“Lucy, Harold, did you have a restful sleep?”
“We did. It is a great pleasure to be here,” Harold replied.
Lucy went over and placed her hand on George’s arm. “Oh, my dear friend, how can I ever thank you for standing up for me last night. I am still swimming in a dream. I feel like I can breathe deeply for the first time in my life.”
“It is only right.” He addressed Harold, “And thank you, Harold, for your story. Somehow it made all the difference. I have been trying for years to get the family to accept Lucy as one of us. And it is only now that they have come around—or at least my father has—and he is the one who counts when it comes to family decisions.”
Harold turned to his sister and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I have found my angel at last. And that is all that matters to me.”
“We are off to visit Isabell,” Lucy said.
“Then I shall see you at lunch? I missed you at breakfast.”
“We had breakfast in our rooms. Such a luxury. And I am not certain her Grace would have approved of me at the breakfast table—at least not yet.”
“I must head out. Enjoy your visit,” George said and then headed toward the barn.
As they began walking toward Isabell’s Lucy said, “How very fortunate you were to be found by the Bartletts. They sound like very fine people.”
“They were. And I owe my entire present existence to their splendid care.”
“Do you still reside in London?” she asked.
“No, I sold the house along with the business. I have never forgotten my roots and find the country more accommodating to my tastes.”
“Then you must be quite wealthy, is that not so?”
Harold glanced at her. “It is. But it is not my primary concern. Finding you has been. And now I have found you.”
“Then what is next for you?”
“I am uncertain. And you? What are your hopes and dreams, dear sister? Is there anyone special in your life?”
Lucy explained about her writing and her struggle to find the time to write, despite her success with getting published earlier.
“Then now you are freed up to write again.”
Lucy squeezed his arm and looked at him with a smile. “Yes, I am. I had not thought about that until just now. But unless I wake up and find this is all a dream, and I am called upon to wait on her Grace’s every need again, I should be able to spend my time on my writing.”
Lucy realized she had not answered Harold’s question about someone special in her life, but she did not want to discuss that. It was still too personal, and her intentions were still unformed. But that made her think of Betsy.
“Brother, do you have some young lady in your life?”
Harold chuckled. “Why, yes—you.”
“No, I mean a special lady friend?”
“I do not. There has been no time for such considerations. And, quite frankly, the London society ladies are not to my taste. I believe I am just a country lad at heart—despite my education and patrician upbringing.”
“Well, I happen to know there is a certain young lady who is greatly smitten with you.”
“Oh, and who might that be? I know no one in this area.”
“You do now.”
“You mean one of the sisters?”
“I do.”
“Not Miss Ann, I hope. She has such a sour disposition.”
“Not Ann but Betsy, the youngest sister.”
Harold considered that. “Betsy… Huh. I shall need to get to know her. But she is quite lovely. You must know her well.”
“I do. And she and George are the only members of the family who ever treated me well as I was growing up.”
“Then I shall find a time to get acquainted with her.”
They had now reached Isabell’s cottage, and little Chrissy was the first to spot them and came squealing over toward them. The noise, of course, brought Isabell out of the house.
“Lucy, I was not expecting you,” Isabell said coming over to give Lucy a hug.
Isabell stood back and studied the stranger accompanying her.
“And Isabell, might I introduce you to my brother, Harold?”
Isabell had been delighted to meet Harold, but even happier to learn of Lucy’s new integration into the Grayson family—although she was not fully accepted yet by her Grace or two of the sisters.
They spent most of the rest of the morning visiting with Isabell, and Harold was delighted with little Chrissy, who reminded him of one of their sisters who had perished in the fire.
Returning to Grayson Manor after their visit, Lucy said, “I have a dilemma, Harold.”
“Yes?”
She explained about the job offer from Lady Harding.
“Oh… and are you going to accept it?”
“I was going to. I had so little income, I thought I must accept. But now that we have reunited, I am uncertain what to do. I do not want us to be separated again.”
“Lucy, you need not want for money. I have more than enough and would be happy to settle a handsome amount on you if you choose to marry.”
Lucy grabbed hold tightly on Harold’s arm. “You would do that?”
He kissed the top of her head. “Very happily. But more than that I want you to be free of needing to take a job you do not want if you would rather pursue your writing.”
Lucy was too overcome with emotion to answer him immediately. Her mind began churning again, and her first thought was of George. If she were to have a substantial living to offer, might he consider her as a bride? But, of course, his family would have a say in that, and she knew the Duchess was too much against her.
