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

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The Christmas of a Countess (The Holidays of the Aristocracy Book 1) Page 20

by Linda Rae Sande


  “The servants’ coach just arrived,” he announced. From the tone of his voice, Adele couldn’t decide if he was pleased by the news or not. Although they had managed with dressing one another—indeed, she had delighted in it, if for no other reason than her husband had to learn how to do the opposite of what he usually did—Adele lacked suitable clothing and went about with her long hair undressed. She had a feeling she looked much like the maiden in the book she was reading, if not a bit older.

  Adele set aside the book and gave him a grin. “I’ll finally have some appropriate attire,” she replied as she stood up and moved to join him.

  He gave her a kiss on the corner of her mouth and took one of her hands in his. “The weather has turned rather fine. If you’re up for it, we can have a couple of footmen join us to trim those trees you mentioned and gather some greenery. Cut down a tree. Prepare this place for Christmas.”

  Stunned by his suggestion, Adele seemed lost in thought for a moment before she gave him a brilliant smile. “Why, that sounds like a perfect way to spend the afternoon. I’ll even have appropriate clothing once the trunks are delivered to my bedchamber.

  “And I’ll finally have a place to put all those boxes,” he said with a hint of mischief.

  Adele frowned. “Where are they now?”

  Milton straightened and shook his head. “I’m not telling. No peeking allowed until Christmas morning.”

  Rolling her eyes, Adele was about to assure him she had no intention of touching the packages when the butler appeared behind her husband.

  “Yes, Trasker?”

  “Your trunks are being delivered to the mistress suite, and your lady’s maid and the valet have been shown to their quarters.” He paused a moment. “Shall I have Simpkins meet you in the mistress suite, my lady?”

  Adele allowed a sigh. Her reprieve from her lady’s maid was over, she realized. “Before you do, can you tell me how you found her countenance?”

  The butler blinked. “Why, Simpkins seemed in very good spirits, my lady. She also voiced concern about the laundry and said she would see to it right away as she didn’t wish you to be inconvenienced any longer.”

  It was Adele’s turn to blink. “Did she?”

  A bit relieved to hear that the lady’s maid was in a good mood, Milton made mental note to corner his valet and congratulate the man on a job well done. Perhaps they could get in a game of billiards whilst Adele dressed for an afternoon of gathering evergreen boughs and choosing a tree.

  “Have Simpkins meet her ladyship in the mistress suite,” Milton ordered. He turned to Adele. “In the meantime, I shall have a word with Banks. Learn what happened on the trip and get an accounting of the expenses and all that before we head out.” He turned to the butler. “Have a couple of footmen ready to help with cutting and gathering the greens. Her ladyship noticed several of the evergreen trees around here could use a good trimming.”

  “Of course, my lord,” Trasker replied. He gave a bow and hurried off as Milton turned to find Adele lost in thought.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  Adele gave him a grin. “Curiosity has me wondering what happened to have my lady’s maid in good spirits,” she murmured.

  Pretending ignorance, Milton gave her a kiss. “I look forward to hearing a report,” he said as he offered his arm. He escorted her up the stairs to her bedchamber and then went to his own, closing the door before heading to the door to the dressing room that connected the two suites. He was about to go into the dressing room, but realized Adele’s maid was busy hanging up gowns and arranging footwear.

  Cupping an ear to the door, he struggled to overhear any of their conversation and finally gave up.

  He would have to learn what he needed to know from Banks.

  Alice gave her mistress a curtsy and a brilliant smile as Adele entered the mistress suite. “Good afternoon, my lady,” she said.

  “And to you,” Adele replied, rather surprised to find most of the trunks already emptied of their contents and a pile of laundry collected into a bed linen. “I know I must look positively medieval with my hair like this ...”

  “It’s rather fetching,” Alice replied with a grin. “But I can do it up for you if you’d like.”

  Noting the laundry, Adele lifted a brow. “I suppose you already know there’s no laundress here at Torrington Park,” she said with a sigh.

