by Judith Lown
The memory of Katherine’s disastrous London season came flooding back. Then, she had been in the company of Leticia’s older sister, Rosaline. Although it had been the first season for both young ladies, Rosaline had not suffered from the awkward shyness that had plagued Katherine—nor the unruly ginger hair and the unfortunate tendency to blush at a gentleman’s slightest notice. Aunt Brampton’s only concern about Katherine’s difficulties was the possibility that the Brampton cousins might be too closely identified with each other, to Rosaline’s detriment.
Declaring Katherine’s coloring to clash with any of the pastels worn by young ladies in their first season, Aunt Brampton had insisted on an all-white wardrobe for Katherine—which only succeeded in making her pale skin look sickly and her hair gaudy. Beside such an antidote, Rosaline shone—and captured the first son and heir of a viscount.
“Your offer is truly kind and generous, Cousin Leticia, but it is impossible for me to accept. I cannot leave Aunt Prunella and Miguel. And, it would be a waste to invest in a London wardrobe. I would not need such elegance here in Drayford Vale.”
“I knew it would be difficult to convince you, Cousin Katherine, but you must reconsider. I see no reason why Miss Summersville and that little boy cannot go on quite well without you. They have Miss Summersville’s maid and that young maid of yours. She’s energetic if not discrete. And since the riding officers have rounded up the gang of smugglers, there can be no danger from them. Nothing much happens in the country.
“And you really must put off those depressing black gowns. It is far beyond the accepted time of mourning for a brother. You are not getting any younger, and you have now thrown away more than a year going about looking like…I do hate to say this, Cousin Katherine, but you are indistinguishable from a particularly unfashionable governess.”
Katherine blushed, remembering a specific occasion on which she had been mistaken for an upper servant. Leticia interpreted the blush as acknowledgment of the strength of her argument.
“I realize that many colors present a problem for you, given your…unusual…coloring. But subdued shades of green or blue would not clash too dreadfully with your hair.”
Katherine felt helpless to marshal a response to her cousin’s importuning. Leticia’s offer was beyond ordinary generosity. How could Katherine say that under no circumstances would she accompany Leticia to London without seeming ungrateful?
“I am certain that your assessment of my wardrobe has merit, Cousin Leticia.”
Leticia smiled and nodded.
“And, if I moved in more stylish circles, I would, no doubt, follow your advice. But you must understand, it would be a complete waste for me to go to London with you.”
Leticia pursed her lips, but remained silent.
“I know you think it is foolish of me, but, I could never cease worrying over Aunt Prunella and Miguel if I were separated from them. And consider: what sort of entertainments would I feel comfortable attending? I know no one in London, and meeting strangers easily is a skill I have never mastered.”
Leticia shook her head.
“Sir Clive has mentioned your stubbornness and your refusal to act in your own best interests, but I never really understood what he meant until just now. Let me put things as plainly as possible, Cousin Katherine. You are getting no younger. You are hidden away here with no real opportunity to make a match, which, if you are determined to raise that strange child, you will need to do.
“I know that my brother has renewed his offer of marriage to you and you are leaving him dangling. Of course, your foolishness in that matter is beyond my comprehension. But, it seems obvious that if you exposed yourself to the larger world, you would have greater appreciation for what Sir Clive has to offer—or, if you are determined to refuse him, you might put yourself in the way of other eligible gentlemen.”
“I am certain that there is great wisdom in what you say, Cousin Leticia. Nevertheless…”
Leticia rose and straightened her back.
“If you were wise, Cousin Katherine, you would take advantage of Sir Clive’s offer. He actually refuses to remain in London after escorting Mama and me. And I know that is because he does not wish to be very far from you. His patience with you is inexplicable. I really do not understand the hold you seem to have over him, but I advise you to act on it. I am not at all sure he is capable of denying you anything.”
Leticia stormed out of the parlor before Katherine could find words to bid her good day.
The front door slammed and the scrunch of carriage wheel on gravel sounded from the driveway.
