Sinfully Delectable (Regency Four Book 2)

by Virginia Taylor

  Eden nodded in agreement. “We had the piano in the church hall fixed,” he said, his expression serious, “but some days you would barely know it. Mary hits every flat note possible.”

  Mary flicked at his arm with her shawl in mock indignation but anyone could see she wasn’t at all offended. She was more inclined to laugh. Lucy did laugh. “Eden, you are horrible. She’s not at all bad, but she wasn’t meant to be any more than a social player, not like Della, who is magnificent. Everyone says so.”

  Della did her modest face, but she was thinking, selfishly, of course. Playing music for a purpose other than to improve would be a wonderful way to relax. She wouldn’t need to notice her every fault but instead hear the voices of children learning words and tunes they might otherwise never hear.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Della skimmed through Lady Lucy’s wardrobe, happy to be occupied. At home, she was considered a flittering moth, to be brushed aside the moment she tried to open her wings. Finally, she could be useful. Not only could she help Lady Lucy choose her gowns for her London season, Della could also use her skills on the piano for a reason other than to critique herself.

  “I was dreading Lucy’s come out.” Delicately pretty, Lady Thornton stood in Lucy’s bedroom doorway, watching as Della flipped through the fashion magazines Lucy had presented for her inspection. “I’ve had no need to go to London since Eden’s father died. I am the last person to know the latest fashions or which fabrics would be the most suitable for her.”

  Della smiled. “I adore fabrics. Mama would tell you how often I drag her along with me to the bazaars when we’re in London. She is so annoyed when I don’t buy a thing, because she thinks she will have to go with me again.”

  “Your mother has loftier matters on her mind. She is a great support to your father.”

  “Yes, indeed. She is his rock in a storm.” Her mother was her father’s main sounding post in parliamentary matters. No foul wind could blow her off course. To her credit, she was also indulgent about her daughter’s stubborn nature and her readiness to challenge authority. Not too many mothers would be as patient. Della sighed, knowing her frequently enumerated faults.

  “In this family, we rely on Eden. He is our rock. I can always rely on him, and his sisters do, too. He will be a great help to Lucy when she arrives in London. He has promised to introduce her to everyone.”

  Not too long ago, Della would have found the statement laughable about Eden being a rock. Now, she was beginning to realize that he was much more than an idle London buck. He was also a responsible landowner who understood crop rotations. Or so her father had told her. She had noticed for herself that his servants offered more smiles than the normal servants, and anticipated orders in a way that kept his home running efficiently. His fields stood thick with crops, and his trees glistened in the sunshine. Papa had mentioned Eden made a better income than he, whose ancestors had owned Hayden House from the first baron to the last, through a series of warring kings, warring nations, and disinterested landowners. The next baron, his heir, would be Della’s brother, who would hopefully show more interest than Papa, who was only interested in politics.

  After helping Lady Lucy to choose the perfect colors to flatter her complexion, Della riffled through many pages until she found the style of gown most suited to the sweet young lady. She promised to accompany her to the village the next day to sort through ribbons and artificial flowers, or whatever the local shop stocked. Della rarely bought anything in the village, herself. The idea that a lady should ride around the countryside alone horrified her mother, who insisted on burdening her with a groom.

  Apparently, Eden abided by the same rule when, being otherwise occupied with his secretary, he had left instructions that his would accompany her. She suffered in silence until she arrived home. Eden’s groom doffed his hat and left her outside the stable doors. She entered the house from the back.

  Servants scurried hither and thither. The butler gave her a dour glance as he passed her in the passage. “Measles,” he said. “My lady is in the kitchen.” He huffed as if the idea was shocking, but Della took his words to mean that if she wanted to know the cause of the chaos, she would find her mother in the kitchen. After removing her hat and gloves, she went immediately to her mother’s rescue.

  Her mother sat in the housekeeper’s room, being shown the housekeeper’s book of secrets. “One of the kitchen maids has contracted the measles,” Mama said over her shoulder. “Wretched girl. We are trying to discover how many of the servants haven’t had the disease.”

