The Favor: The Blooms of Norfolk

by Angelina Jameson

  The gardener frowned. He shuffled his feet back and forth. “I do not wish to speak out of turn, my lady.”

  “You won’t be in trouble. Please tell me.” She smiled encouragingly at the stooped old man.

  “Lady Rose let him out this morning by himself. I tried to keep an eye on the pup. He runs too fast for me.”

  “Thank you for your frankness, Hinkle. The dog isn’t your responsibility. I will have a word with my sister about her pet.”

  It was lucky for Rose that Iris ran into Lottie before she could make it upstairs to the nursery.

  “The damage can be repaired, Lottie.” Iris pulled her sister into the morning room. “We need to make our expectations clear. The dog is not allowed in the garden unless supervised.”

  She nodded. “There is a new maid who can assist with the pup until it is trained. Hinkle is too old to be chasing a dog around the garden.”

  “I agree. Now that you are calmer, you should go speak with Rose. Don’t forget we have the Chandler musicale this evening. Sir Thomas will be joining us.”

  “I think I would rather chase Rose’s dog,” Lottie replied before taking her leave.

  Rose was in the nursery reading A History of England by Mrs. Markham. She looked up when her sister entered the room. “Your face is very red, Lottie. Is something the matter?”

  “Where is your dog?”

  “In my bedchamber. Miss Giles is watching him.”

  She took several deep breaths. “Miss Giles is your governess. Her duties do not include looking after your pet. I will ask the new maid Sally to help with the dog. If you want to keep Livingston, you must agree to supervise him when he is in the garden.”

  “Keep him? He’s my dog. My friend,” Rose replied, her voice rising. She put her book aside.

  “Iris said you were grown up enough for the responsibility. I’m not so sure. I hope you will prove me wrong.”

  “If Miss Giles approves, I will read in my room and keep Livingston company. I promise to supervise my dog when he is in the garden.” Rose stood up.

  “Very good. We have an agreement,” she replied. Her thoughts returned to the mess in the garden. “Poor Mr. Hinkle. I must go see to my flowers.”

  As Lottie made her way downstairs, she thought about the future. What if she found a husband? What would happen to Rose? She naturally assumed that when Iris and Chastain moved into their refurbished house, Rose would not be joining them. If Lottie married in the next year, Rose would be fourteen years of age. Aunt Abigail couldn’t be expected to look after the girl. Could Ambrose manage Rose on his own?

  And what of Aunt Abigail? The woman had come to them at Marcourt last Autumn and had stayed on with the family. Although Abigail had a sister-in-law in King’s Lynn, the two women had had a falling out. They might well be blessed with their aunt for some time to come.

  She would speak with Sally about the dog. There was time enough to talk with Iris about Rose and Aunt Abigail’s future.

  * * * * *

  “It is really too bad you cannot eat most of this meal,” Peake said to Ambrose that evening. “Your cook has outdone herself. The tongue is delicious.”

  Ambrose chuckled. “I imagine the meal was in your honor as your delight in Mrs. Heyford’s culinary skill is well known.”

  Peake was in a jovial mood. He had no wish to revisit the subject of Miss Bolton or his father, but there was another subject he wanted to introduce.

  “Lady Rose has asked her sisters to allow her to return to Marcourt.”

  “Tired of London, is she?” Ambrose sipped a spoonful of beef broth.

  “I imagine she is tired of Lottie.” He grinned. “Your sister is tightening the girl’s lead strings.”

  “We have indulged Rose, I admit. We wanted to make up for her losing our parents.”

  “You also lost your parents,” he replied somberly. “I think all of you have made the best of a sad situation. Supposedly Lady Markham wishes to accompany Rose to Marcourt.”

  Ambrose replied, “I’m afraid Aunt Abigail will never go back to her household in King’s Lynn. Now that I feel much better, I will return to London and fetch my youngest sister and my aunt back to the country. Iris has a new home to go to, and Lottie should be free to concentrate on the season and getting a husband.”

  “I haven’t seen any indication from Lottie that she wants a husband,” he replied without thinking.

