The two unlucky footmen, who were standing politely to one side waiting to guide the visitors in, didn’t stand a chance. Half a ton of excited stallion hit them in the back and they were, like Leo the previous day, face down in the gravel. Rufus walked over them, adding to their terror.
Leo calmly took hold of his halter with his free hand and, shoulders shaking with suppressed mirth, led Rufus round to the stable block.
Chapter Fourteen
The manner of Lord and Lady Upminster’s arrival would not have gone unnoticed. Word had been relayed to the duke, ensconced in his palatial apartments in the East Wing and no doubt he was not amused. By the time Rufus had been safely installed in a loose box Eleanor’s nervousness had flown. She was more concerned about removing all signs of the stable yard from her smart, dark gold pelisse and straightening her pretty poke bonnet.
Mary finished her ministrations at last. ‘There, my lady, you look smart as paint. No one would know you had been visiting the stable.’ Mary’s tone suggested Eleanor should have known better. Satisfied all was as it should be, she slipped her hand through Leo’s waiting arm.
‘I am ready now; Gareth and Sophia must be wondering what has become of us.’
He grinned. ‘No doubt they have already been informed of the spectacle we made on our arrival. Now, let us go in.’ He glared in mock severity at his wife. ‘And please, my love, don’t say anything outrageous or laugh immoderately, this is a house where humour is not allowed.’
‘You are an idiot, Leo Upminster,’ she giggled, ‘and far worse than I.’ He escorted her round to the grand front entrance where the butler and housekeeper were keeping watch for them.
‘Good evening, my lord, my lady, welcome home.’ Melville gave a low, reverential bow. The housekeeper curtsied and they were ushered into the cavernous entrance hall. The icy blast that accompanied them reminded Eleanor of Leo’s disparaging comments on the lack of comfort at Rothmere. They were taken upstairs immediately and informed dinner would be served in forty-five minutes.
Her room was huge and gloomy, furnished with old-fashioned, heavy dark wood. An intimidating, brocade hung, four poster bed dominated the far wall. Although there was a large fire burning merrily in the grate, the room was freezing. The window curtains were moving in the draft.
Leo had followed her in. ‘I warned you the rooms are uncomfortable and cold, my dear.’
He pointed to a door in the panelling. ‘I’m through there, the door isn’t locked.’ Eleanor flushed at his reminder of her promise to go to him when she was ready. She swallowed and turned away shyly.
‘I’ll leave you to dress, Ellie. I’ll come for you in forty minutes. Rothmere doesn’t employ a gong; the place is so big no one would hear it.’ He strode to the communicating door and then paused. ‘Wear the rose crepe tonight, Eleanor.’ Having issued his order, he vanished through the door.
She was ready before the stated time and paced the room, hoping the activity would keep her warm. Even with the addition of a cashmere shawl her evening dress was too flimsy for a room as cold as hers; she prayed the reception rooms downstairs would be warmer.
A light tap on the door heralded Leo’s arrival. He stepped through, immaculate in black. ‘You look breath-taking, my love.’ His eyes reflected his frank appreciation. ‘Are you ready? Good, then we will go down. Remember never to venture out of your room alone, you might get lost and starve to death before anyone finds you.’
His joke made her laugh and she was still smiling when they arrived at the main salon. The butler announced them and the gaze of all the occupants focused in their direction. Leo led her forward to meet her relatives. Eleanor curtsied and smiled and offered her hand to so many elegant people that she feared she would never be able to distinguish one cousin, aunt, or uncle from another. The one person she really wanted to meet was conspicuous by his absence. The Duke of Rothmere would not be joining them for dinner as he was indisposed.
Leo turned to Gareth in disgust. ‘He is never indisposed. He has never had a day’s illness in his life; he is without doubt one of the healthiest seventy-year-olds in the land.’
‘The duke is playing his usual games, Leo. Don’t cut up about it. You can go and see him tomorrow; it will be better to become reacquainted in privacy.’
Eleanor agreed with her brother-in-law. ‘I am relieved. I would much prefer to meet his grace, for the first time, in his own apartments.’
