“Jed Hamm, if you are here to argue again, I will not have it!” she said, bursting through the door, stopping short. “I beg your pardon. You are not Squire Hamm.”
Aunt Jane snorted in a most unladylike fashion. She was an octogenarian who found it convenient to pretend she had a few screws loose in order to say what she liked. She was a dear.
“I have not had the pleasure, no,” a deep, seductive voice said from above. She craned her neck to look upwards at least a foot, into a handsome face with blue eyes and blond hair. Delicious indeed.
“My name is Bergen, my lady; at your service.” He made an elegant leg, as Aunt Jane would say, and Elizabeth did her best not to stare at his finely shaped calves and thighs, which were in complete contrast to the spindly limbs borne by the Squire. She shook her head.
“I am Elizabeth Newton. How may I be of service?” As beautiful as this man was, she had no time for silly dreams. By the look of him, the man was a London dandy and was, in all likelihood, very aware of his charms.
“I happened upon a stray animal, and I was told you were just the person to see.”
She could feel her brow knit together. Who had been speaking to the stranger about her?
“If I have offended you, I beg your pardon.” He reached up and made to wipe away a speck of dirt before pulling his hand back.
Elizabeth flushed at his forwardness. She did recall from her days in London that the men were flirtatious. What a country bumpkin he must think her, but there was something seductive in his touch which made her feel heat in places that Horace never had.
“Was I misinformed?
Elizabeth cleared her throat. “No, I do have a tendency to acquire helpless creatures.”
“Excellent. Then may I show you what I have found?”
“Of course.” Elizabeth indicated for him to lead the way while she glanced at Aunt Jane, who was beaming and making hand signals behind his back. Elizabeth cast a warning look for her aunt to behave before turning back to Mr. Bergen. Or was it, Lord Bergen? He must be a lord! She would have to mind him closely. He would not be the first to think her widowed status meant she was free with her favours.
He waited for her to pass through the door through the kitchens, stopping by the larder to retrieve an apple, before following her down the steps into the sunshine.
“Over here,” he said as he held out his hand towards a beech tree to the side of the drive.
“A donkey? You found a stray donkey?” she asked in disbelief as she surveyed the dwarfed and odd-looking specimen. A small grey donkey stood in front of her. He had larger ears than she had seen on donkeys and blue eyes. One eye appeared crossed.
“Well, not precisely. He was abandoned by some gypsies at the inn where I was staying. I overheard them speak of leaving him.”
She folded her arms and looked at him sceptically. “The circus troupe? They are more wont to take than to leave anything behind.”
“They think he is cursed…” Bergen held out his hands. “…which is nonsense, of course.”
“How delightful,” she said dryly, even though she could use a donkey. They were known to be excellent protectors of herds, and a fox had killed a lamb recently.
“Does he have a name?”
Lord Bergen hesitated. “Clarence.”
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “Did you say, ‘Clarence’?”
He held up his hands in defence. “He looks like a Clarence.”
Elizabeth stepped closer and the donkey bared his teeth at her. She jumped back. “Oh!”
“He will not hurt you,” Bergen reassured her, stepping forward and scratching behind the donkey’s ears. “I think he might be smiling at you.”
Elizabeth looked at him uncertainly, but stepped forward again and since the donkey was distracted with Lord Bergen, she patted the mealy coloured nose. Clarence showed his teeth again.
“I do think you are correct. He does appear to be smiling. How peculiar!”
“Everything about him is peculiar. No offence intended, Clarence,” he said to the animal. “But he does seem to be good-natured.”
“A characteristic ne’er visited upon any other donkey I have ever met,” Elizabeth retorted. “He is quite small, but that should not matter if I do not harness him to a cart. Where did you say you found him?”
“Tied to a mulberry bush near the inn I was staying at.”
“You poor dear,” Elizabeth said as she took a piece of apple she had in her pocket and fed it to him.
“He is yours now, whether you want him or not,” Bergen said with a laugh. “I fed him an apple and he has followed me since.”
“That will surprise no one. I am in the habit of adopting strays.”
“Why do you, if you do not mind me asking?”