“You really won’t go to London, will you, Miss Brampton?”
Startled, Katherine looked up to see Miss Lizzie Dracott standing in the parlor doorway.
Katherine could scarcely catch her breath from the shock of the little girl’s sudden appearance.
“It is very wrong to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations, Lizzie.”
The child made her way into the parlor and settled herself in the chair just vacated by Leticia Brampton. She was bonnet less. Her sash hung untied, and the skirt of her dress had pulled away from the bodice just above a soiled spot over her knee. She placed a bedraggled bouquet of daffodils on the table beside the chair and selected a biscuit left behind by Katherine’s departed guest.
“I am sorry, Miss Brampton, but I couldn’t help it, really and truly. When I got here, Miguel was in the back garden riding a pretend horse, and I thought it would be fun for us to have a race, so I came into the house to find a broom and I heard you speaking in here and I knew I should not interrupt grown-ups’ conversations, so I waited for that angry lady to leave.”
“Hiding behind the parlor door?”
Katherine struggled to keep censure in her voice.
Lizzie nodded while chewing a bite of biscuit.
“That’s how the daffodils got ruined. They got smashed against the wall. I’m sorry, Miss Brampton. I wanted to give them to you.”
“Thank you, Lizzie, dear. That was very thoughtful of you. But perhaps what happened to them will make you think before you consider eavesdropping again.”
“You won’t go to London, will you Miss Brampton?”
“No, Lizzie. I assume you heard me tell Miss Leticia Brampton, I have no intention of going to London.”
Miguel, his broom-horse abandoned, accompanied by Princess, came into the parlor and sat on Katherine’s lap. Lizzie moved to the floor beside the tea table and selected another biscuit, sharing it generously with Princess.
“I think that lady was mean to you, Miss Brampton. I think your gowns are just fine.”
“Thank you, Lizzie.”
Katherine bit her cheeks to keep from laughing. There you have it, Leticia, she thought. You might quarrel with my sense of fashion, but Miss Lizzie Dracott finds my gowns to be “just fine.”
“Are you going to marry Sir Clive?”
Katherine froze. Just how much had Lizzie heard?
“That is an impertinent question, Miss Elizabeth Dracott.”
Katherine had no difficulty making her voice stern.
“You must promise me never again to eavesdrop on grown-ups’ conversations!”
“But what if I cannot help it, Miss Brampton? What if I promise never again to listen to grown-ups’ conversations, then I need to hear something really, truly important? So if I promise,
I might do two bad things: break my promise to you and listen to grown-ups talking.”
Katherine was lost for an answer. It was satisfying to know that Lord Henry Dracott would be struggling with Lizzie’s finely honed reasoning for years to come.
“I know Princess is really happy here,” Lizzie said while stroking the spaniel, who was waiting patiently for another bite of biscuit. “I wish I could have given her to Papa after Trinket died, but I understand it would not have been kind, taking Princess away from her home. That’s what Papa says. But I think Papa misses Trinket. I don’t think he’s very happy these da
ys. Where do you think Trinket is, Miss Brampton? Did she go to heaven like my mama and my baby brother and my grandpapa and grandmamma?”
Katherine’s heart contracted at the thought of the losses Lizzie had suffered in her young life. She thought she knew the accepted answer to Lizzie’s question, but she could not bring herself to give it.
“You must ask the vicar, Mr. Wharton,” she suggested. “He is the authority on such matters.”
Katherine hoped that fate would be kind and permit her to overhear that conversation.
“ I know she has a grave. I heard Papa tell Cook that he had buried her in their favorite place.”
Lizzie had the good grace to look a bit chagrined at confessing to another instance of eavesdropping on a grown-up conversation.
“Have you never visited Trinket’s grave?”
Lizzie shook her head.
“I wanted to, but I didn’t want to bother Papa. Make him sadder.”
“Would you like to see it?”
“Oh yes, Miss Brampton. More than anything!”
