by Heather Boyd
“I’m doing my best, my lord.”
“See that you do,” Hector suggested as they reached the massive front door of The Vynes. Parker didn’t need prodding to exit the carriage first. It was damn cold, and they both looked forward to a night of warmth and comfort before a blazing fire.
Hector got out, stretched, and then shivered as the cold wind cut through his greatcoat. “Damn, that’s a bitter wind blowing.” He looked at his men as they swarmed over the carriage, and then caught the coachman’s eye. “There’s most of a bottle of rum left inside. Dole it out to the men to warm them through when you’re done taking care of the horses and carriage.”
The coachman nodded, “Thank ye, sir.”
He smiled quickly and made his way up to the front door before his face froze. Belatedly, he noticed the door wasn’t already opened for him, and a drift of snow had piled up before it. He yanked on the bell chain, raining ice down on himself in the process from the bell above the door, and then danced about in the cutting breeze until someone finally came.
As soon as the door opened a crack, Hector darted inside. “What took you so long?”
“I beg your pardon?” a man demanded.
Hector narrowed his eyes, not recognizing the servant. “Lord Hector Stockwick. My sister and brother-in-law are expecting me.”
“And who are they?”
Hector blinked, and then looked around himself quickly, concerned for a moment that he’d barged into the wrong great house by mistake. But no. This was The Vynes. Everything was exactly as he remembered from the last time he’d been here—everything except for the servant standing before him. He must be new.
“I am here to see Lord and Lady Clement,” he announced.
The man brow furrowed. “Lord and Lady Clement are not here.”
“Damn, I must have beaten them and arrived first. That’ll give m’sister a turn. I’m never early.”
The fellow cleared his throat. “They are not expected.”
“They damn well are, or I would not have come all this way in the cold for a family party.”
“Who is it, Peter?” an old voice queried from the shadows.
“It’s a Lord Stockwick, asking for Lord and Lady Clement,” the man, Peter, replied.
Hector heard the shuffle of feet coming toward him and looked for the source. He grinned at seeing a familiar face at last—Brown, The Vynes old butler. “There you are, my good man,” Hector cried.
But Hector’s grin faded as he discovered a profound change in the older man’s features. One side of his face was turned down at the side, and his slow progress became painful to watch.
“You’ve been unwell,” Hector murmured, and then averted his eyes.
“Just a bit slower than I used to be, my lord,” Brown murmured, pausing to draw breath. He glanced at the other servant. “Have the Green Room prepared for Lord Stockwick immediately and inform cook we’ve guests for dinner.”
“Yes, sir.” The fellow rushed off.
The old butler winced. “Forgive the confusion, my lord. Peter is new to the household and not acquainted with all the family yet.”
“Ah, right. Oh, and speaking of new. This is my new valet, Parker,” he announced. “I was expecting to meet my sister and Lord Clement here.”
“We have not been informed of their coming, my lord, but we will now have the house prepared,” he promised.
Hector glanced around, finally noticing there were closed doors all around him, and it was almost as cold inside as out. “Who is here, sir?”
“Only Lord Vyne.”
“Ah,” Hector said but cringed. He and Lord Vyne were not the best of friends. Hector actually preferred it that way. “I suppose I’d better pay my respects.”
“Lord Vyne will be informed of your arrival, of course, and I will have someone let you know when he might consent to see you.”
“I’m in no hurry, but thank you.”
The butler glanced around them; his expression was pained. “The lower rooms are not warm, my lord, so perhaps you’d like to remain in your rooms for now. I’ve put you in the same room you had last year. The lower rooms’ fires will be lit shortly but it could take some hours for the drawing room and library to become warm enough for you.”
“As long as there’s a fire and bottle of port to be drunk in my room, I’ll be in no hurry to come back down tonight.”
“Very good, my lord,” the butler said before he began another slow shuffle back to the shadows.
Hector started up the stairs immediately, Parker at his side. “Well, isn’t this a cold welcome,” he muttered. “I come all this way on the promise of a good time and end up nearly alone.”
“Perhaps the Clements are delayed by the weather,” Parker murmured soothingly. “Lord Vyne will undoubtedly be glad of your company.”
“I highly doubt that,” he rubbed his chilled jaw. “M’sister never quite mentioned how the old devil took his wife leaving him. He was sour before, but after that…”
“Perhaps he’s mellowed.”
“Not a chance,” Hector warned. They reached the top of the stairs and paused to look around. “The family wing is that side, guests always to the left. Lord Vyne’s chambers are the very last set of doors down there.”
Those doors were closed, but a line of light shone beneath them, which Hector supposed meant the old devil was inside stewing in his juices most likely. Hector would see him soon enough, and tonight, console himself with an excellent evening of drinking alone.
He turned down the hall toward the room he’d occupied last year and found servants streaming in and out of the chamber. The bed had just finished being made up, and a maid crouched over the pitifully small fire. Parker strode in, took charge of the luggage, and then ushered the maid out, promising to take care of the fire himself. He bent low, coaxing the flames to life.
