“I understand your father did not send a lady’s maid with you, ma’am,” Mrs. Finchley said as they made their way through the halls. “We have arranged for my niece, Tess, to fill that role for you, at least on a temporary basis.”
Grace’s jaw dropped. She never had a lady’s maid before, and had not even had a governess or a nursemaid in many years. Why, she had expected to be treated more as a servant herself than as someone to be served. If, that is, she were allowed to stay at all.
“Tess has not served in such a capacity before,” Mrs. Finchley rushed on, as though Grace’s shock were that they had already designated who would fill the role, “but she is a fast learner. If she is not adequate for your needs, you just let me know and I’ll arrange to find someone more suitable for you immediately. Will this do?” The housekeeper came to a stop before a sweetly decorated bedchamber, complete with a silver mirror and brush set laid out on the vanity. The walls were a creamy white, with rich rose and sage green accents. Hand-stitched quilts in the same vibrant colors blanketed the bed, along with more pillows than she could imagine how she would ever use.
A young woman with honey-brown hair and a shy smile stood in the corner. She minced out of the way as a footman carried in Grace’s small trunk and placed it beneath the window.
Grace took a tentative look around her new bedchamber and breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes, this will more than suit. Thank you.” Grace might actually be able to rest in a room like this. Any form of relaxation, these days, had become a precious commodity.
“Of course ma’am. I shall leave you and Tess to it, then.” The housekeeper started to back out of the room but stilled at the doorway. “Shall I come by when tea is ready, to show you to the parlor?”
Tea in the parlor? Her aunt and uncle wished her to enjoy tea with them. Maybe she would not be immediately turned out, after all. “That would be lovely.”
“I assume you would like to be shown the rest of the cottage as well,” the housekeeper said with a wink. “I’ll be glad to give you a tour anytime you desire. Just have Tess inform me when you need anything.”
Mrs. Finchley started to leave again, but Grace’s call stopped her. “Oh, and Mrs. Finchley? Might I ask for a bath to be drawn?”
After three days of travel, the only thing more appealing to Grace than food was a bath. A rather startling discovery, that. The inn where she had stayed the previous night had not provided her with a bath (well, to be fair, she didn’t have enough money left in her reticule to pay for a bath), and she couldn’t imagine it would be too great an imposition on the staff—at least she hoped it wouldn’t.
The housekeeper looked scandalized at Grace’s hesitation. “It has already been ordered, ma’am. The maids will bring it in shortly.”
Grace turned to Tess as Mrs. Finchley took her leave of them. The girl was shy, but efficient. She had already begun to unpack Grace’s clothes.
Tess glanced up at her with a blush coloring her cheeks. “Shall I place your clothes in the bureau, my lady?” Before waiting for an answer, the girl started to do just that.
“Yes. Thank you,” Grace replied. “Will you also set out a clean gown for after my bath? The lilac cotton would be perfect.” She pulled the pins from her hair and shook away the tension. With a sigh, she sat on the edge of the bed and assisted her lady’s maid with sorting through her possessions.
The girl’s blush only deepened. “Ma’am, do you not wish for me to do this for you?”
Oh, dear. Grace had always done such tasks on her own. Having a servant assist her would require an adjustment period for both women, it seemed. “Of course, you may help me. I have never had a lady’s maid.”
Tess’s eyes widened.
“We shall learn our new roles together. Does that sound all right?”
“Yes ma’am. That sounds perfect.” Tess visibly relaxed, and the two worked together until the job was complete. By that time, a few other maids had pulled in a tub and filled it with steaming water.
Grace sank into it with a sigh. She allowed the heat to soothe the tension from her body, at least for the moment. She could always worry later. Nothing, after all, had changed.
And yet everything had changed, altogether.
~ * ~
“Come with me, Alex. I plan to have a look about the property while it’s still early, and I desire your company.”
Lord Rotheby looked much better after a spot of tea and a bit of rest, so Alex was not as worried as he had been upon first seeing him that afternoon. Likely the older man had come down with a chill or some other brief illness. He’d be all right. Alex was certain. Nothing could keep the man down for long.
The groom prepared a couple of Gil’s horses for their use. Sampson had earned a rest after the journey from London to Somerton, so Alex rose one of the earl’s geldings for the day. They set out at a leisurely pace, taking in the glory of nature around them.
Alex marveled at the familiar landscape around the manor house. The Hardwicke family had spent the majority of their time in their father’s principal seat, Somerton Court, while Alex and his siblings grew up. But their parents had moved the entire family to Hardwicke House in London eight years before so the siblings could participate in the marriage mart. Even with all the years Alex had spent in Town, he had always held an affinity for the country. The quiet spoke to him, soothed him, gave him something to think and dream about other than cards and balls and women.
Rotheby used to invite the erstwhile duke and his family to Roundstone Park for regular visits—he had looked at the late duke as the son he wished his had been—and it was not uncommon for the Hardwicke brothers to wrestle their way through the gardens or to leap, fully clothed, into the creek that wound through the property.
