“I cannot think such would be easily done,” he answered, attempting to sound unconcerned.
His mother had not received Georgiana’s letter. Whatever miracle had occurred on that account, Adam promised to offer a prayer of gratitude for it later.
Prayer. Uncle Peter had always encouraged Adam to pray, even though Adam saw little point in the practice and said so. His uncle had never once given up on trying to teach Adam, trying to show him, the way to lead a happier, more grateful life.
If only Adam had not abandoned his great-uncle when Aunt Gillensford passed away, and the cheer went out of the widower’s soul. Not because of Adam’s inheritance. No, he did not deserve the home and lands his uncle worked hard to procure. Adam regretted leaving his uncle alone in sorrow in order to pursue his own selfish comforts.
At that moment, his mother’s fat little pug stuck its snubbed nose out from under her couch and started sniffing the air. “Oh, sweet dog, there you are.” She bestirred herself enough to gather the lazy animal into her arms.
The dog distracted Mother long enough for Adam to regain his hold on the cold, civil indifference most likely to appease his mother. “How was the rest of the Season, Mother? I did not hear news of a conquest. Is Philippa yet unattached?”
“That girl will never marry, given her ridiculous standards.” Mother sniffed most disdainfully. “She could have had an earl, an Italian count, or even the grandson of a duke if she had listened to me. But no, Philippa must have her own way. I may not give her another Season if she continues about in this most ungrateful manner.”
The amount of railing his mother did against his sister eased Adam’s mind. Philippa had not allowed anyone to force her into a match, which meant she remained free a little longer. His sister had taken to reading novels at a young age, and poetry. Though Adam had never directly asked, he suspected that she held herself in trust for a love match.
For nearly a quarter of an hour, Mother spoke of the Season. She went on about everyone she had seen, all that they had done, and the scandals she had learned of through whispers in the corners of ballrooms. She hardly required a word from Adam, except for him to agree with her harsh criticisms or to express surprise every now and again.
Mother had just begun to tell him of a scandal involving the Regent himself when the door opened again and Philippa entered, dressed in a gown the color of daffodils and as fresh in appearance as a spring morning.
“Adam, you are home.” She came with open arms and he hurried to stand and return her embrace. “I am delighted you are here still. You are usually gone by the time we return from London.”
“I do have pressing business near at hand,” Adam reminded her, tempering his response even though seeing his sister cheered him. “I am here for a year, if Miss Chapple expresses need of me that long.”
“That woman.” Mother tossed her head, disdain in her eyes. “Do you think she will insist you fulfill the whole of that time? Your whole life waiting to dance attendance for a year upon her needs?”
Philippa raised her eyebrows, as though seconding her mother’s question.
“I do not know.” Though he certainly hoped Elaine saw no need to dismiss him in the foreseeable future. Being at the ready to help her had given him purpose. For once in his life, he had purpose, and someone who appreciated what he did. It was somewhat exhilarating to do something of value rather than idle away his days.
Those thoughts nearly surprised him. When had he come to feel that way?
Philippa took her seat upon a padded stool near her mother, so she could reach out and rub the pug’s little ears. “I cannot wait to meet her.”
Adam started. “You what?”
“I wish to meet her. As soon as possible. I would love to know exactly why our great-uncle thought to leave his fortune to someone we do not know.” Philippa’s smile, genuine and innocent, sent him into something of a panic.
Adam thought of a way he might delay the meeting at least a week. “There is to be a ball, Friday next. At the Carringtons’ home. They are celebrating their eldest daughter’s engagement.” If Philippa and his mother knew they would see Elaine there, they might not be in a hurry to pay a formal visit.
“Pity we are not celebrating something similar,” his mother said icily, casting a dark look in her daughter’s direction.
Philippa did not bat an eye. “I did hear of that. I must hope we receive an invitation as soon as the neighborhood knows we are home. Did they invite Miss Chapple?”
The dowager countess shifted, glaring at nothing in particular. “Why would they? She is a nobody. A nothing. A seamstress.”