She waved a hand. “I can, so I do. The poor creatures cannot help their sad circumstances.”
“How many poor creatures do you have, precisely?”
She wrinkled her brow and tapped her cheek with an index finger. “Let me see… Sheep, cows, horses, chickens, goats, pigs, five—no, six—dogs and ten cats, I think.” She threw up her hands. “I have no idea!”
“It sounds no more unusual than any farm,” he said, unconvinced.
“Yes, but they are not all, well…well…and then there are the children.”
“May I enquire how many children you have?” he asked politely.
“Only three of those, but they…” Clarence made the most horrific gaseous sound, interrupting her answer. Although she could not keep her eyes from widening in dismay, it was too funny to contain her laughter.
Chapter 2
“Lizzie! It is so very cold outside. Do invite this young gentleman in and let him get warm. After all, he did bring you a gift.” The older woman did not wait for agreement. “Come in, sir.” She stepped back and waved Bergen into the entrance hall. Turning to Lady Newton, she whispered, none-too-quietly, “Yes, indeed, Elizabeth…he is a very fine young gentleman.” She slowly emphasized her words.
Bergen had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing aloud at the woman’s candid appraisal. Lady Newton’s face turned a beautiful shade of pink at the woman’s comment and she turned away for a moment. He glanced at the thin wiry woman that stood beside her. Her once long dark hair was now white and pulled tight away from her face in some sort of bun that he could not see. Her well-lined face spoke years of laughter and life, and her faded blue eyes sparkled with mischief. Based on the smile that seemed to emanate behind her eyes, he sensed she delighted in poking society in the nose with her candour.
“Yes, my lord.” Turning again to face him, Lady Newton gave a welcoming smile. “Please come in. May I offer you some tea? Aunt Jane is quite right, the wind is truly frigid when one stands still. We can finish our discussion inside. Please, join us and warm yourself.” She stepped back, allowing him to enter.
Well, this is getting more pleasing by the moment, Bergen thought. It was cold, but he was finding himself more and more enchanted by the petite buxom blonde as each minute passed. Getting to know Lady Newton suddenly seemed more important than even warming himself by the fireplace.
Lady Newton’s blue-green eyes held his for a moment—probably longer than was acceptable, but he could not help it. Despite her aunt’s uproarious verbal exchanges, she had managed to maintain absolute composure. He could not remember when he had found himself so attracted to a woman in so short a time.
Aunt Jane was very diverting, and Lady Newton’s seriousness seemed the perfect contrast for her eccentric aunt—their exchanges alone were worth the trip here. He thought of his own Aunt Faith and chuckled to himself—the two aunts could have been sisters, if he had not known better. Both were peevish octogenarians, and recalling his own aunt’s words, not trusting of ‘modern namby-pamby ways.’ Thinking of his own relative recalled to his mind the reason for his journey. Bergen needed to get back on the road to London. Aunt Faith would be looking for him…but maybe there was no immediate cause for has
te.
Bergen accepted the offer. “Tea would be most welcome. It is rather chilly out here.” Upon entering the narrow hall, he paused by an old walnut table and removed his greatcoat, gloves and hat—the coat and hat Lady Newton hung upon a hook on the wall. The gloves she laid on the table. Curious, he looked around; there seemed to be no servants…
The two ladies led him to a blue and white parlour, just off the entrance hall. A dark pianoforte sat in front of a brightly lit picture window, framed by white lace curtains. Aunt Jane took a seat on a comfortable-looking light blue velvet couch which was nestled against the back wall. It perfectly matched the light blue and white toile wall covering. A silver tea service with blue and white patterned teacups sat ready on a side-table. He noticed the daisies and figured them a favourite flower of Lady Newton.
“Thank you for the invitation…Aunt Jane. May I call you Aunt Jane?”
“Certainly, my dear.” Turning to her niece, she whispered loudly, “Lizzie, do try to be conciliating. This is as much for me as for you.” She continued, “We do not get many delightful-looking gentlemen visiting these days, you know. My niece may be too prudish to show any interest, but I should like to feast these old eyes for a while!” She patted the cushion nearest to her. “Here…sit beside me, young man. I cannot abide these modern milk-and-water manners.”
