Too Hot For A Rake

by Pearl Wolf

  “Come in, then. But not this…imposter,” she said, trying to maintain her advantage.

  Waverley stepped forward and flashed his most winning smile at the odious woman. He held out his hand to her—his signet ring staring her in the face. “Beg pardon, ma’am,” he began as if taking her into his confidence. “After my investiture by the Prince Regent, I set off for Waverley at once, for I was most anxious to meet my family. You and your son are Banningtons, I have been told. Therefore, ma’am, we are cousins. It should be obvious that rumors of my death were exaggerated. As you see, I am very much alive.”

  The ring glistened in the waning sunlight. “When news of my father’s death reached me, I returned to England at once to take possession of my estate and care for my grandmother.”

  “Ring is a fake, mayhap. Any jeweler might make a copy from one o’ them books.”

  “Good God! Do you think it a fake? The Regent will be distressed when he hears of this forgery.”

  Emboldened, Mrs. Trasker added, “That’s right. So I’ll need more proof you’re the marquis.”

  Waverley pretended to think on this bizarre request. “I suppose I might apply to Magistrate Wyndham. He was a close friend of my father’s. He’s known me all my life.” He reached into his vest pocket and drew out his watch. “At this time, the magistrate is likely to be enjoying his dinner with his family. I would hate to disturb him, especially since the result will be in my favor, I assure you.”

  The woman stuck out her chin in a final attempt at defiance, though her eyes signaled defeat. She glanced over the entire group. “Din’t ’spect so many of you. Rooms ain’t ready.”

  “We’ll make do,” said Waverley with more cheerfulness than he felt. In truth, his hands itched to strangle the woman. “Bring our baggage in, Rabu. Casper will assist you.” He turned to Mrs. Trasker and added, “I shall occupy my father’s quarters in the east wing, cousin. Would you be so kind as to escort Lady Fairchild to the chamber opposite my grandmother’s?”

  Amy cleared her throat to gain his lordship’s attention.

  “Yes? What is it, Amy?”

  “The men are hungry, milord.”

  “Thank you for reminding me, lass.” He turned to Casper and said, “The kitchen’s below stairs, just opposite the stables. After you unload our baggage, stable the horses and inform Cook of our arrival.”

  Not to be left out, Amy added, “Ask for Cook Wells. She’s my aunt and she knows we’re expected, ’cause I wrote to my mum. She’s told her, I’m sure. And don’t forget to remind her to prepare some supper for the marquis and her ladyship.”

  “Yes, lass.” Casper winked at her.

  “Stubble it, Casper,” Amy growled. She turned away to follow her mistress.

  But Helena stopped her. “Go along with Casper and Rabu and tell your aunt not to fuss over dinner for us. Something simple will do.”

  “But milady…”

  “Do as I say, dear,” Helena ordered.

  Upon entering the Great Hall, Waverley said at once, “I must make our arrival known to my grandmother. Will you excuse me?” Without waiting for answer, he took the stairs two at a time to the second floor where he knew he would find his grandmother’s chamber.

  Helena remained behind and took stock of her surroundings, astonished at what met her eyes. Dust motes floated in the air like soiled snowflakes. Her senses were assaulted by a stale odor so foul as to offend the heartiest soul. There were wilted flowers in the decorative bowl adorning a grimy table in the center of the hall. The floors felt like sand beneath her feet. It was obvious they hadn’t been swept in some time.

  She heard the voices of two under maids chatting idly to one another drifting from somewhere nearby. Had they nothing better to do than gossip to pass the time? A cold chill seeped into her bones and she shuddered, for there was no fire in the grate. Two armored statues white with dust stood sentinel on either side of the grand staircase, its banisters sadly in need of polish.

  Helena turned to face the woman who had tried so hard to prevent their entry. “Mrs. Trasker? I would be most indebted to you if you would lead me to my chamber.”

  “How long you gonna stay?”

  Helena ignored her belligerence. “I cannot say. A month? Two? Perhaps three.” She spoke casually, knowing her words would irritate. “Inform my abigail to join me as soon as she may. She can unpack my things while I rest. I’ll meet the dowager marchioness at dinner.”