Gil seemed happy to have Alex with him again, today. His face came alive and his eyes were alert when he spoke. He took Alex through the entirety of the Roundstone property. “That oak over there? I seem to recall a day when you thought yourself man enough to jump from it into the creek just like Peter and Richard. You were a scrapper. But once you got on the branch, the height was more than you bargained for.”
“Ah yes, was that the time you climbed up after me, to rescue me from the impending and everlasting shame of not completing the jump?” Alex chuckled at the memory.
“The very one. I took you by the hand and leapt. You fell down with me, but at least your brothers left you alone after that.”
“For the day, but no more.”
“Ah, well. At least for the day.” Gil coughed again. “More importantly, you proved to yourself you could do it.”
A far more important task, in the grand scheme of life. Jumping from the tree was only one of many things Alex proved to himself he could do, with the earl’s prodding and assistance. No wonder their bond continued to this day.
They rode a little further in silence. Up ahead, a fence with two mangled posts loomed. “Goodness, why have you never fixed those, Gil? They were ruined years ago.”
The older man strained his eyes in the direction Alex was pointing. “Oh yes. Well. They are still in the same shape as your mother left them. I haven’t touched them so she’ll remember every time she sees them.”
Alex choked on his surprise. “My mother?” How could Mama be involved in something like that?
“Don’t forget, you’re the one who earlier pointed out her scheming. Don’t you recall how those fence posts were undone? Surely you do.”
He searched his memory, but nothing came to mind.
“You and your brothers wanted to race through the fields, chasing my dogs. Your sister, Sophia, thought she ought to be included. But she was a girl, and you boys felt she was too young and too female. So you left without her.”
“I apologize, but I’m having difficulty making any connection to Mama with all of this.”
“Slow down a minute. I’ll get there. You are so impatient.” Rotheby huffed out a sigh. “Some things never change.”
Alex
chuckled and bit his lip so he wouldn’t rush the old man again.
“So Sophie ran to your mother and cried that you boys were leaving her out. She wanted to play with the older children, not be stuck at home with the baby—yet another boy, of course. Poor Sophie never stood a chance against you scoundrels-in-training, all cock-sure that girls had no place playing with boys. But I digress. Your mother thought she was right, Sophie should be allowed to chase after the three of you. The woman found a spade out in the garden shed—my garden shed, and my spade—and gave it to Sophia. Your sister went out and dug under those two posts to loosen them. Once she had them free, she pulled them to the side so she could climb through them and chase you.”
“Mama did not. She would never encourage any of us to destroy your property.” At least, he could not imagine it if she had.
“Is that so?” Gil frowned over at him. “Sophie ran after you boys, and your mother tried to fix my fence. All she managed to do was break loose more of the wood, though. When your father and I came upon her, she had Neil strapped to her back in some sort of sling she had created, my spade in her hand, and dirt everywhere—most especially all over her and that poor infant. I can promise you, it was a sight I shall never forget.”
Alex laughed. “I doubt I’ll ever forget it either, now that you have painted it so clearly in my mind. Mama is trouble, there’s no doubt about that.”
“No, no doubt at all. She’s quite the minx, irrespective of her age.”
Gil took time during their ride to point out various features of the estate and discuss their care. He told Alex which of his gardeners cared for which aspects of the park, how often he visited his tenants, the best time of year to travel into Bath to order supplies, and which merchants were honorable to deal with and which were just out to rake one over the coals.
Alex’s suspicions about the earl’s health were roused again by these details about the running of Roundstone. Why was he telling Alex? Why hadn’t he summoned Quinton, his grandson and heir, to inform of such matters? But perhaps now wasn’t the best time to press his friend on these matters. For now, he just wanted to enjoy their time together.
Near the end of their evening ride, Gil’s eyes were bloodshot and droopy, and he slumped forward in his saddle instead of riding proud and erect as he had been previously.
“Should we head in for the evening?” Alex asked. “We can resume our jaunt through your grounds in the morning.” The cold plaguing his friend must be getting the better of him tonight.
“What? Are you accusing me of being old? Rascal. You’ve always been a rascal.” The glint in the earl’s eyes showed some signs of revival, the weariness still won out. “Yes, fine. We’ll call it a night.”
Such a concession mustn’t be easy for Gil. The earl had always been able to keep up with every man in any situation. He held it as a point of pride. Blast, he might be in worse condition than Alex had initially feared.
But Alex tried to force the fears aside. It could solve nothing. Nevertheless, it grasped him like a spider holding its prey.
They turned toward Roundstone Park with the last dregs of sunlight warming their backs. “What do you have planned for the rest of our visit?” Alex asked. “I’ll be here with you for at least a few weeks. Would you like to go for a hunt?”
Maybe he could discover a bit more about the purpose of the Rotheby’s request, even if he had to sort out the clues himself. The longer he was with Gil, the longer he was away from Priscilla and Harry—and unable to do anything for them but hope Derek looked in on them as often as possible.
“Oh, just a bit of this and that. I have some friends who live in Somerton, over at New Hill Cottage. The Kensingtons. I invited them over for tea tomorrow. I always enjoy spending time with them, but I don’t want to put you out. I’m sure spending time with a bunch of older folks will quickly bore you.”