  “You have recently spent a lot of time in my sister’s company?” Ambrose sharpened his gaze.

  He shrugged. “A few family dinners Lady Chastain was kind enough to invite me to.”

  “Of course.” Ambrose nodded. There was a short silence before his friend looked out of a window in the room. “It looks as if the rain has finally stopped.”

  It appeared Ambrose would let the subject of Lottie drop. Peake sighed in relief.

  “I will write to Iris on the morrow and reassure my sister that all is well and I will soon return to London.”

  He nodded. “Very good. Tomorrow I will set off for my own estate. Although if it starts to rain again, I may well need a boat to get there.”

  * * * * *

  “There is a letter from Ambrose!” Iris hurried from the terrace to a spot near her sister in the back garden.

  Lottie looked up from her place tending weeds in a bed of daffodils. “How lovely.”

  “Ambrose writes that he is quite well. He is returning to London. There was a lot of rain in the area, but he hopes to make the journey in four days. Lord Peake has decamped for his own estate.”

  “Very good.” Lottie stood up and stretched. Lord Peake wouldn’t be in London for some time. She would concentrate on her flowers and helping Iris settle into her new home. She wouldn’t think about the viscount visiting Miss Bolton.

  “Is something wrong? You look pale.”

  She rubbed her forehead. “I think I stood up too quickly. Perhaps I will get out of the sun for a short while.” After she said the words, she realized the sky was covered with clouds.

  Iris took her arm. She didn’t mention the cloudy sky. “Come join me for a cool drink. You did say last evening you wanted to discuss Rose and Aunt Abigail with me.”

  “After the dreadful musicale yesterday, I forgot all about it.”

  The women walked to the single door from the back garden which opened onto the corridor near the morning room.

  “I think Lady Cair’s young charge Miss Davis has a voice like a hyena,” Iris said. She visibly shuddered. “I nearly had a migraine when we got home. Chastain says he will never go to another musicale ever again.”

  “Having heard a hyena whine in the menagerie at The Tower, I have to agree to your description of Miss Davis’s singing voice. If Lady Cair wants to find the girl a husband, she shouldn’t let her sing in public.”

  Lottie had been seated next to Sir Thomas at the musicale. He had been most solicitous of her that evening. She wished she was attracted to the baronet. How simple it would be to marry him and live at the estate next to Marcourt.

  “Iris appears very happy in her marriage,” Sir Thomas said to her as they stood in a corner of the room during an intermission.

  “She does,” she replied tentatively. The baronet’s words had sounded wistful.

  “I think I am destined to die a bachelor. I cannot bring myself to marry merely for the sake of being wed.”

  She was relieved to know he wasn’t paying her any particular attention as an aim to marriage. “I feel the same way, Sir Thomas. It is a relief to hear someone else express a similar sentiment.”

  The baronet was handsome and wealthy, an educated man who loved to collect antiquities. Their families got along extremely well. He was exactly what anyone should want in a husband. Why then were her thoughts constantly turning to Lord Peake, a man she knew very little about? A man who didn’t even seem to like her.

  When the women were settled with glasses of lemonade in the morning room, Lottie said, “The news Ambrose will be in town
soon is most opportune. We need to discuss what to do with Rose and Aunt Abigail.”

  “Aunt Abigail doesn’t appear to want to return to King’s Lynn.” Iris paused. “We should ask her what she desires. Her returning to Marcourt was Rose’s idea, after all.”

  “Rose has made her wishes known.” She sighed heavily. “I would prefer the puppy go to the country. He needs space to run. Space to play. Sally would go along as well.”

  “I think Rose and Livingston would both be happier in the country. Let us speak with our aunt. When Ambrose arrives, we shall know how to go forward.”

  Lottie took a long sip of her drink, willing herself to concentrate on Aunt Abigail, Rose, or her flowers. Lord Peake would return to London when he returned to London. And why did she care when that would be?

  * * * * *

  Peake’s estate in Suffolk was a long day’s journey from Marcourt. He was determined to make it to Hill House in one day despite the muddy roads. It was past five of the o’clock when he arrived.

