The countess screamed and promptly had a fit of the vapours. Caroline burst into tears and Mr. Crawdon was shouting above the din that someone should go for a doctor.
Rebecca felt sick at the sights and sounds surrounding her.
“My lady” —Maura had clasped her hand— “are you well?”
Rebecca took a steadying breath and took in the scene once more. She would be no good to anyone, least of all her father, if she were to swoon now. In the absence of their brother Charles, who was still at Oxford and would likely spend the Season in London, being something of a man about town, and given that her mother and Caroline were currently indisposed, it fell to Rebecca to take control of the situation.
“I am well, Maura.” Her voice shook alarmingly but she forced herself to stay calm and gradually felt less dizzy.
Rebecca marched over to Caroline and pulled her into a quick hug.
“Come, Caro. We must help Mama.” Guiding her older sister by the shoulders, she rushed down the stairs.
“Murphy,” she called to the usually unflappable butler who was looking decidedly uneasy at this moment. “Have them put my father in his study. The chaise there should be big enough for him. And loosen his cravat.”
“You there,” she pointed to a footman who was hovering by the door, “fetch the doctor immediately.”
“Your grace,” she lowered her tone in deference to the older lady who was kneeling by her mother’s prostate form. Mama had not yet succumbed to a dead faint but did not seem far off. “Please accompany my mother to her room. I shall come directly.”
“Of course, my dear,” the dowager moved immediately, coaxing the countess from the floor and instructing the lady’s maid to go on ahead of them.
“Maura, please fetch the smelling salts and bring them to my mother’s room along with some strong, sweet tea. She will want to see my father soon but must calm herself first.”
Maura bobbed a quick curtsey and went on her way.
Rebecca took a fortifying breath. She had not even looked properly at her father yet, but felt a little better having taken some control of the situation.
She turned to address Caroline and was, for a moment, struck dumb by the sight before her. Caroline was still weeping, though silently now and Mr. Crawdon was holding her in a tight embrace, his lips close to her ear murmuring something that Rebecca could not hear.
What shocked Rebecca was the intimacy of the pose. Mr. Crawdon looked pained by Caroline’s distress and Rebecca could not help but feel that she was witnessing a private moment. But it was far from private; they were in the entrance hall for goodness sake.
“Caroline,” she called gently and her voice seemed to pull both Caroline and Mr. Crawdon back to their senses. They jumped apart and Caroline looked even more distressed.
“Caro,” Rebecca repeated, “I am going to sit with Papa until the doctor arrives. Perhaps you can check on Mama?”
Caroline nodded her assent mutely and, studiously avoiding making eye contact with either of them, she swept off to assist the countess.
Rebecca did not have the time or inclination to question Mr. Crawdon about his rather familiar behaviour. Her mind was wholly occupied with her father.
She set off toward the study with Mr. Crawdon falling into step beside her.
“Allow me to say, Lady Rebecca, you would be a great asset as a military general! I’ve rarely seen a person bark orders with so much authority, certainly not a person who does not come past my shoulder,” he quipped.
Rebecca allowed herself a small smile.
“I am my father’s daughter in many ways, Mr. Crawdon,” she answered lightly, then immediately sobered. “Please, tell me exactly what happened.”
“Truly, my lady, I do not know. He complained of pain as I said and, on the ride back he — he just slumped over. He almost came off his horse but thankfully we were close to the house and the footmen who accompanied us were able to support him while I rode ahead to raise the alarm.”
They had reached the study and both slipped inside quietly. Murphy had done as he was instructed and her father lay tucked under an array of blankets on the large and comfortable chaise under the window.
Rebecca felt ill again looking at his deathly still form. His breathing was terribly shallow and she’d never seen anyone look so pale.
She felt tears spring to her eyes as she made her way slowly to his side and dropped to her knees, grasping his hand. It was freezing.
Behind her, Rebecca heard Caroline and her mother enter the room. The countess came immediately to her side and Rebecca moved away to allow her mother to take her place.
She turned back and noticed that, although he wasn’t now touching her, Mr. Crawdon had moved to her sister’s side and was standing protectively over her.
It made Rebecca yearn for someone to watch over her, protect her. Her mind threw up an image of Edward and she nearly sobbed aloud. She knew that if he’d been there he would have made everything better. Just having his commanding presence in the house would have made her feel safer and less scared.
None of them knew what to do or how to help. So they stood in silence, keeping vigil until the doctor’s arrival.
That man thankfully came soon after. The countess rushed to the door and out into the hall before he’d even removed his hat.
“Dr. Austin, please follow me.”
The doctor came immediately to the study and having glanced briefly at his patient, turned and shooed everyone from the room save the countess who would not be budged, and Murphy who would offer assistance.
Rebecca stood outside with Caroline, their hands firmly clasped.
“My ladies,” Mr. Crawdon spoke quietly, “please allow me to escort you to the drawing room and have something brought to you. Some sweet tea, or a glass of wine perhaps? To help with the shock.”