“Oh no. I could only be, er, enlightened by—”
“Do not lie to me. I know you.” The earl’s eyes narrowed, as though he could see through Alex’s head and into his very thoughts, but he chuckled. “I’m certain there will be some entertainments around town to keep you busy. We’ll ask the Kensingtons tomorrow. They keep up with those things better than I do these days.”
Alex wanted to say he would be better entertained by spending his time with Gil—because perhaps he would—but he heeded Rotheby’s advice and kept quiet. Lying to the man would serve no purpose, and his friend deserved better. “All right,” he conceded, “we’ll see what they have to say. I promise to try not to become too terribly bored while talking with three decrepit invalids.” He chuckled at Gil’s glare as they dismounted. “I’ll at least endeavor to hide my boredom, and not snore should I fall asleep.”
The headed back inside Roundstone Park, side-by-side. It had been a good day. But the day left the nagging question of Gil’s health working in his mind.
Chapter Four
Mrs. Finchley led Grace down the stairwell and turned into a broad hall. Off to the right, a large doorway opened into a spacious drawing room decorated in soft primrose with accents of a deep green. The late afternoon sun poured in through a wall consisting almost entirely of thatched windows, with the patterns creating a latticework shadow across the room. Handmade quilts and embroidered pillows draped the furnishings, the same as in the rest of the house. A fire burned quietly in the hearth, snaps and pops of sparking wood only occasionally disrupting the general silence.
“Sir Laurence and Lady Kensington, your niece, Lady Grace Abernathy.” Mrs. Finchley executed a curtsy left the room upon a wave from her employer.
Grace tried not to let her nerves show as she perused her relatives—relatives she had not seen since she was a very young girl, and whom she remembered little, if any. Relatives who might set her out, should she not come up to scratch. As if she knew what they would consider up to scratch anyway. This was all terribly daunting.
Sir Laurence had obviously been quite handsome in his day and still maintained much of his youthful glow. He had filled out a touch about the middle, but his face held an easy smile and warm brown eyes to match the brown hair mixed with grey.
Lady Kensington could still pass as one of the most beautiful ladies of the ton. Her fair skin and black hair matched Grace’s, though hers had begun to turn silver just at the temples. She stood with an elegance that spoke to her position, though her attire was certainly more comfortable than fashionable. Still, there could be no doubt this was a woman born to privilege.
Grace paused, unsure what she ought to do next. Her circumstances to this point had proven far from what she expected. Should she curtsy to her aunt and uncle? Walk across the room and take their hands? Hug them? Burst forth with her thanks at their allowing her to stay, even if only for one night? Her mind raced.
They didn’t even know why she was there to begin with, so she should likely start with the reason for her visit. But how? Oh, goodness. She truly ought to have thought this all through a bit more before she just up and left her father’s house. But she could not have stayed there any longer. Not one more moment.
She would simply have to become more decisive. Starting immediately.
All of her planning proved pointless, however. Grace’s aunt remained seated and silent for several moments. But then she stood and virtually flew across the room to pull Grace into a tight embrace, complete with tears and sniffles.
“Oh, Gracie! Sweetheart. We are so, so glad you are here. Your Uncle Laurence and I have missed you terribly. Oh goodness, you were only a little girl the last time we saw you.”
Lady Kensington finally released her and unabashedly wiped away the wetness she left behind on Grace’s cheeks. The older woman grabbed her by the hand and pulled her across the room to sit on a sofa. Grace had no choice but to follow, dignity be damned.
“I’ve no idea what circumstances have changed so you can be here for a visit with us, but we are thrilled. Thrilled! Lud, Laurence, she looks just like Margaret.”
“Margaret had those same eyes,” Lady Kensington continued softly. “I always envied your mother her eyes, dear. Mine are just a horrid, dull brown. It was truly unfair for one sister to have the most perfect shade of eyes in the world, and the other to receive eyes so dull. Oh well, I promise to enjoy yours.” Lady Kensington patted her on the cheek and brushed at her hair until a few wisps came loose from their knot. “So beautiful…”
The effusive welcome threatened to turn farcical. If Grace’s aunt did not allow her a moment to regain her bearings, she could surely not be held accountable for her actions. Could she? Oh dear. The entire situation was becoming inexplicably ludicrous.
“Dorothea, would you give Gracie a moment to breathe? I wager you have not taken a breath yourself in a good five minutes.” Sir Laurence took a seat on the other side of Grace and pulled her in for a brief hug.
“She is not always like this, you know Grace. It is just she has been so excited since we got your letter informing us of your visit. Your Aunt Dorothea will become a normal woman after a day or two, once the newness of having you here wears off. Then she will merely talk your ear off during most hours of the day, all the while making you dizzy with moving about nonstop. You will become accustomed to it. I certainly have. Of course, I’ve had a good number of years to learn to love your aunt’s quirks.” He chuckled and touched her gently on the back of her hand.
Mrs. Finchley entered again, carrying the tea service. She placed it on the table before them and left once again, just as unobtrusively as she had come.
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