Leo relaxed and captured her hand. ‘I hope you’re not expecting to charm him, darling, he has a heart of stone.’
Dinner was announced before she could answer. Gareth headed the line with Sophia, dressed in a stunning gown made from the gold, Indian figured silk she had been given. Eleanor, to her surprise, found she and Leo were halfway down the procession and she commented on this, in a whisper.
‘I’m a lowly second son and don’t hold the title in my own right, Ellie.’ He frowned obviously remembering a past annoyance. ‘Although there’s a title, and property, which I could have had if the duke had wished to give it to me.’
‘You have no need of a title of your own Leo, or another property. We have more than enough.’
‘But any children that we have will be commoners.’
‘I’m a commoner and none the worse for it. I don’t believe any children we might have will suffer either.’ She wished to reassure him she was more than happy with what they had.
Even with thirty seated around the table each was marooned in an individual sea of cutlery and crystal. Eleanor was grateful her place was beside Leo and they were able to converse quietly throughout the meal. He kept her entertained with scurrilous anecdotes about the various members of his family scattered around the room. He drew her attention to a dandy in a violently striped waistcoat and shirt points so high he could hardly turn his head.
‘Avoid that macaroni; he’s a distant cousin of mine, infamous for his behaviour. Scandal follows him like a bad smell.’
‘What is his name? I’ve never met a black sheep. He looks ridiculous; I cannot believe anyone with sense would take him seriously.’
‘Sir Bertram Jenkins. I’m not funning, Ellie, he’s dangerous; avoid him.’
Their conversation ended as Sophia rose regally at the end of the elaborate dinner and led the ladies through to the Grand Salon. Eleanor was delighted when Leo appeared with the other gentlemen shortly afterwards for she had been finding the constant questioning from the ladies of rank quite exhausting. He threaded his way through the love seats and chaise-longue to drop, nonchalantly, beside her, much to the astonishment of an elderly, be-turbaned dowager.
‘Good heavens, girl, who is this man?’ Leo’s great-aunt Agatha had failed to recognise him.
‘I am your great-nephew, Leo Upminster, your grace, and I have come to talk to my wife. I hope you have no objection?’
‘Actually, I have.’ Her tone was garrulous. ‘I would have thought there was enough conversation between you in the bedroom.’ She stood up and nodded at a rapidly reddening Eleanor. ‘I would talk some more with you, young lady. You speak more sense than anyone else I have met here.’ Leo, who had leapt to his feet, bowed again, and watched his great-aunt disappear towards a sea of similar turbans.
‘Thank goodness you came, Leo. It was only a matter of time before I said something to disgrace myself.’
He was sympathetic. ‘Poor love; elderly relatives are a sore trial to the young.’ He grinned at her as he re-joined her on the seat. ‘But console yourself, my dear; one day you will be an elderly interfering relative yourself.’
She stifled her giggles in the corner of her shawl, remembering Leo’s semi-jocular instruction not to laugh out loud. ‘Ellie, what on earth are you doing? You look as though you’re blowing your nose on that.’
‘Sorry,’ she spluttered, ‘but you said that I wasn’t allowed to laugh, I don’t recall that wiping my nose on my wrap was forbidden.’ She peaked at him, eyes brimming with mischief, from behind her shawl.
&nbs
p; ‘Baggage! Do you want to wait for tea or shall we escape now?’
‘I would love to go but won’t it seem uncivil?’
‘No, they’ll think we’re newlywed and going upstairs to celebrate the fact.’ He took her hands and raised her as he spoke so she had no option but to leave with him, her face a becoming shade of pink. A footman lit them to their rooms and on arrival opened her door with a flourish. The servant waited for her to walk through and looked astounded when Leo followed her and quietly closed the door in his face.
‘Leo, you shouldn’t have come in here.’
‘Why not? I’m your husband and you’re my wife, what could be more natural?’
‘A more modest gentleman would have entered this room by the connecting door, not walked brazenly in with his wife,’ she scolded.
In answer he took her gently in his arms and feathered kisses across her face sending delicious tingles up and down her spine. Of her own volition she pressed closer, loving the feel of his hardness against her soft curves. To her consternation he immediately broke the embrace, unhooked her hands from behind his head, and moved away.
