The Viscount and the Heiress
Page 7
“Who?”
His brother William, Isabel’s father, and then finally Isabel herself all raised their hands. “Peter and Parker said you needed your friends here.”
“Did they?” Although he tried for terse, he couldn’t hide that he was touched by the thought. He reached out and rubbed the two youngest boys’ blond heads.” Shall we get you some seats?”
“No need. We have been sitting for hours.” Miranda, Andrew’s countess said, sidling up to her husband. “Please continue.”
Fifteen minutes later, Isabel was declared wife and Countess to her earl. The cheer that rose from the three other couples made the wedding party seem larger than it was. Jonathon turned to his bride and whispered, “You might regret sending for them.”
She doubted it. They brought a lightness to everyone. She also suspected they were about to take over their life for the next several days at the very least. She soon knew it for a fact as they came upon the house a few hours later to find all the mattresses outside and linens being cleaned and hung to dry. Windows stood open and an army of people were busy cleaning and freshening rooms that had lain empty and unkempt. “What is going on?”
“You can’t expect to bring your bride to your home when it’s in such bad shape,” Lyssa said as if it was a stupid question. “Consider this part of our wedding gift to you.”
“Not from me,” Wolfe announced. “My gift to you is something else.”
“As is mine.” Andrew smiled. “Come on. Let me show you. Is it okay if I steal your husband?”
She nodded and could only watch as the four men disappeared around the large stone house. Lyssa, who had taken on the role of duchess, spoke for the group. “We felt that the last thing you needed were silver trays and tea sets.”
“I hope it’s okay that we are unconventional,” Chandra said with a smile.
“What are they showing him?” Curiosity was an evil that always caught Isabel in its trap.
“I believe Wolfe is showing him seeds and introducing him to our grounds manager. Charles is in charge of our fields and what we harvest every year.”
“I can’t remember the last time they planted crops here.”
“Your late father-in-law was not known for his estate management. But let’s not speak ill of the dead,” Llysa said.
“Especially when all that can be said of the man is ill.” Chandra rolled her eyes in a very unladylike manner.
“And not on her wedding day.” Miranda nudged them both. “Andrew is giving him some of our stock. A few dairy cows, chickens, and because the man loves to fish, he is restocking the lake.” She smiled.
“Fish?”
“The last is purely selfish on his part. He knows we won’t see the new earl in London much, thus we will have to come here. And Andrew wants to fish. So, you must have fish.”
“Simon has hired a few men to come out and repair the stables and barn.” Chandra added.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“There is nothing to say, my dear.” Llysa intertwined her arm with hers. “We have been wondering how to help, but, until the invitation came, we had no way without his stubborn pride getting in the way.”
“But one cannot turn away a wedding gift.”
“Precisely,” the three women said in full agreement, with smiles that could light up a room. She liked them all immensely and hoped she would be part of their fold.
Funny how Jonathon claimed he no longer had a place in his life for pride, yet, at every turn, he’d refused help freely given.
“If it weren’t for Jonathon, none of us would have gone to see Madame Eve and met our true loves,” Llysa shared.
“To be fair, two of us knew our true loves but needed nudges in the right direction,” Chandra added with a slight blush.
“I have a confession to make. I overheard you all speaking about it.”
The three ladies all blushed at the same time. But when Chandra spoke, she couldn’t have been more shocked. “We knew you were there. Actually, Peter and Patrick informed Simon that they set up the date for Jonathon with 1Night Stand but had no way of getting you to do the same.”
“You set me up?”
“Well, Madame Evangeline did that. We just got the ball rolling.”
“Don’t be mad at us.” Lyssa grabbed her hands. “Please, we just wanted him happy, and you obviously make him happy.”
“No, I am making him a father.”
All three women gaped at her belly. “You’re…?” the trio said.
Lyssa reached into her bag and handed an envelope to Isabel. “What is this?”
“You won. Men aren’t the only one who put bets on the books. Ours was who would get in the family way first.” Lyssa pouted and headed for the front door as a maid met her with an apron. She tied it on and covered her long blonde locks with a head scarf. “So, where shall we start?”
“You heard Her Grace.” Miranda smiled. “What, milady, would you like us to work on?”
Somehow, having a duchess, marchioness, and another countess cleaning her house seemed social suicide. “You shouldn’t be doing this.”
“First, none of us are above this, and second, none of us are willing to stay in this house the way it is.” Chandra swiped her white-gloved finger over the windowsill, bringing it up brown with dirt.
The cringe she fought so hard to keep down rose to the surface. The house, her new home, was nothing short of a disaster. “My family would be more than willing to put you all up.”
“And that will get this house clean how? There hasn’t been a woman’s touch in this place since Jonathon’s mother died, and, even then, I don’t think she had much of a say in the running of the household.” Chandra searched her large carpetbag. She finally pulled out a mobcap and found a second for Miranda.
“No, the late earl was very controlling. I heard stories about him,” Miranda admitted, shoving her red curls under the cap as she took in the room.
The two younger boys came running down the stairs. “Have you seen your bedchamber, Isabel?”