  A footman informed Peake his mother was in her parlor. The viscountess rose to her feet when he entered the room. He felt a rush of affection overcome him. She was his only family and he’d missed her.

  “Edward! I couldn’t believe it when your note came this afternoon. How delightful to have you home, my son.”

  “It is wonderful to be home.” Tiny and delicate, his mother was still very lovely. She proffered a cheek for his kiss. Her Jasmine perfume enveloped him.

  “Now do go wash up. I will have a cold dinner for you in the drawing room. Join me there when you return downstairs.”

  Several minutes later, he entered the drawing room to find a glass of claret had been poured for him. His mother sipped at what he surmised was Capillaire as he could smell the fragrance of oranges. A tray with meat, cheese, and bread waited for him on a side table.

  “Is anything the matter with your friend, the marquess you call Ambrose? Your letter said you were at Marcourt.”

  As he assembled a sandwich, he replied, “I visited Ambrose as his sisters were concerned about his health. He is quite well. Before I returned to town, I thought I might visit you. Have you thought any more about journeying to London?”

  “I have no desire to go to town. I have my garden and my books. Sometimes I imagine I smell your father’s cigar smoke around me. The chair you’re sitting in right now was one of his favorites. Oh no, I prefer to stay at Hill House.”

  He noticed a book on the rosewood occasional table at his mother’s elbow. It was a copy of Dr. Sexton’s travels.

  “Mother, it isn’t too late to visit the places you read about.”

  “I like to picture them in my mind,” she replied. “What if the reality is not as wonderful as my own imagination?”

  The truth was that his mother chose not to travel without his father. Her whole life had been spent in either Suffolk or London. She had been content to follow her husband, to be his hostess. He wondered if she were lonely.

  She needed a companion. They had yet to discuss Miss Bolton at any length. “Have you had any visitors lately? Perhaps one of our neighbors?”

  “Very few. I see people at church. That is enough.” She took a sip of her drink, her eyes closing momentarily at the taste of her favorite cordial.

  It was still light outside. The clock on the mantelpiece showed the hour to be nearly six o’clock.

  “How are your latest plantings? Anything of import in the glasshouses?”

  Her face lit up at the change of topic. “Oh yes, there is so much to show you. Would you like to see the new trees?”

  “I definitely would. Especially if they bear fruit or nuts.” He winked.

  “Always thinking of your stomach.” Although his mother shook her head, she had a smile on her face. “Shall we go now?”

  “No time like the present,” he replied before he swallowed the remainder of the claret in his glass.

  As they walked out of the room, his mother placed a hand over his arm. “Perhaps while we are in the glasshouses, you can tell me why you really came home.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “What are you asking me?” Aunt Abigail’s voice was high-pitched; she was visibly shaking. “Do you want me to leave the house?”

  Lottie patted her aunt’s hand. The older woman was seated next to her on a settee in the small drawing room. Iris sat across from them on a high-backed chair. Rose was running scales on the pianoforte in the boudoir next door. Rose missed a note, Abigail winced.

  “We merely want to ascertain your wishes,” Lottie said in a soothing voice. “Make sure you want to travel to Marcourt. That it wasn’t only Rose’s wish to return to the country.”

  The woman nodded several times; the hand under Lottie’s was no longer trembling. “Although I prefer the country, you mentioned Ambrose is coming to London. I must stay in town to see him.”

  Lottie met Iris’s gaze and nodded.

  “I think that is a splendid idea, Auntie,” Iris said brightly. “I’m sure Ambrose would like you to be here when he arrives. If you then want to return to Marcourt, we will honor your wishes.”

  Rose played another discordant note. Abigail shuddered and removed her hand from Lottie’s grasp. Her gaze settled on a spot in the corner of the room. Lottie knew this was a signal their aunt was done with the subject at hand.

  Iris asked, “Do you feel up to the theatre this evening, Lottie? Chastain’s father will be joining us.”