She wiped tears from her eyes before saying, “But we cannot stay on at Grayson Manor indefinitely. You must have your own dreams and plans, and I must become independent at some point soon.”
Harold considered that, “That is true, but we are still discovering each other, and I am not yet settled on a plan for myself. Since I have been invited to stay for a while, let us take our time, and I believe we will discover what our next steps should be. Be patient, dear sister.”
The Duchess, along with Charlotte and Ann, decided to have lunch in their chambers rather than sit at the table again with Lucy and Harold. George and Matthew noticed the slight, but decided that time would mend any rifts eventually. None of the ladies would be content being separated from the table for long.
Lucy said she would visit the Duchess and see if she could help Flossy in any way to help serve the Duchess to her satisfaction.
After the brief lunch was over, Matthew accompanied George and Harold to his study. He opened his humidor and offered George and Harold cigars, although neither accepted.
Matthew lit his cigar and began pacing the room while George and Harold sat before the desk.
Finally, he turned to Harold and said, “Mr. Brighton…”
“You may call me Harold if you wish, sir.”
“Harold. I was most taken with our conversation last night at dinner. I can see you are very knowledgeable about the wool trade, and you seem to have a firm grasp of what it takes to manage a shearing operation.”
“I believe so,” Harold said.
Matthew then turned to George. “Son, I want you to know that I am very appreciative of your efforts to master the running of the estate. I know your passion is your painting…”
“Father, I…”
Matthew raised his hand to silence George. “Son, hear me out. I am not disputing your painting. You have proven to me that you are making quite a career for yourself with the London crowd. But here is what I have been thinking since last night.” He addressed Harold, “I am not in the top health I used to be, nor do I have my full vigor. Age is taking its toll. What I would like to do, sir, is to offer you the opportunity to help me co-manage the estate.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you said you have left London, love it here in Dorset, and at some point, wish to settle in the county. Is that no
t what you told me last night?”
Harold nodded. “I did. But I have no set plans, as of yet.”
“Exactly. And that is why it would be to both of our advantages if you were to join me in running the estate. George would then be free to work on his painting full time” He turned to George, “except I would need you to keep current on what we are doing.”
“Of course. I could do that.” George was beaming now.
“Would you consider accepting this offer, Mr. Brighton? I am prepared to pay you a handsome salary, and if I choose to retire, you could help ease George back into the management.”
“But I am not yet established in Dorset,” Harold reminded him.
“You may stay on at the Manor as long as needed until you establish your own accommodations.”
Harold stood and faced Matthew. “I should like to think on this. And then I need to consider Lucy. Now that we are reunited I must consult with her before I make such a decision. And as her status has greatly changed in this house since my arrival, I would need to know where she would fit in if I were to accept your offer.”
Matthew rubbed his chin. “Excellent point. As far as I am concerned, she is now a member of the family and equal to me and my daughters. However, I know the Duchess, and several of my girls do not think as I do. I would have to consult with them on this, and we can discuss it later.”
“I understand.”
“George, what do you think about this?”
“I am, as you might expect, fully behind this idea. It would free me up to do more work, and I could expand the number of paintings I send to the gallery, as the owner has often encouraged me to do.” Then George excitedly contemplated the situation with Lucy. “And Father, about Miss Lucy. If she was truly to be considered as an equal to any member of this family would that also mean she would be accepted as a suitable bride in our society?”
“Hmm. Excellent point. Again, I would need to consult with the Duchess. She knows the social protocols much better than I do. I will need to get back to you on that point.”
Chapter 24
Charlotte and Ann were in Ann’s room scheming. How to capture Mr. Beaumont? They needed to get him alone—without his sister or mother and in a situation that did not seem forced. The meeting must appear to be accidental.
“Does he ever go into town?” Charlotte asked. “Perhaps we could meet him by chance on the street and then retire to a tea shop for a visit.”
Ann was leafing through a periodical as Charlotte lounged in a window seat. “Very difficult to arrange,” Ann said. “How would we know when he is to be in town? And most likely he would not be alone.”
“True…”
“Or we could call on him at home, saying we were out walking and you twisted your ankle, and might he assist us?” Ann suggested.
“Again, no guarantee his mother and sister would not be fussing over us. And would he not wonder how I walked all the way to Brookdale on a twisted ankle?”