They consented for there was little point in standing in the hallway. Making sure a footman knew to come directly when the doctor had left, they made their way to the drawing room where they found the dowager had already called for tea things.
She fussed over the sisters and Mr. Crawdon did all he could for their comfort.
But silence soon ensued broken every now and then by a reassurance from the duchess or Mr. Crawdon. Rebecca noticed that his gaze focused most of the time on Caroline.
He had the same brooding expression as his cousin, Rebecca noticed distractedly. Their looks were vastly different, though both exuded a maleness and strength that was hard to find in other men. But where Mr. Crawdon’s demeanour was always sunny and rarely as serious as it was now, the duke’s was more brooding, and much more serious.
Rebecca’s eyes took in Mr. Crawdon’s crystal blue gaze trained on Caroline and his ever so slightly too long, sandy hair streaked with blond. She smiled in spite of the grave situation. Edward’s hair would never dare to be over long! It had probably stopped growing altogether for fear of his displeasure.
At that moment Caroline’s gaze found Mr. Crawdon’s and he smiled tenderly, offering comfort in his expression.
Rebecca looked away to glance out at the lake she’d fallen into on that most memorable of days. Mr. Crawdon appeared to be enamoured of her sister. It was a shame. Caroline would never marry a gentleman who was not titled. She probably would not be allowed to. Their parents were wonderful people but very much believed in traditional Society rules.
Just as Rebecca could never be a duchess, Caroline could never be less than one, or at the very least less than a countess.
Rebecca looked back and could not help the envy she felt knowing that Caroline had a pillar of strength waiting for her to want him.
She yearned for Edward with an intensity that shocked her once again.
The door opened and Rebecca and Caroline jumped to their feet. But it was not a footman who entered. Their mother came in looking pale and older than her years.
Rebecca’s heart clenched in abject fear at the tears streaking her mother’s face.
But the
countess smiled and held out her arms to her two daughters.
“He is going to be just fine my dears. All is well.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
As soon as the countess was settled with a snifter of brandy, Mr. Crawdon had insisted they all needed something stronger than tea, she told them what had occurred with Doctor Austin.
“Murphy is arranging to have your father removed to his rooms. Doctor Austin said complete bed rest is absolutely vital for the coming weeks.”
“But what happened Mama?” Rebecca gripped her mother’s hand tightly.
“He had a heart attack, dearest,” the countess replied gently. “We must ensure now that he is given total relaxation, a stricter diet and an altogether healthier lifestyle.”
Rebecca and Caroline nodded in agreement, all the while trying to process the information that their father, a giant in their eyes, had been taken so very ill in so short a time.
“But, he will make a full recovery?” the dowager enquired softly.
“Doctor Austin sees no reason why he should not, so long as we follow his instructions to the letter.”
The party lapsed into silence borne mostly from emotional exhaustion the past hour had inflicted on them.
“May we see him, Mama?” Caroline asked anxiously.
“Of course, my dear. Just give Murphy a chance to speak to Stevens, his valet,” she explained to Mr. Crawdon and her grace, “and get him settled into his room. A half hour should suffice. Though I warn you he has had laudanum so will likely be in a deep sleep for the rest of the evening.”
“I suppose that we should use the time then to speak to the servants and have our trunks unpacked,” stated Rebecca making her way to ring the bell and call for a maid.
“Goodness me, I had quite forgotten we were to leave. Of course we will need to cancel our arrangements immediately.”
“Do not distress yourself, Mama. I will speak to the staff at once and Cook must be informed that the family will be here after all, lest we all starve.” Rebecca tried to lighten the mood. In truth, she felt such relief that her father was going to be fine it made her almost giddy.
Not travelling to London was not the end of the world. There would always be next year when Papa was stronger. Rebecca tried not to think about the duke and the fact that she would not be seeing him again as she had thought.
The door opened and Rebecca asked the young girl who entered to send Murphy to them directly when he had finished with Stevens and her father’s needs.
“Mary,” the dowager spoke up, “if I might speak with you for a moment in private?”
The younger occupants of the room, somewhat surprised at the dowager’s uncharacteristic impoliteness, immediately made to leave.
The countess looked equally surprised and bid Rebecca to stay in her room so that she may summon her when Murphy collected the staff to deal with the announcement. Rebecca was much like her father in that she was a born leader. Charles would be the same. Caroline had taken after Lady Ranford in that she was quiet and, although efficient, wasn’t given to taking a leadership role in anything.
Rebecca nodded her agreement and swept from the room with Caroline and Mr. Crawdon. Crawdon took his leave directly, explaining his intention to write to the duke and inform him of the change of plan. He felt, and was probably correct, that the dowager would extend her stay to offer assistance or even merely a shoulder to cry on for her old friends.
Rebecca and Caroline, not wanting to be alone and craving the sibling bond, had both repaired to Rebecca’s room. Though they were disappointed about the cancellation of their plans, both were ready to do so without a second thought.
As soon as the young people had left the room, Lady Hartridge leaned over and grasped her old friend’s hand in hers.
“My dearest Mary, I cannot tell you how pleased I am that Charles will pull through. What a fright he gave us all.”