“Actually, Miss Chapple will be in attendance.” Perhaps in such a public setting her reaction to the youth of the “upstart” would be somewhat tempered. His mother hated surprises, of any sort, so nothing good would come of that moment.
“Lovely.” Philippa tipped her head to the side, regarding Adam in an all-too-knowing manner. “You must tell me more about her so when we are introduced I will know exactly how to put her at ease.”
Mother made a most unpleasant sound. “Dinner is in an hour. I need to dress. As do both of you.” She rose from the couch, pushing her little dog from her lap to the floor at the same time. “I do not wish to be kept waiting. It has been a long and trying day of travel.”
Adam stood swiftly to bow her out. “Yes, Mother.”
“We will be down on time, Mother.” Philippa made no motion to rise, which earned her another glare before their mother took herself out the door.
The moment the door closed, Adam fell back into his chair. He shuddered. “I am in a great deal of trouble, Pippa.” His mother had outlawed the pet name for Philippa years before, but Adam never failed to use it when no one but his sister might hear.
A somewhat rueful look came into her expression as she leaned forward, resting her chin in her palm. “I thought I detected something amiss in your behavior. Especially whenever there was mention of the seamstress. What is wrong, Adam?”
“I take it you and mother did not receive Georgiana’s letter?” When his sister shook her head, confirming his suspicions, Adam did not know whether to rejoice or despair. “There is something you need to know about Miss Chapple.” If he had convinced Elaine to leave the country, things might have been easier. “Do you remember how we all thought she most likely was some old maid, foolish and uneducated?”
“Not all of us thought those things,” she said with a little smile.
“Not all of us are as good as you.” Adam moved to the edge of his chair, the seriousness of the situation undampened by his sister’s good spirits. “Pippa, Miss Elaine Chapple is not more than six and twenty.”
“Oh, dear.” Philippa closed her eyes tightly a moment, though she betrayed only farcical horror. Then she opened one eye to peer at him, almost suspiciously. “Has she the audacity to be pretty, too?”
Adam gaped at his sister. That was her first question? Why did Elaine’s appearance matter?
Philippa’s grin turned in to a giggle. “She must be. Your face tells me the entire story. You think Miss Chapple is lovely to look upon.”
He stood, his earlier panic nothing to what he felt with his sister’s exposing comment. “I said nothing of the kind.”
Bestowing no pity upon him, Philippa pressed the matter. “Forgive me for misunderstanding. She must be a horribly ugly spinster, the years of her toil aging her most dreadfully.”
“She is nothing of the kind.” Adam pressed his lips together and attempted to glare down at the young woman still giggling. “I need you to stop this nonsense and be serious a moment. Miss Chapple is the best woman of my acquaintance, and she is in need of your assistance as much as she needs mine.”
That had a somewhat sobering affect upon his sister. “The best, you say? I find that a fascinating remark. Though I admit, I am most relieved you are intent upon being of service to her. I rather worried you would not treat her gently. How did she win you over?” Her sm
ile crept slowly into position. “By her charming beauty?”
What did one say to such an assault from a favored sister? Obviously, Philippa would not drop the matter, and he needed her to agree to his scheme. If the only way to obtain that agreement was through feeding her curiosity, he would do it.
“Miss Chapple’s unwavering goodness won my admiration, though she hardly needs it. I have never met a woman kinder, more thoughtful of others, than her.” Philippa opened her mouth again, eyes full of mischief, so he rushed on before she continued her teasing. “And yes, she is pretty. I cannot begin to tell you how often I have admired her beauty. But there is more to her than her appearance. She is without a doubt the most compassionate and genuine woman of my acquaintance.”
Adam shoved a hand through his hair and paced away from his sister. “She deserves our respect and all the help we can give her in obtaining the good opinion of the neighborhood. You know our family will not want either of those things for her.”