‘No, Ellie, my love; my resolve is strong but being so near to you is testing me to breaking.’ His mouth curved in a dark, warm smile. ‘You must not keep me waiting too long, darling; this is driving me insane.’ He left her there, wanting to follow him, but with legs that remained rooted to the floor.
Mary appeared from the dressing-room. ‘I’m sorry my lady, I didn’t realise you’d come up. I hope I haven’t kept you long?’
‘Not at all; I want to be up early tomorrow to explore, so please lay out my green worsted walking dress with the matching pelisse and bonnet, and also my heavy boots. You did pack them, I hope?’
‘Yes, my lady, I did. But I’m not sure you should wear such things here.’
‘Nonsense, they are warm and weather-proof and no one will see them beneath my skirt anyway.’
When she was alone she crept across the darkened room candlestick in her hand, to place her ear against the dividing wall. She didn’t know what noises she expected to hear but the sound of marching feet was certainly not one of them. She slipped like a wraith in her long, white nightgown, back to the enormous four poster bed. Ignoring the steps she scrambled onto the soft feather mattress. The sheets were still warm from the hot bricks Mary had put in earlier. With the curtains drawn round it was almost cosy and to her surprise she fell asleep immediately.
Next morning dawned crisp and cold, the grass silvered with frost and the lake frozen hard. Eleanor ignored her chocolate drink in her eagerness to dress and go out to confirm, or deny, Leo’s scathing description of Rothmere.
‘Do hurry, Mary. I want to breakfast before everyone else is down and then go out for a walk.’
She paused recalling her husband’s joke about getting lost. She opened the door and looked around for a lurking footman; sure enough one appeared, alerted by the sound of her bed chamber door opening.
‘The breakfast parlour, my lady?’
‘Yes, thank you. Am I the first or are there others down before me?’ She realised she had thanked the footman, something she wasn’t supposed to do.
‘Lord Upminster and the Marquis are the only gentlemen down so far, my lady,’ the young man told her with a friendly grin.
The breakfast parlour was the same size as the ballroom at Monk’s Hall. The room was walled with long windows facing the park. An enormous table ran down the centre populated solely by her husband and brother-in-law. They both stood and bowed casually in her direction.
‘Good morning, my love, could you not sleep, either?’ Leo teased as he sauntered towards her.
‘Good morning, Leo. I’m so glad you’re here. And, as you asked, I slept very well, thank you.’
He smiled ruefully. ‘Certainly better than I did. Come and sit with us. What can I get you to eat?’
Over a leisurely breakfast she discovered the brothers were going to ride around the estate. Leo wished to see how things had changed since his last visit.
‘I shall ride Rufus and Gareth will take Hero. Do you want to come; there are dozens of suitable mounts in the stable?’
‘No thank you, I’m going to walk around the park, it looks so beautiful out there.’ She thought of an important question she wished to have answered. ‘Gareth what time is luncheon, I wouldn’t want to miss it.’
‘One o’clock.’
‘Will his grace come down and join us do you think?’
Leo answered, surprised at her ignorance. ‘Luncheon in most grand houses is only for ladies; gentlemen are expected to wait until dinner to eat again.’
‘So that’s why you always eat so much at breakfast,’ she answered laughing.
On her return from her walk, about half-past ten, the house was still empty of guests. Mary removed her outdoor wear and boots and went to put them away. ‘I’ll not need you for a while, Mary. I’m going to explore indoors until nuncheon.’
She now recognised the route to the imposing main stairs and arrived, successfully, in the hall a few minutes later. She looked around for the friendly footman who had escorted her to breakfast.
‘I would like to be taken to the Duke of Rothmere’s apartments.’ If her husband would make no push to heal the rift between his father and himself, she must do it for him.
Chapter Fifteen
Eleanor wandered about the duke’s main reception room wishing she could change her mind and leave, but she could hear voices coming her way.