“Might any of our servants be friendly with any of the Goodwin staff? Maybe we could obtain information as to Mr. Beaumont’s habits. Perhaps he rides regularly or plays whist on Wednesdays, or some such thing. That might allow us to cross his path accidentally when he might be without his mother and sister.”
“Or if he goes riding we might place ourselves in his path and feign an ankle sprain as you suggested and called upon him for his help,” Charlotte thought aloud. “That would appear to be even more of an accidental meeting.”
“Oh, that is an excellent stratagem.”
“But who might we approach on the staff to enlist as a spy for us?”
“Would Stevens know of someone?” Ann asked.
Charlotte squinched up her face. “Oh, he would never agree. He is far too strict. We need someone with less responsibility?”
“Mrs. Mead?”
“Again, too responsible.”
“One of the housemaids,” Ann asked.
Charlotte shook her head. “Too stupid.”
Then they looked at each other at the same time as they both got the same idea and said in unison, “Lucy.”
Harold was anxious to seek out his sister after the meeting with the Duke. He was still unfamiliar with the layout of the house, so did not know where to look except for the drawing room and their suite. He went directly to their rooms and found Lucy seated at a desk, writing.
“Here you are. Most fortuitous. I have some news concerning both of our futures.”
Lucy swiveled in her chair to face him. “That I should like to hear.” Harold explained the details of the Duke’s offer of employment. She listened carefully and was thoughtful when he concluded the news. “And is this something you would like to do?”
“Yes, I believe so,” her brother said. “Not that I really need to take a job for income. I am financially self-sufficient. But I do like to keep busy, and I believe you and I both need time to adjust to our new situations.”
“Then they would let both of us continue living here at Grayson Manor?” Lucy asked, appearing to have some concerns.
“For the time being. Eventually, I would like to buy property and establish that as our home. But it will take time to find the right estate, and I want to be sure I know exactly how I want to put my money to best use. Does that make sense to you?”
“I am a little concerned about the family’s reaction to my new status here. I believe the Duchess, Ann, and Charlotte are finding it difficult to adjust to my circumstances and I do not want to create contention in the family.”
Harold strode to the window and looked out over the estate, saying, “His Grace said he would speak to the Duchess about these matters.” He came over and took a chair next to Lucy. “I realize this is a big adjustment for you—and for me as well. But as I get to know you better each day, I find you to be warm and generous, and I cannot help but think that eventually, you will win them over.”
He stood up and gave her a kiss on the forehead.
Lucy stood, as well, and took her brother’s hand. “Then, if you accept this offer, I believe I shall write Lady Harding and decline her offer of employment. I would much prefer staying here and concentrating on my writing. In fact, I believe I shall write my publisher today and tell him to expect new work from me shortly.”
“And, with your permission, I shall return to the Duke and accept his offer of employment.”
“You do not need my permission, but I do grant you my best wishes.”
After Harold accepted the Duke’s offer, he and Lucy decided, if they were to remain living at Grayson for the foreseeable future, it would be necessary for them to come out of hiding in their suite and join the family for tea that very afternoon.
Much to Lucy’s surprise, when they entered the drawing room for tea, she found unexpected welcoming smiles from Ann and Charlotte. Her Grace, however, looked much less happy, turning instead to her new puppy, Princess, and lavishing it with kisses and totally ignoring Lucy’s entrance.
Betsy’s face lit up when she saw Harold, but she quickly became shy and could not look at him.
Harold went to the Duchess and greeted her. “Your Grace, what a pleasure to see you again.”
“Mr. Brighton,” she said curtly.
But Harold was not to be put off by her coldness. “Your husband and I have come to an agreement. I am to co-manage the estate with him for the foreseeable future. I am happy to be of service to your family, and I trust that my sister’s and my continued presence will not disrupt you and your family’s established tranquility.”
The Duchess looked up at him. “Yes, he has spoken to me about this new arrangement. I see no reason for it, but he seems to think it is necessary.”
“Your Grace, it looks to me like you need a refill of your tea. Might I assist you in that?”
Judith turned to Flossy and jerked her head at the girl who sprang up to fetch her Grace more tea.
“Thank you, but I am taken care of.”
Harold nodded and step
ped away. He obtained a cup of tea for himself and then surveyed the room. He saw Betsy sitting alone and went over to her and sat in a nearby chair.
“Miss Betsy, it seems we will be seeing a lot of each other from now on, as I am to assist your father with the estate.”
She looked over at him shyly. “That is what I understand,” she replied holding her book tightly in her lap.
The Legend of the Betrayed Duchess_A Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 18