you for letting me know about the hanging of the greens. We’ll see if we can’t make the great hall the grandest it’s ever been,” she said. Grabbing a winter coat, she headed out of the bedchamber and made her way down t
he stairs.
Somewhere outside, there were trees that were going to have to be trimmed. And some wire, perhaps in the stables, to make those trimmings into magnificent wreaths.
Pulling on her coat without the help of the butler, she helped herself to her muff and made her way outside.
Chapter 23
An Encounter in the Stables
A few minutes later at Torrington Park
The soft neighs of Friesians as well as the odor of manure greeted Milton as he made his way into the stables of Torrington Park. Necessary for the planting and harvesting of the crops grown in the nearby fields, the large beasts were rarely out of the stables when winter covered the rolling hills of Northumberland. He had spent the past half-hour regarding the terrain around the hunting lodge, wondering if the harvest would be better than this past year’s. Northumberland hadn’t faired as poorly as some lands to the south, but he knew the people here wouldn’t survive another year if the cold continued.
A snort and a bit of stomping had him stopping at the stable of the largest horse.
“Good to see you, too,” he said, pulling open the huge wooden door imprisoning the beast. The hinges made a sound of protest as he did so, a reminder of the cold. Having grabbed a brush from the wall of tools just inside the entrance to the stables, Milton gave the huge horse a pat on his withers and began brushing him. The quiet, even strokes allowed him the time to think, although he would have preferred the numbness found at the bottom of a bottle of scotch just then and had half a thought to simply return to the lodge and lock himself in the study.
There were too many weapons on the wall in there, though. If Adele found him, she might use one of the lances to impale him.
Probably after she used the mace to throttle him.
He gave an involuntary shudder at what else she might do with the weapons of war that could be found in the ancient study.
“Haven’t seen you in a year,” he murmured quietly. His comment was answered with a short snort, a puff of white rising from the Friesian’s nostrils. “A good deal has happened since then. I married the love of my life,” he murmured as he gave the Friesian a long stroke across his back. “I cannot tell you how different life is with a wife.”
The horse suddenly lifted his head, as if he agreed with the earl.
“Best decision I ever made,” Milton said as he continued to brush the beast. “I could have married any one of a dozen women, but I didn’t,” he continued, as if the horse could understand his every word. “I waited until I had the opportunity to marry the one woman I knew was perfect for me.”
A whinny had him pausing in his ministrations. The Friesian had side-stepped a bit in the stall and turned his head, as if he found it necessary to regard the earl with both eyes.
“Don’t argue with me,” Milton ordered with a shake of his head. “I knew I would marry her back when she was still in the schoolroom,” he stated in no uncertain terms. “She was my best friend’s sister. Always knew I would marry her.”
The horse bobbed his head again, stepping so he faced the earl before he gave his head a shake.
Milton frowned. “I am not lying,” he insisted, his hands going to his hips. “I even told her brother I would marry her,” he insisted. “How was I to know some upstart would ask for her hand? That she would agree to marry him?” he continued, as if the horse could understand every word he was saying.
Perhaps he could.
His head was shaking as if in disgust.
“Well, I know that now,” Milton replied, continuing with the even brushing of the beast’s thick hide. “So then I had to wait until the the cur finally died.”
The horse let out a rather loud whinny.
“I did not kill him,” the earl insisted. “I rather wish I had. And I did not know about Weston until it was almost too late,” he added, almost as an afterthought. As long as he was admitting his feelings for his countess to the beast, he figured he had better make it clear he was completely unaware there were others interested in the woman.
Money did that, though. Inherited fortunes were magnets for men who needed blunt. Who had debts.
Weston had been one of those men.
“Thank the gods Lady Ellsworth eavesdrops on her husband’s conversations,” he stated with a sigh. “Told my love that Weston was after her fortune to pay his gambling debts.” He paused in his story as he continued brushing the horse. “Which meant I could finally make my move.”
Turning its head sideways, the horse actually seemed to be listening to his words.
“Och, so now you believe me, you dumb beasty,” he accused, his voice bitter. Milton continued brushing the horse, his breathing suddenly uneven as he considered how his stupid words of earlier that morning may have marked the end of his marriage. “I love her, dammit. Have since before I went off to university. And then I go and make some stupid comment about that damned Edith Harrington—the trollop!—and now I wonder if I will ever see my love again,” he bellowed in despair.