“Aunt Jane!” Lady Newton hastily took the seat next to her aunt. “Lord Bergen, I think you might be comfortable in this chair.” She pointed to a high-backed chair adjacent to the couch.
“Ah, thank you.” Bergen cleared his throat. He wanted to become acquainted with her, but she was being tormented by the aunt. Still, he ventured to ask, “Will Clarence be the first donkey to join the other inhabitants of the farm, do you think?”
“I do believe so.” Lady Newton smiled. “I have noticed he is a very personable little fellow—one with uncanny timing too.” At that remark, they both laughed.
He appreciated the way her dimples framed the corners of her mouth when she smiled.
This is a pleasant distraction; certainly better than the lonesome ride to London I had planned to make today.
“I believe you said the animals you keep are not all well? How do you care for them?” he asked.
“I have some help with the animals. The children do quite a bit, but mostly I care for them myself. I enjoy it.” Her voice had suddenly become animated. Obviously, this was something the lady truly revelled in doing.
“I would be very interested in seeing how Clarence takes to them all. I can imagine a singing donkey could be very useful, no offence to our absent Clarence,” he lightly teased, suddenly glad to have met the donkey. How else would I have found myself in such delightful company? Aunt Faith will have to wait. Surely, she can spare me a day here.
“My lord, we take all animals—big, small, with one ear or both,” quipped Aunt Jane, suddenly fanning her face with what seemed an exaggerated look of exasperation. “My niece has a big heart and cannot turn down an animal that seems lost or down on its luck.”
Lady Newton shot her aunt a critical look. “What Aunt Jane means, sir, is that we have taken in many injured animals, and a couple of them were missing an ear or a maybe a leg. Nevertheless, those we could heal, have adapted. They live here. I love helping the animals…and once here, they stay. This is their home.”
“Humph! By best accounts, we have a menagerie out here—the only creature we do not have is a man.” Aunt Jane slapped her knee and began to laugh at her own quip, while her niece blushed a deep shade of red.
“Aunt Jane! Really!” Lady Newton paused and took a deep breath. “I think every animal deserves a chance.” She turned and whispered loudly to her aunt. “Please behave.”
Wearing a mischievous smile, Aunt Jane seemed unscathed by the light admonishment and persisted. “You deserve a chance, too, my Lizzie.”
“Aunt Jane…please. Lord Bergen does not wish to hear such…nonsense.” She turned to Bergen while holding the sugar tongs. “Do you care to allow me to sweeten it for you, my lord?”
He grinned. This was the best morning he had had in a while. Who knew a donkey could be responsible for such joy? “Yes, please.” His journey to London would unquestionably wait a day more.
Bergen nodded at the pianoforte by the window. “Do you play, Lady Newton?”
“She is excellent at the pianoforte…and has a lovely voice,” her aunt remarked, clearly proud of her niece’s talent.
Lizzie—Lady Newton—seemed a little too silent to him.
Feeling a palpable tension in the air, Bergen decided, with regret, it was time to go. He could only imagine the conversation these two would have once he had left.
He realized he had not bothered to ask Perry what Smitty had found with Merry’s shoes before he himself had left the inn this morning. How lame he had been! Probably it was due to his lack of sleep from the nocturnal spying he had done by his window. He had gone to bed without food, for goodness’ sake. And this morning, he had been so anxious to get underway to London after sating his hunger, he had completely forgotten to inquire. He would return to the inn and ask, as well as secure a room for another night.
“Ladies, I am afraid I must quit this delightful visit and return to town. I have a few matters to take care of before riding on to London.”
He had hoped for more occasion to foster an acquaintance with this enticing young woman and decided to further his cause another way. Maybe an opportunity to spend time with her would show itself.
“Lady Newton—” He paused and took a breath before continuing, “If you are amenable, I should like to contribute towards Clarence’s keep.” He hoped he was giving her proper address. There was no way to know with the little information he had gleaned. Although he seemed to remember—now he came to think of it—Perry had so designated her, it could have been mere courtesy. She could be a lady. Yet he did not recognize the name, Newton, as that of a peer.