  “Mr. Trasker informed me. I was about to see to it, but it can wait if you’d like me to help you change your gown or do your hair,” she offered, her manner still rather pleasant.

  Adele angled her head. “I think just a change of gowns, for now. We’re going out to gather the greens to decorate the great hall tomorrow,” she replied. “I’ll have you do my hair when I change for dinner later.”

  “Yes, milady. Would you like your hunter green riding habit? Or the blue one?”

  Still rather stunned at her maid’s happy demeanor as well as her choice of what to wear when gathering pine boughs, Adele realized there probably wasn’t really an appropriate gown for such an exercise, and if there was, she didn’t have it. “The hunter green, I should think. And while you see to it, perhaps you can tell me what happened these past few days. You’ve probably had an awful ordeal,” she added as she turned to allow Alice to undo the fastenings of her gown.

  Alice couldn’t help the flush of color her face suddenly displayed, and was rather relieved her ladyship was facing away from her. “It wasn’t so awful, milady. Although The George was closed for the season, there were some rooms available at The Black Swan. Mr. Banks saw to the arrangements.”

  “He seems a rather capable man,” Adele replied, stepping out of her gown.

  “Oh, he is, milady.” And rather skilled in areas other than his duties as a valet. She had to suppress the urge to say more—a frisson passed through her body at the very thought of him—even though she desperately wished to talk about it. For the entire trip from Darlington, she had thought to keep their liaison a secret from everyone. Now she was near to bursting with wanting to tell someone.

  As she held out the riding habit, Alice realized her mistress was staring at her, her head held at an angle. “You’re blushing,” the countess accused. “In fact, you look as if you’ve been tumbled three ways to Thursday.” The words were said in a light-hearted manner, and a grin turned into a smile as Adele regarded her with an upraised brow. “Do I have the right of it? Oh, do tell. There’s no one around here with whom to share any gossip,” she urged.

  Alice blinked. And blinked again when she realized there was no hiding it. “Something like that,” she finally admitted.

  Adele stepped into the riding habit and said, “Well?”

  Finally allowing a smile—she could barely contain her happiness—Alice recounted a bit of what had happened during her stay in Darlington. “He washed my hair,” she said suddenly. At the look of stunned surprise on her ladyship’s face, she added, “We had to share a room as there were only two left at the inn.”

  “He didn’t stay with the drivers?”

  Clearing her throat, Alice wondered how much to tell about what she suspected the drivers were busy doing in their room. “I don’t believe there would have been enough... space,” she hedged.

  It was Adele’s turn to blush. “Oh, of course. Mr. Haversham seems to make friends at every stage stop,” she agreed, one of her brows left arched in query.

  “Indeed. He was quite popular in Darlington. At least for a couple of the tavern maids,” Alice admitted sheepishly. “As was Mr. Higgins, although I can’t say as how I ever saw him until a few minutes before we took our leave,” she added, her brows furrowing in wonder. She suddenly burst into a fit of giggles, which had Adele grinning ear to ear.

  “Mr. Banks could pass as a gentleman,” Adele commented, wanting to learn more about her husband’s valet. “Why is that, do you suppose?” Most servants who worked in Mayfair could probably change their speech to make them sound as if they were to the manor born,
but she had always been struck by how Banks carried himself. His coats and breeches were as fine as anything her husband wore, his cravats made of silk and his jewel-toned waistcoats elegant but conservative. She didn’t think she had ever seen him wear livery.

  Rather stunned by the insight, Alice nodded as she finished doing up the buttons on the front of the riding habit. “He is the ‘spare heir’ to a rather prosperous woolen mill, milady. The fabric used in this coat was made there, in fact.”

  Furrowing her brows, Adele stepped back and glanced down at the Merino wool habit. Trimmed in black with jet buttons, it had been her choice for riding during the fashionable hour for the past couple of years. “Then why, pray tell, is he working in service?” she asked in a lowered voice.