*****
It took some effort walking with Lizzie, Miguel, and Princess from the Dower House to the place just above the fishing hole on Dray Stream where Trinket was buried. Katherine, remembering her promise, brought a packet of forget-me-not seeds that she had saved from last year’s garden. Lizzie was ecstatic over the prospect of planting them on Trinket’s grave. Princess, as was her want, raced ahead, barking and chasing any small animal that had the misfortune of being near the lane. Lizzie and Miguel paused from time to time to examine a particularly interesting stone or discover if a wildflower had any fragrance.
When they arrived at the clearing beside the stream where Trinket was buried, they discovered that small weeds had taken root on her grave. Katherine pulled on the old gloves she used for such tasks, and before long both Lizzie and Miguel were gently pulling the weeds and smoothing the earth over Trinket’s grave.
Then came planting the forget-me-not seeds. Again, both children worked intensely, patting the seeds into the damp soil.
“Will we have to do this every year, Miss Brampton?”
“No, Lizzie. That’s the beauty of forget-me-nots. They self-seed. So year after year, when we visit Trinket in the spring, forget-me-nots will be blooming here.”
“Is there another sort of flower we can plant that will bloom after the forget-me-nots?”
Before Katherine could answer Lizzie, they heard pathetic whimpering coming from beneath a nearby shrub. As all three of the little party gazed in horror, Princess dragged herself from beneath the shrub, scarcely able to move because she was covered in sharp burrs.
“What is the matter with Princess, Miss Brampton?”
Lizzie’s eyes filled with tears and Katherine realized she had never before seen the girl cry. Miguel’s lower lip trembled.
“It looks as if she found a pile of burrs left over from last autumn. They must have been blown under that shrub, protected from the weather. Poor Princess! I will just have to pull them out. It is going to be a long task, so I want you to stay close and away from the stream.”
Katherine need not have worried about Lizzie and Miguel wandering off. Both children’s attention was riveted on the spaniel. They stood silently observing as Katherine began the painstaking task of removing burrs from the dog’s long, silky coat.
Initially, Katherine kept her gloves on in an attempt to protect her own fingers. But she quickly learned that gloves prevented her from holding the small burrs tightly enough to pull them out. Resigned, she removed the gloves. She could grasp the burrs barehanded, but they were almost as likely to lodge in her fingers as they were in the spaniel’s coat. Katherine’s fingers began to bleed and Princess continued to yip and squirm in pain.
“Whatever is going on here?”
“Papa!” cried Lizzie.
Lord Henry Dracott.
“Princess is all covered in stickers and Miss Brampton is trying to get them out, but it is really hard,” Lizzie explained.
Lord Dracott sat opposite Katherine on the other side of Princess.
He lifted Katherine’s right hand in a calloused grip.
“This is no task for a lady, Miss Brampton, but I’ll need your assistance. I see you have been clearing the neck area. That’s a good start. Try to hold the dog about the neck, loosely, and I shall work down the body. We’ll clean up the face and muzzle last. That’s the most sensitive part.”
Lord Dracott proceeded efficiently, removing burrs from Princess’s silky coat, sometimes humming tunelessly under his breath, sometimes admonishing the suffering dog to quiet down.
His large hands were remarkably gentle, pulling at burrs and stroking the frightened Princess when she reacted in pain.
“We are making excellent progress here, Miss Brampton.”
He added another burr to a growing pile beside him.
“What brought you here?”
“I wanted to see Trinket’s grave, Papa, and Miss Brampton had some forget-me-not seeds we planted on it.”
“That was extraordinarily kind of you, Miss Brampton.”
“I had promised, Lord Dracott.”
He looked up from his task and gave Katherine a half smile.
Princess squirmed and brought Katherine’s attention back to her assignment of holding the spaniel still.
“Now, Miss Brampton, I believe we are ready for her underside.”
Lord Dracott gently turned Princess on her back, and Katherine gripped the dog’s sides, just above her back legs.