“No, I haven’t been in the house in a couple of days and certainly never been up on the upper levels.”
Eleven-year-old Peter grabbed her hand. “Come on.”
She followed with the three ladies at her heels. The house already possessed a lightness about it that had been absent before. The opened windows cleared the mustiness of the old rooms, and someone had already taken wax to the banister, bringing out the lighter wood and erasing years of neglect. “Where did you find all these people to work?”
“Easy. Wolfe’s staff came with us and rode ahead to town to find anyone wanting to make some extra money.”
Peter threw open the countess’s door, and, to her shock she walked into a beautiful room. “Your father sent up the furniture and your mother choose the bedding.”
“But Jonathon set up the room to insure it was perfect for you,” Patrick added with pride.
“Was this your mother’s room?” Chandra asked.
Peter shook his head. “No one uses my mother’s room or my father’s. Not even Jonathon now that he is the earl.”
“Too many bad memories.” Llysa took the boy out into the hall. “How about we two start on your mother’s room? It’s time for someone to open it, don’t you think?”
The little boy nodded. His big sapphire eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Yes, please, Your Grace.”
What must it be like to know your mother died bringing you into the world? She doubted anyone talked of his mother and bet that neither Peter nor Patrick, the two youngest, had ever heard stories about their mother.
“Milady.” A woman dressed in the green-and-black livery of the marquis curtsied. “The kitchen would like to know when you would like them to start dinner and for how many.”
“Kitchen staff?” Isabel knew for a fact no one had worked in the kitchen in years.
“Two local women, a mother and her d
aughter,” Chandra filled in. “They are here for our stay. If you’d like to keep them on, I am sure you can work it out.”
“Tell them I will be right down.”
“You have this, or do you want some help?” Chandra asked. “Being thrown into running a well-managed estate can be overwhelming, let alone one in disrepair.”
“Help would be greatly appreciated.” At every turn, when she most felt she would be alone, these women knew what she needed.
“Then take Miranda. She has spent her entire life training to be a countess and is the best choice for running a household,” Chandra said with a smile.
The next few hours passed in a whirlwind of answering questions she didn’t know the answers to and looking to Miranda for answers when she could. Dinner proved a casual and loud event. The only table large enough to hold everyone was in the kitchen, and, although she would have thought it beneath their graces, they seemed right at home in the kitchen with all the brothers.
Unlike most weekends parties she had attended where the men and the women would separate immediately after the evening repast, everyone stayed in the kitchen long after the meal had been cleaned up. That there were no other gathering rooms furnished didn’t leave her mind. By eleven that evening, the women made a big deal of yawning, and their husbands, being no slouches, picked up on the hints.
Soon, the newlyweds were left alone, and she couldn’t have been more nervous had she been a virgin. “Do you require your lady’s maid for the evening?” asked her new husband.
She shook her head. “She is still down at my parents’ house. I think they believed you would be able to assist me tonight.”
She followed him up the stairs to the new countesses bedchamber. Once inside, he lit two of the lanterns to give her plenty of light. She offered her back to him, and the laces released. “Is there anything else you require?”
“Require? Aren’t you staying in here tonight?”
“No. It’s been a long day, and the only reason you agreed to marry me was because you are with child. I am not so desperate that I will demand my marital rights.”
“I don’t think of it as a demand.”
He shrugged. “Even so, we did not marry for love, and, as you are expecting, we do not need to consummate the marriage.”
For lack of anything else to say and perhaps a desire to delay him, she sputtered, “Thank you for the room.”
“It was a joint effort.” He headed for the door but paused. “I apologize that we have so many guests here. I never expected them to stay.”
“I like them.”
“They like you. Good night, Countess.”
She hadn’t expected to sleep alone on her wedding night, but sleep had taken her. When a knock sounded on her door, she was disorientated as to her location at first. She opened the door to find Patrick before her. The day’s events came back to her. “Patrick?”
“Miss Hathaway…I mean….”
“Isabel is fine. What in heavens is wrong?”
“I need Jonathon. Peter is sick.”
“Sick?”
Patrick made a face of disgust. “He ate a lot of cake.”
The poor boys had little to eat on a good day, and the sweets must have been too much. “Have you checked his lordship’s room?”
“Yes, then I thought maybe he would be in here with you.”
“He isn’t.”
“Is everything okay?” His Grace asked.
“Peter is sick, and we are trying to locate Jonathon.”
Wolfe raised an eyebrow. “Direct me to Jacob’s room.”
“Why Jacob?” she couldn’t help but ask.
“Because he yearns for a position within the church, he won’t lie, not even for Jonathon.”
She grabbed her dressing gown and followed the duke up to the next floor. She had to take two steps to his every one, simply to keep up with him. The duke pounded on the door. “Jacob.”
The middle boy came out, rubbing his eyes. “Your Grace?”
“Where is your brother?” Foxhaven demanded.
“Which one?”
The duke turned and glared at young Patrick. “Is there more than one missing?”