  Alice moved the vanity chair so Adele could sit down as she retrieved a pair of black boots. “His mother was Lady Torrington’s lady’s maid,” she stated, not sure how else to answer just then. Although Alonyius had explained the honor of working in service, it wasn’t until that moment that Alice understood his meaning. “She instilled in him the importance of—”

  “Torrington’s mother?” Adele interrupted. She nearly fell onto the vanity chair. “My Torrington’s mother?”

  Nodding, Alice knelt to remove Adele’s slippers and put on the boots. “Just for a few years. Until the man that was to be her husband met her at a draper’s shop...”

  “And insisted she marry him when she told him she needed the whole bolt of wool for Lady Torrington’s winter gown,” Adele finished, her attention directed on something in her mind’s eye.

  “Why, yes.” Alice finished lacing up one of the boots. She dared a glance up at Adele. “How did you know?”

  Shaking her head as if to clear it, Adele allowed a wan smile. “My mother told me that story. I should have liked to meet that maid. Or at least have been there that day in the draper’s shop.”

  “She’s a wonderful woman. Rather batty, really. But ever so humble and—”

  “You know her?”

  Alice nodded. “I met her day ’fore yesterday. I was actually a guest at Mill House last night. I stayed in a beautiful blue bedchamber.” With Alonyius at my side, she was tempted to add. “I even had breakfast with Mrs. Banks this morning, well before dawn. She was a most gracious hostess. A very doting mother—Mr. Banks’ older brother lives there, you see. And she’s training a new maid.” Alice continued to nod as tears filled her eyes.

  Adele leaned over and lifted Alice’s chin in one of her hands. “Why the tears?”

  Swallowing, Alice took a quick breath. “I think I’m in love with Mr. Banks.”

  It was Adele’s turn to blink. “Well, I suppose this means he did more than wash your hair?” she half-asked in a hoarse whisper, amusement evident in her voice.

  “Oh, yes. He has kept me quite warm despite the chill,” she admitted before allowing a watery grin. “He’s a very... attentive lover,” she added as color once again suffused her face.

  “Well,” Adele said as she stood up and shook out her skirts. “For your sake, I hope his mother has instilled in him the importance of honor,” she whispered, the serious comment at odds with her expression. “You could be with child.” Despite the hint of warning, the words sounded almost hopeful.

  Rising to her feet, Alice rolled her eyes. “I rather think I’m too old to consider that possibility,” she said with a grin, gathering up the bed linen with the laundry. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll see to the laundry now.” She gave a curtsy and made her way out of the bedchamber.

  Although Alice’s comment about being too old was said with only her situation in mind, she had no idea how it affected her mistress, for Adele held her slight grin until her lady’s maid was out of the bedchamber.

  When Alice was halfway down the hall, Adele allowed the tears to fall.

  Chapter 28

  A Conversation with a Valet

  Meanwhile, in the billiards room

  As the early afternoon light flooded in through the west window, Milton allowed a sigh. Not yet two o’clock in the afternoon, the coming sunset would be a combination of brilliant oranges and pinks. The colors would hang in the sky even after twilight took over, a few stars winking into existence well before dinner was served.

  The clear sky portended a cold night, and Milton considered how lucky he was to have settled the spat with Adele the day before. They had never fought before, never raised their voices to one another. He felt awful for having left her so angry. So bereft. All because she was jealous of a woman for whom he had no feelings. Probably never had, other than the bit of contempt he had felt the last day he had paid a call on Lady Pendleton.

  Well, it served him right for having carried on with so many women before he could finally marry Adele. Now that she was assured he wouldn’t be seeing any of those other women—most not even in a social sense—she had allowed him to hold her and wipe the tears from her cheeks with his handkerchief. This afternoon, they would see to the pine boughs for the hanging of the greens, and tomorrow, after the great hall was decorated, they would go on a sleigh ride. All would be well at Torrington Park.

  Realizing he wasn’t alone, Milton turned to find his valet regarding him from just inside the open door. “Come in!” he called out, waving a hand to indicate that Alonyius was welcome in the billiards room. “’Bout time you made it. I take it the trunks were too heavy for the servants’ coach?” he added with an arched brow.