Hector threw himself on the bed, tossed a blanket over his legs and put his hands behind his head. “Good enough for now,” he murmured.
A servant came to the door and cleared his throat soon after. “Lord Vyne has been informed of your arrival but is disinclined to see you this evening, my lord,” the man announced
“Disinclined? Now that is a frosty reception.” He waved the servant away and caught Parker’s gaze. “I told you he wouldn’t have mellowed.”
“I’m sorry I doubted you.”
“It’s quite all right. People always underestimate my wisdom.” He sighed. “I suppose we ought to bunk down for the night. See what the new day brings.”
“I’m sure tomorrow will be a vast deal more to your liking,” Parker promised.
Hector closed his eyes, seriously considering taking a nap before dinner. “One can only hope so.”
Chapter 3
Hector was suddenly and rudely shaken awake. “I’m sorry to wake you, my lord, but I’ll be off to find our supper.”
Hector yawned, glancing around and then squinting at the dark window panes. “Is it night already?”
“A little after nine, my lord. The minute your head hit the pillow, you were asleep.”
Hector scrubbed at his head. “Clement and my sister?”
“There have been no new arrivals, I’m afraid.”
“Any word from Vyne?”
“Nothing.”
Hector sat up. “I don’t know why Vyne would be discourteous to me. I didn’t have a hand in taking his wife away from him or forced his son to marry m’sister. The damn fellow couldn’t be stopped from declaring that he loved Meg. What could I do? I had to agree to the match, or they might very well have eloped. If anything, it was I who have reason to be upset with them. I truly think she would have married him without my blessing. Imagine that.”
“People in love do the strangest things,” Parker agreed but he started to frown before rushing to look out the window. “There’s a carriage approaching.”
Hector got to his feet and stretched. “M’sister?”
“I couldn’t say for sure,
” Parker muttered. “I don’t think so. The carriage is smaller than I would expect for a traveling chaise. It is still some distance away.”
“I’d better fortify myself with a stiff drink before I go back downstairs.”
Parker left the window and started to pour Hector’s drink.
“Give it over,” Hector said as he drew near. He took a warming swallow and smiled. “Only the best at The Vynes,” he murmured to himself. “I have missed that this past year.”
Parker returned to the window, and Hector joined him in looking out. There was indeed a carriage drawing closer. He could see a pair of lamps swinging back and forth, carried by men guiding the horses down the long drive. But with so little illumination, there wasn’t much else he could make out.
While Parker straightened the bed, Hector continued to track the carriage’s progress, warming himself with another small glass of Lord Vyne’s excellent port. The carriage reached the house finally, but then circled to the servants’ entrance. “Not m’sister.”
Hector moved to the far window, threw aside the drape in a bid to see more below.
A cloaked figure clambered out, and then reached back inside the carriage. Hector was taken aback to see a child jump into those outstretched arms. Instinct told him the cloaked figure was female. “A lady and child,” he mused out loud.
“What was that?”
“I said the carriage just brought a woman and child to the servants’ entrance.”
Parker came to see, too. “Odd.”
Hector followed their progress until he couldn’t see them anymore. But he was sure they had come in. “How is it odd?”
“I don’t know, but…”
“I’m curious too,” he murmured. His stomach rumbled. “Be a good fellow and go below and bring me back my supper. While you’re there, find out what’s afoot.”
“Yes, sir,” Parker promised before slipping from the room.
Hector glanced out the window again, noting the carriage was being turned around to leave again. “Now, who would visit Lord Vyne with a young child on a night like this?”
Intrigued, he headed for the door and stepped outside into the hall to take a peek, only to dart back inside his room when he saw movement. Three figures were just down the hall at the top of the staircase.
Hector peeked out carefully again, noticing they were moving toward the family wing. No. Not just the family wing…but directly to Lord Vyne’s bedchamber door.
The distant door opened, and for a brief moment, the trio was illuminated. A woman and child’s outlines were as clear as day beside Peter, the butler’s stand-in. They entered, but Peter remained outside. And then the bedchamber door shut behind the new arrivals, throwing the hall into darkness again.
Hector withdrew into his room as Peter headed for the stairs and rushed down them loudly.
When all was quiet, Hector risked another peek. The hall was empty now. Eerily still.
Hector took a few steps toward the family wing, feeling an odd sense of concern about the woman and child arriving so late at night. It smacked of a scandal in the making. If that were true, he’d better find out the details before Clement and Meg came.
“My lord, is something the matter?” Parker queried from directly behind Hector.
Hector spun about, caught by surprise. He was about to complain about Parker’s stealth when he noticed a footman standing behind his new valet. “No. Just stretching my legs.”
The footman stepped forward, his expression grim as he held a large tray. “Your supper, my lord.”
“Yes, good.” He cast a discreet glance toward Lord Vyne’s chambers and then headed back into his warmer room, where the tray was being set on a low table before a chair nearest the fire.
Hector picked at the food until the footman was gone. “That woman and child were taken into Lord Vyne’s private chambers. What did you learn below?”
Parker whistled. “Perhaps that’s the cause?”
“Of what?”