Patrick shrugged then shook his head so violently she feared the boy would make himself sick as well.
Jacob gulped. “If Jonathon is not in the house, you might find him at the docks.”
“I need someone to see to Peter then you can go back to bed.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Jacob moved down the hall without a second look back.
“What is he doing on the dock?” Isabel asked, a bit hurt and more than confused why he would go out on his wedding night.
Wolfe paused for a second as if thinking. “My opinion, he is at a gaming hell, trying to make money.”
“What?”
“It’s how he survived for the last decade.” Wolfe’s nostrils flared as if the idea was distasteful.
“By gambling?”
Andrew appeared at the bottom of the stairs, half-dressed. “What the hell is going on?”
“Interested in checking out the local hells?” Wolfe asked in a lowered tone.
“Why would I…. Oh. Right, then…um, let me wake Simon.”
“I’m going with you.” No way were these men going hunting for her husband without her.
“Absolutely not.” Wolfe walked past her to descend to the lower floors.
“I’ll simply follow. I know the land and town better than the three of you.”
“Lord save me from strong-willed women.” He paused on the landing, turning to glare back at her. “Fine, but you will do exactly as I say.”
“I’m not stupid.”
He grunted. “Patrick, bring the countess some cloths, please.”
“What?” both Patrick and Isabel said on a gasp.
“If you think I’m going to let a gently bred woman go to the gaming hells as a lady, you have lost your minds. You will go as a boy. It will be safer that way.” He turned, mumbling something about women and something else about friends.
Twenty minutes later, they managed to sneak out without the other women waking. The men all explained that they had thoroughly worn their wives out.
Simon jumped out at the first stop and was back in the carriage moments later. “He isn’t in there, and they haven’t seen him in years.”
“Really?” Andrew rubbed at the stubble on his chin.
Three more places said the same thing. They were about to turn the carriage around when Andrew banged on the roof to stop. “Bloody hell. Found him.”
Andrew pointed to the wharf. She looked to where men were unloading items from merchant ships. Jonathon, Gabriel, and William, all wearing dark clothing with their heads covered, made their way back and forth, taking items off the boats and loading them onto waiting horse-drawn carts. No matter how they dressed, the three couldn’t hide their walk. Money or no, they held themselves as gentry. Simon jumped out and approached the foreman, careful to stay out of view of the brothers.
She continued to watch as her husband threw sack after sack over his shoulder and placed them on the waiting wagons. “What do you think they are hauling?”
“Hard to say unless we could get closer and I can see where the haul is coming in from. My guess is cotton.”
“Well, we know it’s not corn.” Andrew leaned back into the corner and closed his eyes. “Not since the ban has been in place anyway.”
“How can you go back to sleep now?” she demanded.
He opened one eye as he crossed his arms. “Easy. Close my eyes and let sleep take me. Besides, don’t you think my wife is capable of wearing me out as much as I did her?”
She blushed, and Wolfe laughed. “Andrew, you seem to have forgotten you are speaking to a lady.”
“Who is dressed as a man to explore the gaming hells. You will forget my slip of etiquette.”
The carriage tilted to the side as Simon c
limbed back in then the door closed and the carriage jarred forward. “We aren’t leaving, are we?”
“What do you plan to do? Watch him all night?” Andrew grumbled.
“I don’t know, but they should not be out here.”
“According to the foreman, Jonathon has been working the wharfs for over a decade. When not here, he was working the ones wherever he was.”
“Do they know who he is?”
“The foreman said he knew, but what did it matter? If a man was paying his debts and had a good back, he didn’t care it the shoulders belonged to the King of England himself.” Simon eased himself into the other corner to follow Andrew’s lead.
“There is no way William and Gabriel have been doing this very long.” Shock still ran through her at what she had seen. The gentry just didn’t work the docks; they didn’t do manual labor.
“They haven’t. They joined him shortly after their father died. My guess is that they followed their brother out here one night and gave Jonathon no choice but to help out, too.”
“How didn’t we know?” Simon asked as if trying to work through everything in his head.
“We all thought he was visiting the gaming hells in town,” Andrew muttered but didn’t open his eyes.
“How am I supposed to talk to him about this? Make him understand…?” she asked.
“You don’t,” all three men said in unison.
“But….”
Wolfe leaned forward and gripped the hands she hadn’t realized she was rubbing raw. “You must allow him his secrets. You must allow him to deal with the debts that are his to pay.”
“Gawd, woman, allow him his pride,” Andrew said on a yawn.
“But I have money.”
“Sometimes, a man needs to feel he is the master of his destiny.” Wolfe gripped tight before he released her hands. “I’ve wondered for a great many years how he managed to pay his bills. I would have heard had he been running up tabs all over London. But he wasn’t. He was paying his bills and still managing to send money home.”
“Not money so much as supplies,” Andrew said from his slumber.
“Supplies?”
“Food, medicine, clothing for his brothers,” Simon filled in. “If he sent money to the earl, the boys would still have gone without. So, he sent things to them once a month. They went into town and picked up packages from somewhere, but the earl never knew.”