The Friesian snorted and neighed in response, a hoof digging into the straw at its feet so when it lifted the leg, the straw sailed backward and sent a waft of dust sailing through the stall. The other horses, similarly disturbed, began voicing their protests and stomping their hooves.
Milton stared at the Friesian, wondering what had the beast so upset. Surely it didn’t understand his situation.
Did it?
A movement behind him had him turning to find Adele regarding him with tear-filled eyes.
“Adele? What’s wrong?” he asked in alarm as he dropped the brush and moved to take her into his arms.
She seemed to melt against him, a sob causing her entire body to shake as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Nothing,” she whispered with a slight shake of her head. “Nothing at all.”
The earl continued to hold his wife, just then wondering how long she had been standing there in the stables.
Had she overheard his entire conversation with the Friesian? She must think I’m a candidate for Bedlam!
“I love you,” he said quietly, his lips next to her ear. “I always have.” I was such a damned fool.
“I know,” she whimpered, her arms tightening their hold on him. “I know that now.”
Neighing loudly, the Friesian stomped and bobbed his head.
“Day after tomorrow. Christmas Eve. A sleigh ride. I promise,” Milton said to the horse before turning his attention back to his wife. “You will join me, I hope?”
Adele nodded. “I will,” she said in a whisper. “But before that, we have to see to cutting some pine boughs. From the trees around the lodge.”
The earl regarded her for a moment. “Have you been speaking with Mrs. Miller?” he wondered in a whisper.
She shook her head. “A chambermaid, actually. I’ve just learned all about your hanging of the greens.”
Pulling her hard against his body, Milton held her for several moments. “We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” he whispered.
“Of course we do,” she countered. “I want to. Anything to make that great hall a bit more festive for Christmas Day. Make those trophy heads a bit less noticeable.”
Grinning, Milton allowed a nod. “If you’d like, I can see to their complete removal,” he offered. He hadn’t been responsible for any of them, and didn’t much care whether they were left hanging or were hidden in the cellars.
Adele shook her head. “No need,” she replied with a watery grin. “We’ll simply work them into the decor.”
The earl nodded. He stilled himself a moment and furrowed his brows. “I wouldn’t have married her,” he stated suddenly.
Allowing a sigh, Adele rested her head against his shoulder, a sob interrupting another sigh. “I know. Just as I wouldn’t have married Weston,” she countered.
Milton gave a nod, just then realizing how raw he still felt at learning about her lovers. Especially her former brother-in-law. “I’m still a bit annoyed about Stephen W
orthington,” he claimed, his voice quite at odds with his words.
Stiffening in his arms, Adele pulled away and regarded him for a moment. “You needn’t be. I never would have married him, either.”
Milton was about to say something about the man, but decided against it. Better that he accept the way things had worked out rather than regret that he hadn’t married her all those years ago. Back when he had a chance to be her one and only husband.
Besides, they had the rest of their lives to make up for lost time.
Chapter 24
A Moment Alone, a Night Together
Several hours after dinner
Pulling on a borrowed night rail and marveling at the quality of the fabric, Alice allowed a sigh. What an odd day! What a delightful hostess! What a beautiful home!
After luncheon, the men had disappeared into the study, presumably to discuss the family business. Meanwhile, Mrs. Banks had taken her on a tour of the home, obviously proud of the manor house her husband had built with the profits from his textile mill. Although she didn’t talk much about her late husband, Mrs. Banks seemed ever so curious about her son’s life at Worthington House.
And then she had asked the question for which she seemed the most interested in learning the answer.
When did the lightning strike?
By then, Alice understood what the woman was asking. She was sure Alonyius wouldn’t have said anything about having bedded her, but it was apparent his mother assumed they were lovers.
As for a lightning strike, Alice couldn’t decide if there had been a moment that had her realizing she had feelings for the valet. It was more like a slow... sizzle, she had finally answered, remembering the sound of bacon as it cooked in the kitchen and how that sound grew louder the longer it was in the pan. She was well aware of how her face must have colored up just then. We have known each other for seven months, and yet we never gave each other a second glance. Until this trip, I believed he was completely ambivalent about me. Or that he disliked me because I have displayed such a sour countenance these past few months.
The Christmas of a Countess (The Holidays of the Aristocracy Book 1) Page 17