Lady Ranford shuddered at the memory of her husband’s still form being carried in.
“Indeed, I have never been so frightened. Rebecca handled things beautifully, did she not?”
“Unsurprisingly,” replied the dowager, “that girl could rule the world.”
The countess smiled proudly. No doubt Rebecca had caused more headaches in this household than every other occupant combined, but she was a treasure.
“What was it that you needed to speak with me about, Catherine?”
“Ah, you mean when I was rude enough to demand your own daughters leave them room?” the dowager quipped.
The countess merely smiled and awaited the answer.
“Of course Charles will not be travelling now, and nor will you I warrant. And nobody could or would expect you too. However, I would like to still take the girls to Town for the Season.”
The countess gaped at her old friend. “Catherine, that is excessively kind. However I do not think—”
“Hear me out, please. Before you decide. I realise that your mind is wholly occupied with Charles at present. And, of course, the girls probably would not even want to have a Season now. But, Charles is in no serious danger if Doctor Austin is correct and there is no reason to suppose he is not. All of the preparations have been made. And, if you will permit me to speak candidly, your daughters are a true joy though perhaps they are not as — er — relaxing to be around as some.”
The dowager awaited her friend’s reaction. She meant no slight on the young ladies of whom she’d become excessively fond. But there was no denying that the youngest in particular was quite a handful at times.
Her description of the girls seemed to set the countess thinking.
“The house would certainly be quieter,” Lady Mary started hesitantly.
The dowager nodded but stayed quiet.
“And, though I would miss them, I have no real need for them to stay. We are more than capable of seeing to Charles’ needs.”
“You would not be too lonely?”
“Oh no, think nothing of that. I have plenty of friends who will not remove for the summer.”
A silence fell while the countess thought on the proposal.
“Charles would dearly love to see them married,” she finally said. “And I am sure my son could be prevailed upon to stay in our house in Mayfair with the girls. He usually takes rooms for himself if he prefers not to return home.”
Again, the dowager nodded but did not comment, wanting to allow her friend to make her own decision.
“I am not sure that he would be a suitable chaperone for the girls, however. He certainly is not as responsible as I’d like him to be, though his youth plays a large part in that.”
“Of course,” answered the dowager, “but I confess, I had thought that perhaps the girls could stay with me for the duration.”
“Oh Catherine, you are too generous! I could not expect you to take on full responsibility for two ladies’ coming outs. Especially when one of them is Rebecca,” she added drily.
The dowager laughed aloud at this.
“What nonsense! They would liven the place up. And there could be no impropriety as Edward occupies his own townhouse. I would appreciate the company. And Rebecca, for all her energy is vastly entertaining. I think we would rub along quite well together.”
The countess began to see the merits in the plan.
It would no doubt ease Charles’ mind to see at least one of his children married off. And she did so hate to disappoint her girls quite literally at the last moment. After all, they had been due to leave at first light.
She trusted her friend implicitly and had already had the duke’s assurances that he would help to keep them safe.
Plus, Charles would be there. Though she presumed he would return home first when he received word of his father’s sickness, he was sure to return to London for at least some of the Season.
All in all it seemed a good idea.
Her mind made up, she smiled at her friend and said “Thank you, dearest Catherine. I should love the girls to go with
you.”
****
Dinner that night was a solemn affair, though Mr. Crawdon did his utmost to keep the tone jovial.
The earl had not woken yet from his deep sleep, but Doctor Austin had convinced the ladies that this was perfectly normal and, indeed, a good thing. He had returned home for a few hours’ respite but was returning to spend the night and would be a constant presence at the Hall, should the earl need him.
However, aside from the worry about the earl’s health, there was the standoff that Rebecca and her mother were currently engaged in.
Rebecca and Caroline had not long repaired to Rebecca’s room to await their Mama when the countess swept it and announced that they were still to travel to London the next day, and were to remain in London for the Season with the dowager duchess.
They protested immediately and loudly, neither one willing to leave their father while he was so ill, or leave their mother to deal with his sickness alone.
“My darling girls,” the countess had done her best to appease them, “I have already written to your brother and had the note dispatched this very afternoon. I am quite confident that he will return home with haste when he reads our news. Not only that but it will give your father and I great pleasure to know that you are enjoying your Seasons, and putting yourselves into the path of marriageable young men.”
“Do you not see?” the dowager, who had accompanied their mother piped in, “your father’s greatest wish for you both is for you to make a good match. Think how pleased he would be, how relaxed he would be to know that you were out there, pursuing a marriage, putting his mind at ease…” she finished coaxingly, her impassioned plea seeming more than a little contrived to Rebecca, who suspected it had been rehearsed.
Caroline immediately looked shame faced and went to the countess to grasp her hands.
“Oh Mama, I feel this is all my fault. If the duke and I had agreed to the contract, perhaps Papa would have been less stressed. I shall go to London with her grace and endeavour to make you and Papa proud.”
Rebecca, however, eyed the dowager with a sceptical expression.
An Unlikely Duchess Page 14