  The housekeeper sent a ‘save me’ glance to Della. “Miss Martin developed a bad headache this morning.”

  Della sighed. With Mama’s mainstay out of action, Mama would be forced to take over. “We went through this last year. You decided that we wouldn’t worry, since there is nothing we can do about measles, anyway.”

  Unlike other mothers, hers never shown interest in domesticity. She disliked being in the country as much as Papa did. When she was forced to take control, she was either helpless or tired. Today, Mama had decided to use her explaining voice. “The colonies were rife with smallpox when I was a child and if it hadn’t been for Charles IV, the disease would be worldwide.”

  “Yes, Mama.” Della knew what the Spanish King had done to help inoculate his subjects, because Mama had told her many times.

  Mama was proud of her Spanish heritage, but she had spent the major part of her life in England, having been the daughter of the Spanish Ambassador. She had met Papa in England when he was a young major on furlough.

  “So, you think I shouldn’t worry?” Mama usually draped herself in bright shawls, making sure she appeared exotic, which suited her olive-skinned beauty. She was proud of the fact that she didn’t yet have a single grey hair, whereas Papa, only a few years older than she, already had a head full.

  “Just make sure that whomever looks after them has already had measles.”

  “You don’t think I should look after Daisy, do you?”

  “No, mama.” Della pushed out a breath. Her poor companion deserved better treatment than that. “I’ll find a cold compress for her and the servants will take care of the maid. Is there talk of measles in the village?”

  “Apparently, the maid contracted the infection after going home for her day off. One of her young brothers passed it to her. Why do you ask?”

  “I wanted to be sure that Daisy merely has the headache and not measles. I’m sure Mrs. Bean has the maid’s nursing organized.”

  The housekeeper nodded. “Yes, Miss Della. Her ladyship need not worry.”

  “Could you organize a tea tray for us in the drawing room? Come, Mama. Let’s sit.”

  Mama sent her a look of gratitude and followed Della from the downstairs kitchen and up the flight of stairs to the drawing room.

  “If everyone comes down with measles, we will have to go back to London.” Mama arranged her shawl about her shoulders as she sat in her favorite chair.

  “Everyone won’t. Most of us have had the infection.”

  “If it’s in the village, all the servants who live out will be a problem.”

  “Yes, Mama.” Della sighed. Few lived out and the last epidemic was five years ago. She couldn’t think of a servant they hadn’t had for five years, except the young maid with measles. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

  Mama finally appeared satisfied. “Did you enjoy your visit to Thornton Place?”

  Della nodded. “Eden’s sisters are sweet. I’m not so much older than they are.”

  “At your age, three years is quite a difference. When you were eighteen, the oldest would have been no more than fourteen. Still a child. She had grown very pretty. She should do well in London.”

  “They both spend time in the village. Mary plays the piano in the church hall for the parish choir. She would like me to help.”

  Mama looked alarmed. “You can’t while everyone has measles.”

  Della sighed and persisted. �
��It’s the least we can do. The Thorntons attend all the village functions and our family has been here for four hundred years and we barely know the name of the owner of the fabric shop.”

  “Rogers.” Mama raised her chin. “I bought a crocheting hook there.”

  “Not for years. We should attend functions and donate money for the building of the new cottages on Arbour Street.”

  “What sort of functions?” Mama look alarmed as she homed in on the least of her responsibilities. “Not those awful fetes they have every year?”

  “Yes,” Della said mercilessly. “You never have to do a thing other than cut a ribbon for a race, or donate a small prize. You can bet that after Raimond inherits, that his wife will do that, in the very least.”

  Mama stiffened her spine. Raimond’s wife was a great disappointment to her, in that she was loud and pushy. Mama rearranged her shawl, the expression on her face militant. “This year, I intend to do something or other.”

  “You intend to give your permission for your daughter to play the piano in the church hall.”