  Banks nodded. “Indeed. Poor Haversham only managed to get a few miles from Darlington before we were forced to turn back. The Black Swan provided accommodations and meals, of course, so we have been living in relative comfort for the past couple of days, my lord.”

  Milton eyed his valet a moment, quite sure Banks looked as if he had more color in his skin. A lighter air about him. Why, the man looked... happy. “You got laid,” he accused with a teasing grin. “Who was she? The tavern wench? Or the kitchen maid at The Black Swan?”

  Banks clamped his mouth shut and made sure he displayed an impassive expression. “Neither, my lord.” He didn’t offer more, but realized he should have at least attempted to change the subject when his master’s eyes suddenly widened.

  “Simpkins!” Milton spread his arms wide and grinned in delight. He sobered and angled his head to one side. “I do hope you weren’t too inconvenienced. It was rather sporting of you to do it. When we discussed it before we left, I truly didn’t think you would be able to bed the ol’ biddy.”

  Banks winced at the earl’s words, not sure how to make it clear he wasn’t inconvenienced in the least. Nor was bedding the lady’s maid the awful chore Lord Torrington seemed to think it was. Truth be told, he had developed feelings for Alice Simpkins, but he dared not admit that to the earl just then. Not when the man was behaving as if Banks had fallen on his sword.

  He had in a way, but not in the way the earl thought he had. If Alice continued to allow his attentions, he would be falling on it for the rest of his life.

  “My lord, it wasn’t an inconvenience, I assure you,” he managed finally. “Simpkins is a lonely woman who merely craved the attentions of a man. Not having engaged in... a carnal affaire for some time,” he continued, lowering his voice a bit. “I was happy to do your bidding.” He winced again at how his words must have sounded. Why, his comment was no better than those made by the ladybirds who practiced their profession on the London Bridge or in the brothels in Covent Garden.

  “She’s happy now, though,” Milton replied, his voice filled with hope.

  “I believe so.” Banks blinked and gave his head a shake. “Yes, she is happy.” And I intend to keep her that way, he nearly added.

  “You must be famished,” the earl suddenly stated. “When was the last time you had a decent meal?”

  The valet allowed a sigh of relief at the change of subject. “We ate this morning at my brother’s house,” he said with a nod. “I presume the drivers ate at The Black Swan.” He extracted the purse the earl h
ad given him upon their departure from London. There were still some coins in the velvet pouch. “I don’t know if there’s enough for the trip back to town, but I think we did rather well, my lord.” He held the pouch out to his master.

  Milton shook his head. “Keep it. Consider it compensation for what you had to do,” he said in a jovial manner.

  Feeling as if he’d been punched in the gut, Banks frowned and shook his head. “No, my lord. I don’t require any compensation in that regard.” He paused, finding it difficult to rein in his sudden anger at his master.

  The earl regarded his valet for a moment, remembering just then that Banks had never lacked for funds. Money wasn’t an inducement, probably given he had funds from another source than his meager servants’ pay. “Well, then perhaps you can win some by beating me in a game of billiards,” he suggested, holding out a cue for the valet.

  Alonyius allowed an expression of interest, but shook his head. “I appreciate the invitation, my lord, but I have duties to see to. Perhaps later?” he managed. He didn’t wait for a response but gave a bow. “Excuse me, my lord.” He turned on his heel and took his leave of the billiards room.

  Frowning at his valet’s abrupt departure—he had hoped they could get in a game of billiards before he met Adele to gather some pine boughs—Milton wondered why the man had reacted so. He replayed Banks’ comments in his mind and was left wondering two things.

  Make that three.

  Had Banks actually enjoyed his time with Simpkins?

  Or had the poor man suffered so badly he was considering ending his employment?

  What had happened with respect to his family’s textile business? Was Banks upset because he was expected to resign his position, take his leave of London, and move to Darlington? Or had the valet learned he was no longer in line to inherit the textile mill?

 

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