Adam’s words tripped over themselves, his frustration having built into something of a fever. “Mother and Richard will do anything they can to make her life miserable, especially when they meet her. They will be jealous of what she has inherited and angry that others find her worthy of her new position.”
That finally broke through Philippa’s cheery demeanor. “They are rather spiteful. Amelia will do whatever Mother tells her to do, too.”
Adam nodded his agreement. “Georgiana met Miss Chapple a week ago. She implied she would write to Mother of the situation at once.”
“Perhaps she did, but we have not been in London for a fortnight. Mother took me to a house party in Dartford. Then we visited with her sister in Chelmsford. Mother had to tell our aunt all the gossip of London.” Philippa appeared to consider the situation for a moment. “It seems you had a bit of luck there, dearest brother.”
“Luck. It can only hold for so long.” He stared down into his sister’s intelligent eyes, knowing she saw more than he wished for her to see. “Will you help us, Pippa?”
She appeared to consider the request. “You know I must meet her for myself before I can give you my help. I will call upon Miss Chapple tomorrow, if you will remain home to distract Mother.”
Though the price was steep, Adam quickly agreed. Once Philippa met Elaine, his sister would be a great asset in his work to establish Elaine favorably in the neighborhood. They parted ways to prepare for dinner, Adam’s mind shifting to a new concern.
Of all his family, Philippa was the only one whose opinion mattered anymore. The others were shallow, arrogant, and too absorbed in their own importance to even show genuine interest in his doings. Philippa, however, never failed to listen to him. In his desire to avoid the others, he had seen less and less of his favored sister. Yet he knew she would help Elaine. Unlike him, Philippa had never allowed their family’s bitter outlook to defeat her optimism.
The only thing more important than Philippa assisting Elaine was Philippa liking Elaine. Because Adam had grown more than fond of the former seamstress. Much more. Each day that passed, each time Adam laid eyes upon Elaine and saw her smile, he forfeited more loyalty to her. More than loyalty, if he was honest with himself.
Elaine had long since begun claiming pieces of his heart.
* * *
The daily habit of visiting with the children in the nursery had become one of Elaine’s favorite things. For the first time in their lives, they could take their leisure together in the morning and discuss the day ahead in terms of hopes and wishes rather than their previous reality of work and errands.
“I want to go see George tomorrow,” William announced, speaking of one of his newly acquired friends. “Miss Mallet said I could write a note today to inquire if that would be all right.”
Elaine glanced at the governess, who quietly read a book near the window. The woman gave a barely perceptible nod.
“That sounds like a fine idea. Let me know the outcome so I can take you myself. I would not mind speaking to his parents before leaving you to enjoy yourself.”
Friends were precisely what the boy needed. He had been so unhappy about their change of life at first, as uncertain as he was of what it meant for his future. One could hardly be an apprentice tailor when there was no master, or even a seamstress, to teach the trade.
Nancy had Tabby on her lap, stroking the fat cat. “Did you know we let Tabby out into the gardens all by himself yesterday?” She sounded rather like a proud mother. “He came back to the nursery window when he wanted in again.” She pointed to the large window that stood open. Though the nursery was on the second floor, there were certainly plenty of ways for a cat to get himself up and down.
“I am glad he settled in. I began to fear he would grow bored when you only let him out on a lead.” Nancy had found it entertaining to watch the cat try to escape the leash that the stable master had fashioned for him. Tabby and the children had wrestled for days in an attempt to get the cat used to the outside.
“He is the cleverest of cats,” Nancy affirmed with a sharp nod. “And he likes it here as much as I do.”
After reviewing their lessons, Elaine took herself off to see to the business of balancing her account with the steward. No matter how often Adam and Mr. Yates assured her the finances were secure, she needed to be certain a new expenditure would not throw everything out of order.
Having Adam tell her again that all was right would put her mind at ease.
Hearing his opinion on her newest dress had also become essential. She had finally completed a third new gown, suitable for mornings at home while the previous two were more for church and social visits. He had pronounced the other gowns lovely when he saw them. Though Elaine had never questioned her skills in designing and creating clothing for other people, wearing something of her own was a touch more unnerving.