  “Now?”

  “On Tuesday. Perhaps, you would you like to come with me?”

  “To sing hymns?”

  “To meet the children, and perhaps their parents.”

  Mama looked wary. “They won’t be grateful if we spread the measles.”

  “We won’t.” Della fixed her gaze on her mother’s. “I do think we should do more for the local community. Since the Haydens have been here forever, we should do more for the villagers than the Thorntons.”

  Mama’s cheeks turned an annoyed pink. “I never want it said that my daughter-in-law is a better women than I. If a newcomer like Lady Thornton can impress the locals, I will too.”

  “You are far more impressive, Mama. You are exotic.”

  Mama had been snubbed for being Spanish before her marriage, but those days had long passed. She squared her shoulders. “I shall go to the church hall with you and meet the children. I don’t expect I can stay long. Should I take a basket of food?”

  “We could take sugar plums or jam tartlets for the children.”

  The day turned out to be a great success. Della played the hymns agreed upon. The children, cheered on by young Lady Mary Thornton, shouted the words tunelessly, but with great enthusiasm, which amused Della. The children left, sticky with jam and smiling. The rector, a thin young gentleman with a mild manner, hoped she would come again. She promised to return the next week with a batch of old nursery tunes she learned during her own childhood. He seemed to be perfectly satisfied, and Mary hugged her.

  On the way home, Mama said, “That went well,” which convulsed Della with laughter. Mama must have heard Eden’s favorite saying.

  * * * *

  Eden heard his mother’s voice calling out to him as he was pulling on his gloves, preparing to leave for London. Needing to talk urgently to his man of business about the problems of drainage around his workers’ cottages, the sooner he left, the sooner he would arrive back. He hadn’t seen Della for the past three days, and now he had to put off his visit for another week. “You want me, Mother?” He turned away from the front door, hiding his impatience.

  “I have been calling your name, haven’t I?” she answered with a frantic tone she rarely used. “The housekeeper has measles.”

  “I expect that the house will still run without her.” Knowing the house would fall apart without her, he jammed his hat on his head.

  “No doubt,” Mother said in a worried voice. “I’m sure I can manage the household for a time. But the important word there was ‘measles’ not ‘housekeeper.’ Your sisters didn’t go to school like you, and they are not immune. Everyone in this house has had contact with the housekeeper. She will be the first of many to contract the disease.”

  Since he had no control over measles epidemics, he pondered for a moment. “I would suggest that you keep Mary and Lucy away from the sickroom. I’ll try to be back within the week. If they haven’t developed a rash by then, we’ll send them off to cousin William.”

  Mother’s shoulders sagged. “I suppose we can’t do more,” she said with a tinge of resignation. “But it’s inconvenient when we should be thinking about your wedding.”

  “We have plenty of time to think about my wedding.” Easy for him to say, when almost all he thought about these days was the bedding. He’d kept away from Della for too long as it was, without this unexpected trip wasting more of his time.

  He drove himself, with his groom beside him, travelling light for speed, and reached London in mood of resignation. When he arrived home again, his sisters would or would not have measles, and his house would be in chaos without his efficient housekeeper. He rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand. Unfortunately, he couldn’t control every situation by using simple logic.

  * * * *

  Della took the note that had been hand-delivered by a groom from Thornton Place to the addressee, her mother. The groom hadn’t waited. Mama started reading and her back stiffened. “Oh no!!” She fanned herself with the page.

  Della’s blood froze. “What is it?” she asked, holding her breath.

  “Measles. The housekeeper and poor little Mary. Lady Thornton wants you to know that Lady Mary won’t be helping you with the children, tomorrow. She is too feverish to leave her bed, but apparently she is worrying about you.”

  Della massaged her chest, easing the ridiculous thundering of her heart. Her first thought had been about Eden. “Let her know that I can manage alone, but I will miss her.”

  Mama arose with the letter in her hand and moved across to her desk and pulled down the lid. “I’ll write instantly. We should send flowers for the sickroom.”