  “Her ladyship doesn’t come down to dinner. She eats in her chamber and sleeps a lot, her bein’ sick and all.”

  Helena understood that she was engaged in battling a formidable enemy. Here was a challenge she was determined to win. “Then I have my work cut out for me, Mrs. Trasker. I mean to relieve you of the burden of caring for his lordship’s grandmother. The Duchess of Heatham, my mother, charged me with the task of seeing to her ladyship’s well-being. I hope that will relieve your mind.”

  “That chamber opposite her ladyship ain’t been used for years. You might be more comfortable if you stayed in Ship Inn. It’s in Sennen Cove, not far from here.”

  “That won’t be necessary. I’ll be fine here. There’s no need to trouble your servants, Mrs. Trasker. My abigail will put the chamber to rights.”

  “How is it you got a Cornish lass for your maid? I heard her accent.”

  Another battle, Helena thought grimly. Taller than her adversary, she drew herself up and glanced down at the woman in haughty disdain. It took but a moment for the woman to lower her eyes. “For your information, Amy Wells grew up in Sennen Cove. Her mother and her uncle are the owners of Ship Inn. I would be most welcome if I wanted to stay there, for their hospitality is well known. But I am here and here is where I shall stay. Do I make myself clear?”

  Trying for intelligence, Harry interrupted, “I knows the place. Been there a time or…” His mother’s icy stare silenced him at once.

  Helena stifled the wicked grin threatening to disarrange her lips. She ignored the son, turned to the mother and said, “Would you be so kind as to lead the way to my chamber, ma’am?”

  In a desperate effort to regain the upper hand, Mrs. Trasker invented what she hoped was a further obstacle to the unwanted invasion of what she had come to think of as her castle. “Coachman has to sleep over the stable. Your maid and milord’s valet sleep in the servants’ quarters in the attic.”

  Helena smiled indulgently, though it cost her. “That will suit us very well. Allow me to thank you for your cooperation, Mrs. Trasker. You’re too kind.” Helena strode to the grand staircase and waited, astonished at her unaccustomed audacity. Had her sarcasm found its mark? She couldn’t be sure.

  “This chamber ain’t fit for pigs!” exploded Amy when she joined her mistress.

  Helena put a finger to her lips and whispered, “Hush, Amy. Someone might be listening at our door. We can’t let on how we feel just yet. Let’s explore our surroundings first. What’s behind that door?”

  Amy opened the door. “It’s a sitting room, milady.”

  Helena opened another door on the opposite side of the room. “Here’s another chamber. It’s in worse condition than this room, but it’s large and it does have a bed. Would it do for you, do you think? Mrs. Trasker is threatening to house you in the attic with her other maids.”

  Amy peeked over her mistress’ shoulder. “Better here than in the attic with that lot! Seems like they don’t do a lick of work.” She began to open the large trunk.

  “Don’t unpack just yet. Help me get rid of the dust and the cobwebs first.”

  As they worked side by side, Helena chatted aloud, telling her how kind the Traskers were in their warm welcome to her. She whispered orders while Amy played along, delighted to be included in the game of deception.

  “Where shall I put these, milady?” she said in as loud a voice as she could manage. Then she added, “May I set your toiletries on this here er…dressing table?”

  They worked first in the bedchamber wiping g
rime and dust away with the worn sheets they had stripped from the bed. Helena had brought her own linens, the ones she had used at the various inns whose chambers she’d occupied. Amy would use only these to make up the bed for her mistress. They put the stale water in the pitcher to good use, cleaning the windows and mopping the floor. Helena helped Amy replace the mattress after they had beaten the dust out of it on the small balcony, its doors flung open to the fresh air.

  A knock on the door interrupted their work. Amy opened it to admit Lord Waverley, who put a finger to his lips. He entered the room, shut the door behind him and surveyed the scene.

  “Appalling! My father’s quarters are no better,” he said in a whisper. In a louder voice he asked, “Care to join me for a stroll in the garden, ma’am? I expect you need a long walk after being confined in a coach for so long.”

  “I’d be delighted.”