“Nonsense, I would not dream of it, sir.” Elizabeth set down her spoon. “`The animals give me so much pleasure—they always give more to us than we do to them.”
And she was not giving him any more information.
“Dinner!” Aunt Jane proclaimed suddenly. ”You must join us for dinner tonight, sir. I insist upon it.” Bergen bit his lip to hold back a grin. They were certainly an entertaining pair, and his appreciation for Aunt Jane was growing. He would like nothing better than to spend time with this blonde beauty and become better acquainted. Having already realized he wanted more time with Lady Newton, Bergen gave the pretence of deliberation before answering. Turning to her, he responded, “I should love to join you, ma’am, but may I ask if you would be so kind as to provide us with a song or two after dinner?”
“Well, I… Very well, if you wish. I do hope you will not be disappointed. Aunt Jane is somewhat prone to exaggeration.” Another sweet, pink blush coloured her face.
I have an invitation to dinner! He wanted to sing, himself, so pleased he was!
“Dinner is at six.” Lady Newton nodded, suddenly seeming shy.
“Then I will be on my way, ladies.” Bergen bowed to Aunt Jane as her niece rose to her feet. “I appreciate your hospitality and your willingness to give Clarence a home, Lady Newton. He will be very happy here.”
“He will be a welcome addition, I assure you.”
Together they retraced their steps to the entrance hall, where a tall aging butler he had not seen previously handed him his greatcoat and hat and opened the door for him.
“I will look forward to dinner with you and your family this evening.”
“I do hope we are not delaying you from important business. I fear a quiet country dinner is not what you are accustomed to.”
Lady Newton seemed to relax at his leaving. Perhaps it was because she would be getting a slight break from her aunt’s antics. He grinned at the thought. “I am sure it will be everything which is delightful, ma’am.”
“Goodbye, Lord Bergen. I will
go at once to introduce Clarence to his new friends.”
Bowing once more, he regained the road, gathering the reins from the garden fence he had gently looped it around and mounted his horse. A long, woeful bray made him turn around in time to see Clarence running from the side of the house towards him.
“Whoa there, Merry, my girl,” he said, stroking her brown neck. It seemed that Merry was not one of Clarence’s supporters. “Clarence, your home is here, now.” He slid from his horse again and patted the errant donkey.
“Eeeeoorre.” The frantic donkey shook his head wildly back and forth and tried to grab Bergen’s greatcoat with his teeth. “Eeeeoorre.”
“Is he refusing? Is that no…from a donkey?” Bergen asked, filled with mirth.
“Oh, dear.” Lady Newton quickly followed and gently tugged on the loose piece of rope still hanging from the donkey’s collar. “Clarence…Lord Bergen plans to return this evening to give a proper goodbye. We want you to stay. You will have many friends here.”
Bergen studied her manner as she spoke to the animal and marvelled that the donkey immediately became still. Could Clarence understand what was being said? That is just fustian nonsense. A donkey does not understand words. Lady Newton pulled Clarence close to her leg and softly rubbed his head, soothing him.
“You have a way with animals, Lady Newton. I am astonished at the way you are able to communicate with him.” He nodded a silent thank you. “I shall see you fine ladies this evening. You too, Clarence,” he added soothingly.
Leaving through the ornate iron entrance gate, he turned Merry towards town with a whistle on his lips. He was sure Perry could give him some information. The boy seemed to know a great deal about a lot of things beyond his sphere.
As Bergen neared the turn in the road where he had found Clarence, he saw something large dart into the bushes. From the shape, it looked like a man, but he could not be sure. He slowed Merry down and felt for his small silver pistol in his coat pocket. Surely, he would not have to deal with a highwayman after such a glorious morning. As he passed the mulberry bush, he heard voices yet saw no further movement. A male and female were arguing, but he could not make out the words. The tones did seem familiar…not unlike the voices he had heard the night before outside his window. Not looking for trouble, he nudged Merry on. There was no sign of the gypsy tribe. How curious that they were where I found Clarence, he mused. Instinct warned him that something was not right. He would also have to ask Perry about the gypsy troupe.
Earl of Bergen: Wicked Regency Romace (Wicked Earls' Club Book 15) Page 2