  “I’ll gather a bouquet and take your note over. That way I can see if there is anything more we can do.”

  “They’ll be busy, since the housekeeper has come down with the infection too.”

  Della remembered her own bout of measles and how hot and achy she felt for at least a week. Her recovery period had seemed to take forever, though everything took forever when she was five years-old. Poor Mary must be crotchety if not outright miserable.

  After she had picked a bouquet, Della had a groom drive her to Thornton Place. Upon arrival, she stepped down from the brougham and used the front door knocker. Finally the door opened. The butler seemed to have run his hand over his head backward, and his hair stood like stacked hay.

  “Miss Hayden. My lady is with Lady Mary. I will tell her you are here if you would like to wait in the drawing room.”

  Della would have preferred not to disturb Lady Thornton if she was busy but the butler appeared to think she wouldn’t mind. Again she waited quite a while. Finally Eden’s mother, her eyes red and her hair drab and badly knotted, entered the room. She took both Della’s hands in hers. “Thank you for coming. Without the housekeeper, I am barely keeping afloat. I needed a moment of sanity.”

  “Shouldn’t Eden be here with you?”

  “He left telling me that I could manage. That’s because he has never managed a household rife with measles,” she added bitterly. “Men don’t. They leave and tell you that everything is under control, when they don’t know the half of it. His father was the same. As soon as the children were ill, he dashed off somewhere or other.”

  Della, suppressing a half-amused comment about Eden, urged the other woman over to a chair. “Sit. Tell me what you need.”

  “Another four pairs of hands. I’m trying to keep Lucy out of the way, because I want to send her to stay with my sister’s family without taking a single measle with her. And she keeps wanting to interfere. She wants to deliver possets to everyone and ...”

  “How many people in the household have measles?”

  “Three. The housekeeper, Mary, and a maid. Another maid who has had the measles is looking after everyone but Mary. She is my patient, but I’m also acting housekeeper.” Lady Thornton put her head in her hands, showing exactly why her knot was out of place
.

  “Since I don’t have the talent to be a housekeeper, I will look after Mary. You stay there and I will see about a meal for you, and a cup of tea. You look as though you could do with someone to take care of you. Eden would expect no less of me.” As a matter of fact, Della doubted the last.

  She had the idea that Eden wouldn’t expect a thing from her, knowing that she was normally too self-absorbed to do a thing for anyone. Since the household was in a flurry, she asked a footman to escort her to the kitchens.

  The cook, a short man with red cheeks and a sweaty forehead, also looked frazzled. Apparently when the housekeeper was out of action, the whole place fell apart. Hoping not to seem like a neighboring busybody, she asked to have a meal sent to the dining room for Lady Thornton and a tea-tray to be sent this instant to the drawing room. The cook waved his magic wooden spoon and the staff scurried about to prepare a tea tray. Her last act before she left the room, was to order a bath for Lady Thornton.

  After the tea arrived in the drawing room, she poured two cups. Lady Thornton burst into tears. “Thank you, Della. You are a dear sweet girl. If you can stay today, that would be a great help. I think once I have eaten, I will be ready to go on with Mary.”

  Della shook her head. “We’ll discuss that after you have had your tea, a meal, a bath, and a sleep. I’ll see Lucy first, and then go up to Mary.” She finished her tea and left Lady Thornton in the dining room alone, eating, while she found Lucy, who was in the library, her face wet with tears and a book on her lap.

  “It must be a very sad story.”

  Lucy glanced up. She took a huge breath. “Yes. Have you seen my mother?”

  “She is in the dining room eating the first meal she has had in a few days, I imagine. After that, she will have a bath and a good sleep. I’ve had measles and Eden would want me to care for his family. I see no point in keeping you here. You can go to my mother until you’re out of quarantine and then you can stay with your cousins. This could change when Eden arrives home, but for now this is the plan. If you pack your case now, my driver can take you and a note back with him.”