  Amy shooed them out, her head bobbing in approval for once. They descended the grand staircase as if in no particular hurry. The marquis knew his way well. He led her into the library and through the doors that opened onto the terrace. They strolled down the steps into the garden, stopping only when they were well out of earshot.

  “What a shock it must be to you to find Waverley Castle in such a poor state.”

  He grasped her arms, a look of despair on his face. “That’s the least of my worries.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “My grandmother is running a high fever. I fear for her life.”

  “It may well be influenza. Who is taking care of her? Does she have a nurse?”

  “I saw no signs of one. She’s living in squalor. My own grandmother! Her gown is stained with food, her sheets are soiled and the chamber itself hasn’t been cleaned in an age. I left Rabu to clean up and stand guard over her while I decide what’s to be done.”

  Helena said, “That was wise. You must send Casper and Amy to Sennen Cove at once.”

  “What can they do?”

  “Amy’s mother and her uncle own Ship Inn. They will know of a reliable physician. You must write a note describing your grandmother’s condition and add your calling card. A local doctor will come at once. Request a nurse as well. I’ll fetch Amy and tell her what needs to be done. When you’ve written your letter, bring it round to the front door. By then, the coach will be waiting.” Helena paused and whipped her head around.

  “What is it?”

  “I thought I heard a noise. Someone may be listening.”

  Waverley’s eyes searched. “No one’s here. May have been a rabbit or some other animal.”

  Hidden behind a clump of trees, Harry Trasker stood frozen in place until Helena and Waverley were well out of sight. Then he hurried to his mother’s chambers. “Game’s up, Ma. Better hightail it out o’ here ’afore that swell puts the magistrate on us.”

  “Keep your tongue between your teeth, Harry. The marquis can’t do a thing to us. We got rights. We’re Banningtons, ain’t we? ’Sides, he won’t raise a fuss. Swells like him are always be worritin’ about what other swells think of ’em. We ain’t done yet, m’boy. Not by a long shot,” said Mrs. Trasker. She took another swig of gin from the bottle in her hand. “Best you get word to My Lord. He’ll tell us what we need do.”

  Her son beamed at her. “Yer a right one, Ma. Allus has an answer. What d’ya want me to tell My Lord?”

  “Nothing. I’ll write a letter for you to deliver to him.”

  The marquis led Helena into the kitchen once Casper and Amy had departed for Sennen Cove. Cook Wells looked up in annoyance at the interruption, but the look on her face turned to joy when she recognized the marquis. “Milord! Welcome home. Let me have a look at you. A mite taller, but still devilish handsome as ever.” Cook Wells wiped her hands on her apron and curtseyed, her green eyes alive with gladness. “D’ye recollec’ me, milord? Course, I was only a scullery maid when you was a lad.”

  Desmond lifted her flour-stained hand to his lips. “Of course I do. How could I forget the pretty lass who used to sneak warm cookies out of the pastry room for me? This is Lady Fairchild. She’s visiting.”

  “Pleased to meet you, milady.”

  “She’s come to visit my grandmother. I don’t mind telling you that I’m worried about her. I’ve sent Amy to town for the doctor.”

  “That’s good, milord! Mrs. Trasker wouldn’t let me fetch him when I begged her. I’ve been in such a worry ever since them Traskers came here six months after the old marquis passed, may his soul rest in peace. Milady felt fine then, though a bit t’other side of memory, if you take my meaning. Here her la’ship took ’em in from the kindness of her heart and look how they repay her.”

  Waverley won Cook’s heart when he said, “How good of you to remain in her service. She might have fared worse if you had left her.” She blushed at the compliment.

  While they spoke, Helena surveyed the large, immaculate kitchen, the only part of the castle she had seen that was in decent order. She was near to fainting from hunger, for it was late. “What smells so delicious, Cook?” she asked, interrupting them.

  Waverley grinned, for he was famished as well. “Well, Cook? Will you take pity on two starving souls?”

  Cook Wells grinned. “Seems like old times, milord. I recollec’ you was always hungry as a lad. Still the same, eh?” She indicated the large table where the servants took their meals. “Wish I could serve you in the dining room, but it an’t fit for a pig, thanks to the Traskers. Sit you both down at the servants’ table and I’ll fetch you some fresh-baked bread and home-churned butter. That’ll set you to rights while I prepare you a proper dinner.”