‘Who did you say, Finch? Lady Upminster? Impertinent chit, I don’t recall inviting her to visit.’ The irascible voice could only belong to Leo’s father. She turned to face the double doors at the far end of the room. They were opened ceremoniously by two footmen and His Grace, the Duke of Rothmere, strode in.
She smiled in delight. He looked exactly like Leo, including the forbidding frown. Now she knew where Leo got his bad temper from. Remembering her manners, she belatedly sunk into a graceful, deep, curtsy, trying unsuccessfully to hide her smile.
‘I am Leo’s wife, Eleanor, your grace.’
‘I know who you are girl, I want to know what the devil you mean by arriving here without an invitation?’
She straightened no sign of a smile now. ‘I am sorry, your grace, if I have intruded, but I was eager to meet you because Leo has told me so much about you.’
‘None of it good, I’ll be bound.’
She shook her head sadly. ‘No, I am afraid it was not.’
Taken aback by her frankness he asked, slightly less frigidly. ‘Well child, what did he say?’
She half smiled. ‘I am not sure I should tell you, your grace, it was not very complimentary.’
‘Tell me, if you please,’ he commanded.
‘Very well, if you insist. He said that you were the healthiest man of your age in the kingdom.’ She smiled and continued, ‘I suppose that is a kind of complement. And he also said you were impervious to charm, that you would dislike me on principal, and,’ she counted on her fingers, ‘that you had a heart of stone.’
The duke’s bark of laughter echoed round the room, surprising his two retainers who were guarding the doors. ‘Good God, miss, you are an original!’ He smiled, his slate grey eyes, the image of Leo’s, alight with amusement. ‘Come and sit with me. I wish to get better acquainted.’
She stayed with him until the time came for her to change for luncheon. The morning, she considered, had been well spent. After the meal she escaped and decided to visit the library until Leo returned.
This was on the first floor, and ran the length of the West Wing; it shelved thousands of leather bound books. She had been there less than twenty minutes when Sir Bertram Jenkins accosted her. She was almost felled by his brandy fuelled breath; being in his cups made him more dangerous and less likely to be open to reason.
‘All alone, my dear,’ he said, his eyes riveted on her bosom. ‘Permit me to keep you company for a while.’
Eleanor
took one horrified glance at the predatory gleam in his eye and started to retreat. ‘I am just leaving, sir, and I have no wish for your company.’ Her voice was correct and formal, a clear indication she wasn’t available for dalliance of any sort. Sir Bertram refused to be denied. He lunged forward, trying to trap her against the bookshelves. Stifling a small screen of distress she fended him off, but in the struggle a strip of the tiny roses that decorated her neckline was torn away leaving a gaping hole in her bodice.
This affront galvanised her into retaliation. She bunched her fist and punched her attacker in the eye; the force of her unexpected blow sent him staggering backwards and allowed her to escape. She ran down the library frantically searching for an exit. Halfway down she found a door, and not caring where it led to, she snatched it open and fled through it.
Outside she was faced with a long hallway full of similar doors, none of which looked in the slightest bit familiar. She mustn’t meet anyone, even staff, with her dress torn so revealingly and had to find her own way back to her room. Her heartbeat slowly returned to normal and as her fear receded it was replaced by indignation. She hoped, when she told Leo, he would call the obnoxious Sir Bertram out.
Meanwhile, a footman seeing Sir Bertram follow Lady Upminster into the library, and knowing his unsavoury reputation, raced downstairs to summon discreet assistance. Fortunately he met Leo on his way to join his wife.
On hearing who was in the library Leo took the stairs two at a time. He burst into the room just as Eleanor escaped but saw the strip of roses still clutched, incriminatingly, in his cousin’s hand. Giving Bertram no warning he grabbed his shoulder, swung him around and landed a massive blow full in his face. He followed it with several more shattering jabs to the body and with hardly a whimper the man collapsed unconscious.
Still blind with anger he leant down and was preparing to take his wife’s attacker and throw him bodily through the window when there was a discreet cough from behind him. Leo dropped his hand and gave the butler a rueful smile, his anger under control now. ‘Pity, I’d hoped to pitch this object out, but I suppose I must refrain.’
A Marriage of Convenience Page 10