“Perfect, Miss Brampton. Now hold firmly. I fear Princess will not like this.”
Lizzie and Miguel hovered closely, intently observing the painstaking procedure.
“And now her head. Better hold firmly, Miss Brampton. This is the most sensitive part.”
Katherine held Princess as tightly as she could. The spaniel whimpered as each burr was pulled from around her eyes and mouth. Finally, the last burr was removed. Lord Dracott quickly ran his hands once more over the silky coat, checking for any burrs he might have missed. Katherine released her hold on Princess, remembering the effect that Lord Dracott’s touch could have on her.
He patted the spaniel’s head.
“You may be a dizzy creature, but you’ve got grit.”
Princess rewarded him with a lick on the nose. Lizzie laughed. Katherine and Lord Dracott joined in.
He tucked Princess under his arm and offered Katherine a hand up.
“Here you are, Miss Brampton. I give Princess into your care. Perhaps it would be best if you carried her back to the Dower House. I suspect if there are any more burrs left over from autumn in the vicinity, she will find them.
“I believe you are right, Lord Dracott. And, thank you for rescuing her—rescuing all of us.”
Katherine smiled up into his golden-flecked brown eyes and knew she loved him. Whatever was she to do?
Chapter Fifteen
If Harry’s thoughts had not wandered to a pair of smiling green eyes whenever there was a pause in the conversation, he would have been completely at peace with the world. Whether Paris would surrender without a battle was uncertain. But according to all reports, allied armies surrounded the city and Napoleon’s fate was sealed. It would be a shame if one more life were sacrificed to Boney’s ambitions, but the last life in jeopardy that Harry cared about personally was alive and beyond the reach of the Corsican’s armies. Captain Charles Hamilton had returned from France, and was even now enjoying Harry’s best brandy—-laid down before the embargo—and a cheroot. Charlie, Gus, and Harry were ensconced in Harry’s library, having partaken of Cook’s best efforts, having visited the stables to assess Dracott cattle, and once more having found Gus to be unbeatable in billiards or cards.
Their conversation had been of times long past: times of school pranks and holiday mischief; times before marriage, soldiering, and death—death in childbirth and battle. Strangely, Charlie’s appearance could almost convince Harry that the c
arefree days of youth had never passed. In spite of almost five years of combat in the harshest conditions, Charlie remained unscarred physically and, apparently, mentally.
But now the store of youthful exploits was exhausted and the three friends smoked and sipped in silence until Gus asked the obvious question.
“Are you back permanently? Going to help the squire with the running of Dray Meadows?”
“Not just yet. Colonel Bridgerton requested that I escort his wife to London, and visit Tattersall’s for a new mount for him. Seems that the colonel and his lady are planning to make an impression in Paris, and Mrs. Bridgerton felt the need to refurbish her wardrobe. Then the colonel got to thinking that his most recent army-purchased replacement for the most recent horse shot from beneath him—I swear he holds the record—would not do for his grand entrance into the French capital. So I deposited Mrs. Bridgerton with her daughter and son-in-law in London, purchased a handsome chestnut gelding for the colonel, and had it sent to the son-in-law’s stables.
“I’ll have to go back to London for the civilian wardrobe I ordered. I plan to sell out. I’ve no stomach for fighting the American colonists, no matter how much they need to be taught a lesson.
“Sometime I need to go up to Bath to check in on Janie. Can’t for the life of me figure what is going on with her. Aunt Sophie writes that Janie is about to make a brilliant match and Janie writes that Bath is duller than Sussex. Hints at coming home. Suppose I should suss the situation myself.”
Charlie tossed the stub of his cheroot in the fireplace and lit another with a spill.
“Actually, though, I would not mind staying home. Saw a handsome widow on my way through the village.”
Harry and Gus exchanged puzzled looks.
“Did you sustain a head injury you have neglected to mention, Hamilton, or have you developed a taste for older ladies? I admit that Mrs. Sythe-Burton is well preserved, but…”