  Cook proceeded to serve them a fragrant creamed mushroom soup, some cold meat, piping hot tea and warm apple pie topped with a slice of cheddar cheese. Waverley asked for second helpings, to Cook’s delight. He was amused to see Helena, usually a picky eater, devouring her food with zest. When she had finished her last bit of pie, she groaned in contentment, to the delight of both Cook and the marquis.

  “I’ve never seen you eat so much, ma’am,” said Waverley, his eyes teasing.

  “Does my heart good to see you both enjoy my vittles. Later, I’ll serve you both some…”

  Helena and the marquis laughed, for they were full to bursting. “No, no, Cook. Don’t trouble yourself. I can’t swallow another morsel tonight,” Helena said kindly.

  “Speak for yourself, ma’am. I, for one…”

  “Now don’t be scoldin’ the lady, milord. I won’t starve you whatever the time, to be sure.”

  Waverley’s laughing face turned serious. “Where are all the servants? My father always kept a large staff.”

  “The Traskers sacked most of them and hired on the worst bunch of lazy scoundrels I ever did see. They like to eat well, so they agreed to keep my two nieces to help me in the kitchen when I threatened to give notice, which I assure you, but for my dear marchioness, I was sore tempted to do. Mrs. Trasker set herself up as housekeeper and that tub o’ lard Harry as bailiff. There are just a few lazy new hires that are supposed to do all the work. They do nothin’ at all. Won’t take orders from anyone but them Traskers.” She shook her head in disgust.

  “What about my grandmother? Has she no say in the matter?”

  “She’s forgetful, poor soul. Mayhap they convinced her it was her own idea. If those two had their way, she’d be dead. I prepare food for her every day and sneak it up to her, ’cause they won’t let Emma or Trudy serve her.” She hesitated.

  “Something else on your mind? You can speak freely, Cook,” urged Waverley.

  “They didn’t expect your return, milord. They set it about that you was dead. Drowned at sea, they said. Truth be known, I thought so, too. That Mrs. Trasker’s always braggin’ how her son Harry’s the next marquis. Where have you been all these years, if you don’t mind my askin’, milord?”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m back now, and I shan’t leave again, I promise you that.”

  Helena asked, “Are there no
gardeners, Cook? The grounds have been terribly neglected.”

  “Them Traskers fired the lot of ’em. Saving the dowager money, they claim. Pocketing her blunt for themselves, more like. There’s lots of grumbling from the tenants who farm your land, let me tell you. Trasker collects the rents, promises ’em repairs, then don’t make ’em like he should. The stable’s a mess too, milord. There are only two stable boys, the laziest, meanest do-nothings I ever did see.”

  “Rest assured I mean to set things right,” Waverley said. He glanced at Helena, who was having trouble keeping her eyes open. “But for this evening, Lady Fairchild must have a hot bath and a decent night’s sleep. We’ll sort out what’s to be done in the morning.”

  At once, Cook rang a bell and two young maids appeared, both dressed in immaculate uniforms. “Fetch some hot water and clean cloths for my lady’s bath. She’s in the chamber opposite her ladyship.” She turned to Helena and Waverley and added, “This is Emma and this is Trudy, my sister’s daughters.”

  “The Traskers may have some sense after all. They love your cooking as much as we do,” Waverley said. The twinkle in his eyes brought an appreciative laugh from Cook.

  “Stuff it, Casper! I’ve had enough of your smart mouth!”

  “Come now, Amy lass. What’s wrong with a fine lad like me escortin’ a lovely miss into the village? They’ll be talkin’ for days about you havin’ snared the handsomest London coachman they ever did see.”

  “You? Handsome? Don’t make me laugh. Your ugly face couldn’t catch an old blind woman.”

  “Don’t want any old blind woman. Just you, lass. Just you.”

  Amy was keen on having the last word. “Without me you wouldn’t find your way around these parts.”

  “I can find my way anywhere, my girl. Besides, you need a strong man like me to protect you. Wouldn’t be proper to let you wander about alone.”

  “I’m not alone here. This is my home.”