  “I would love to join you. The opening night of a new production at Covent Garden is not to be missed.”

  Iris replied, “The operetta Clari is based on a French ballet with an American dramatist. It should be an interesting production.”

  Livingston ran into the room, Sally trailing behind him.

  “Pardon, my ladies.” The maid paused in her pursuit of Rose’s pet. “The dog knows it is time to go out and he wants his mistress.”

  The spaniel stopped beside Rose and whined until she turned and picked him up. He licked her face excitedly. Rose asked her sisters, “May I go now?”

  “You’ve practiced enough for one day,” Iris answered with a nod.

  Rose put the dog back on the floor, stood up from the bench, and skipped out of the room, Livingston at her heels. Sally moved to follow.

  “May I speak to you a moment, Sally?” Lottie asked the maid.

  “Yes, my lady?”

  “Would you have any concerns about accompanying Lady Rose to Marcourt? My brother’s estate is in Norfolk. You have done a wonderful job helping my sister care for her dog.”

  “I would be most pleased to go to Norfolk, my lady. I have enjoyed caring for Livingston.”

  Lottie inclined her head. “Then it is settled. Thank you, Sally.”

  The maid left the room. Aunt Abigail was still in her semi-trance.

  “Would you care for some refreshment, Auntie?” Iris asked.

  “No, my dear. You girls run along and let me enjoy some peace.”

  They dutifully left their aunt to her own devices.

  “Rose and Abigail are sorted for now,” Lottie said to her sister as they walked to the staircase for the first floor.

  “Ambrose will be here soon and we will be able to confirm that he is in good health. I forgot to tell you Chastain received a missive from Lord Peake. The viscount wanted to give us his assurance that Ambrose was well when he visited Marcourt.”

  “That was very kind of him,” she replied. Lottie was disappointed not to have a note from lord Peake. Although she shouldn’t expect the man to write to her. It would have been inappropriate.

  “I wish to check on the work being done at my new home. Chastain would like to take up residence in the townhouse next week. Will you accompany me, Lottie?”

  “Of course. Let me change and I will join you.”

  Once in her room, she tried not to think about Iris being gone from the house. She hadn’t thought much about her own future. Aunt Abigail was an indifferent chaperone at best
. The idea of the marriage mart held little appeal.

  Perhaps Lord Peake would return soon. He did liven up her social calendar.

  * * * * *

  “Aren’t they marvelous?” His mother pointed as she said, “That one is a cherry tree, those two are peach trees, and the one at the end is a lime tree.”

  “I’ve never seen a lime tree before.” He walked to the end of the row of potted plants to peer at the tree.

  “It is very rare to have one in England. I’ve named it Liverpool. Your father always said the prime minister had a greenish cast to his complexion.”

  He stopped himself asking how much the tree had cost. His mother’s eyes were bright, her smile wide. He didn’t want to ruin her excitement.

  “Lord Bolton found it for me. He knows how much I love to add to our collection.” She patted his arm. “It was not too costly.”

  “And how is Lord Bolton and his family?”

  His mother’s attention was on the lime tree. “Quite changed from the last time you were at Hill House.”

  “How so, Mother?”

  “The servants tell me only Archibald is seen leaving the house. The rest of the family behave almost as hermits. Such a shame. Miss Bolton was always so exuberant, although sometimes alarmingly so. Her parents took the girl to London to see a physician in Harley Street. Since their return to Suffolk, the girl has not been the same.”

  “How is she different?” he asked, hoping for more than generalities.

  She was silent a moment as they both stood admiring the plants around them. “Lady Bolton and her daughter came to tea last week. At first Miss Bolton was quite subdued, then for no apparent reason, she became agitated. Lady Bolton hurried her home. It was all rather disconcerting.”

  Even his mother had had a negative experience with the young lady. He wanted to see Miss Bolton again to judge her behavior with his own eyes. “I planned to call on Lord Bolton tomorrow. I will send a note to see if he is home to visitors. I would like to return to London the day after next.”

  His mother squeezed the arm she still held as she looked up at him. “So soon?”