Mrs. Fowler had finished with most of the children’s clothing, thankfully, and it was the Orford seamstress who would create Elaine’s first ball gown. The luxury of wearing clothing sewn by another hand still gave her a quiet thrill.
Elaine knocked on the door to the steward’s office before entering, her eyes going immediately to the desk that had been brought in for Adam’s use. It was empty. The top of it, practically bare. Her gaze slid to the steward’s desk.
“Miss Chapple.” He stood and bowed. “Good morning. How might I be of service today?”
“Good morning, Mr. Yates.” She did not glance at Adam’s desk again in an attempt to cover her disappointment. “I am only come to make certain all is in order for William’s tutors. Have we received any letters from hopeful candidates yet?”
The steward lowered his chin a touch, and she thought he looked ready to smile before he cleared his throat. “Not since yesterday, Miss Chapple. But the advertisement only appeared on Monday. I am certain we will receive interest soon.”
“Yes, of course.” Heat blossomed in her cheeks and she tried to latch on to her scurrying thoughts. “Thank you. Is there anything else that might require my attention at present?”
“I think not, miss.” He made a show of looking about his desk. “I do not have anything pressing to share.”
“Very well, then. I will bid you good day.” Elaine went out the door, barely turning around, just enough to again glimpse the empty desk. Adam had been present in the house, at that desk, nearly every day since her arrival. His absence disconcerted her, and for some time after the entire house felt somehow lacking. It was too large, and too quiet, though her practical mind assured her Tertium’s manor was as it had always been.
How foolish, really, for her to even notice Adam’s absence. They often went hours without seeing each other during the day. He was always gone by dinner time. He never came until after breakfast. Sometimes she did not even see him until past noon.
Reminding herself of those facts eased her mind somewhat, except then she realized just how aware of Adam’s schedule she had become.
Elaine sat at her writing d
esk, in her blue parlor, staring out the window overlooking the gardens. What did Adam do when he was not busy overseeing her business? His brother’s home she knew to be empty. The family would be in London another fortnight, at least. Did he stay there alone? How did he entertain himself? He had often spoken as though he had no friends in the neighborhood.
Adam’s doings outside of her home were none of her business. Yet it troubled her that she did not know how he passed the time. He knew all about her, Elaine felt certain. Her hours were spent learning her duties, seeing to the children, walking the gardens, sewing, writing letters. Nothing terribly entertaining. The past week, she had paid visits to the ladies who had attended her picnic with the children. That had been a pleasant deviation from her routine.
Still. There had to be something more to her new life. Something to occupy her mind. Especially if it took her thoughts from Adam’s not-at-all mysterious absence.
The library; there was a destination which would also afford an occupation. She had not made much use of the library the late Mr. Gillensford had collected, but William had almost claimed the room as his own. There were several shelves of leather-bound books, nearly an entire shelf put together by William and Adam when they visited the book seller. Perhaps she would start her perusal there.
Elaine entered the room, the sunlight already pouring inside from the large windows. There were comfortable chairs and sofas all about the room, perfectly situated to take advantage of the light or the hearth. She went to the shelves where William had placed his new acquisitions, not ready to assimilate them into the main collection yet.
A knock on the door interrupted her, just as she had selected a volume of poetry. “Come in.”
Graham bowed. “Mistress, you have a guest.”
“Oh?” She slid the book back into place. “Who is calling this early in the day?” Most of her visitors did not come until midday at the earliest.
“Lady Philippa, Mr. Gillensford’s sister.” Graham sounded rather pleased with that announcement. Elaine’s reaction was less clearly defined. The youngest sister, the only one Adam spoke kindly of, visiting her? Adam was not present. If the sister had come to call, where was he? And if Lady Philippa was in Orford, did that mean her mother was as well?
His Unexpected Heiress: Entangled Inheritances Page 16