“The odd feeling I just got from the other servants. I know I’m a stranger, but the mood below stairs is grim. No one is talking, and I sense the servants in the kitchen couldn’t wait for me to leave again.” Parker’s lips twitched. “But perhaps it’s nothing at all, and I imagined the strangeness where none exists.”
The man had good instincts. “Get back down there.”
“Why?”
Although he didn’t have to explain himself to his valet, he wanted to impress upon Parker a sense of urgency. “My sister is due to arrive, and her delicate state…”
Parker nodded. “You don’t want her made upset if there’s a scandal brewing. I understand.”
Hector nodded. “Find out who that woman is before morning comes, and I’ll double your wages.”
“Yes, sir,” Parker agreed, eyes alight with a mix of greed and excitement.
Chapter 4
Ruby Roper hugged her son tightly to her chest. The little boy was sleeping soundly in her arms at last. Their journey had been hard for him. The cold and urgency of their flight from Scotland had unsettled him. Surely it couldn’t be too much longer before they met her uncle, Lord Vyne, and they could finally rest.
If they were to receive the help they needed from Lord Vyne, and perhaps be allowed to stay at one of the family estates, they had to make a good impression. She had hoped to see her aunt and cousins, too, but they hadn’t come yet. Ruby was sure that with their support, the matter of her son’s future would be easily achieved.
Ruby had only the vaguest idea of where she was in the Vynes’ mansion. Her last visit was years ago, long before her marriage. Tonight she’d been brought through dark corridors to this small reception room with no conversation other than she was to follow and wait.
Ruby adjusted her son in her lap, striving to ease the discomfort of sitting in the same position for an hour. At least they were warm at last. A cheerful fire burned in the hearth below the clock, and plenty of fuel had been added to it to ensure their comfort.
The servant appeared again, a pitcher in hand, and disappeared into the other room without looking her way.
A few minutes later, the servant returned and cleared his throat. “Lord Vyne will see you now, Mrs. Roper.”
“Thank you.”
Ruby shook her boy until Pip stirred. Sleepy gray eyes blinked open. “Mama?”
“Shh, my darling. We’re to see Lord Vyne now. Remember what we practiced on the journey.”
Pip nodded quickly and wriggled to be set down. Pip smoothed his hands down his rough waistcoat and then tugged on his too-short sleeves. As with any small boy, he usually cared little for his appearance. He tossed his head, removing his sandy hair from his eyes and nodded that he was ready.
Ruby smiled down on him. Poor Pip had been through so much since their flight from Scotland. She had uprooted him from everything he’d ever known. He missed his home, and his granny, too. She took hold of his tiny hand and they moved toward the servant side by side.
The man gestured her toward the open doorway.
Ruby glimpsed shadows beyond and not much else. But she moved into the room, tugging her son with her because she had no choice.
The room was a bedchamber, and her uncle sat before the fire in a chair, one booted foot carelessly thrown over the other. He did not rise upon seeing her but beckoned her close impatiently.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Uncle,” she murmured as she dipped a deep curtsy. Beside her, Pip bowed. “May I introduce my son, Pip, to you?”
“I never expected to see you again, Niece,” Uncle said in a disapproving tone. “I thought you were gone from us forever.”
Although startled by his tone, Ruby kept her chin up. She was not ashamed of her actions. She’d married for love. “My husband died last year, sir. I missed home and my family.”
His eyes narrowed. “Your father’s home is still some miles away, girl. Much farther south.”
“I could not pass The Vynes estate witho
ut paying my respects to you first.”
He grunted. “Well, then, don’t just stand there, girl. Come closer so I may see you better by the fire’s light.”
Ruby quickly complied and bore a long stare that took in her appearance from head to toe without flinching. She was very conscious that her gown was years old and desperately needed replacement, her cuffs worn. His gaze then flickered to her son Pip and lingered, before he gazed into the flames again.
“You look like your mother,” Lord Vyne remarked.
“I think so too,” Ruby murmured, looking down at Pip with a fond smile.
“I was speaking of you, Mrs. Roper. Your mother was a beauty in her youth. Quite the catch for my brother, then. She may not have had much of a dowry, but men were lining up just to speak with her.” His expression soured, and he looked up at Ruby again. “Your ill-advised marriage ruined your chances of reaching your fullest potential.”
Ruby trembled a little. “I have never regretted the choices I made, Uncle.”
Vyne snorted. “As difficult as your mother was, too, I see, which explains why you’d willingly run off to marry a poor farmer’s son.”
“He was a good man, kind to me. A good father to Pip.” She’d known her marriage would make her unpopular within the family, but she’d expected at least cordial civility from her uncle. “I see I shouldn’t have come.”
Vyne shook his head. “Sit down.”
She did, and Pip, to his credit, neatly lowered himself to the seat beside her instead of dropping like a stone as had always been his custom.
In the light of the fire, she got a better look at her uncle. He seemed to have changed very much. There was a lot more gray in his hair than she remembered, and the lines on his face were deeper. She didn’t wonder about the lack of a smile for her. He’d never smiled at her before that she could remember. “I am glad to find you in good health, Uncle.”