The Artful Match

by Jennifer Delamere

  As they alighted from the carriage, Cara was aware that many of the servants were looking at her curiously. “This is Miss Bernay,” Henry informed them. “She will be our guest for the next several weeks.”

  Being familiar with how country houses were run, Cara easily identified the butler and the housekeeper. They stepped forward, and Henry introduced them as Mr. Jensen and Mrs. Walker.

  “His lordship sent us word you were coming,” said Mrs. Walker. To Henry, she added, “I have arranged the blue room in the west wing, as you directed, sir.”

  “But that’s the guest wing!” Amelia protested. “Isn’t Miss Bernay going to be near me?” She turned her eyes toward the damaged east wing and must have realized she wasn’t returning to her regular room, even as Henry’s next words confirmed it.

  “We are all staying in the guest wing, Amelia. Miss Bernay’s room will be next to yours. You are staying in the other blue room, the one with a sitting room attached. We have placed toys and books there, so it will make a nice little nursery for now.”

  “Oh.” Amelia looked distinctly unimpressed. And disappointed.

  “It will only be for another month or so,” Henry continued. “You and Miss Bernay will have that top floor to yourselves. The rest of us will stay on the floor below.”

  “Let’s go inside,” Langham suggested. “It’s too hot out here, and I’m famished. Is there luncheon?”

  “Yes, sir,” Mrs. Walker replied. “There is a cold spread set out in the small dining room for you to partake of whenever you are ready.”

  The small dining room. This house was grand enough to have two dining rooms. Cara was still marveling over this as they entered the house.

  The front hall was everything she had imagined and more. A broad staircase with a carved banister swept up to a wide landing and then turned right, rising again out of sight to the next floor. The only thing out of place was an unmistakable smell of fresh paint and plaster.

  “The layout of these looks different,” Langham observed, indicating the many paintings that lined the foyer and the wide staircase.

  “It might not be exactly the same as before,” Henry answered. “Everything was taken down and cleaned while the new wallpaper was put up.”

  As they ascended the staircase, Cara allowed her fingers to trail along the banister. The varnish on the wood smelled fresh, yet the solid dark wood beneath her fingertips spoke of centuries of history. So did the paintings. The clothing styles in the portraits stretched back to the days of Charles II. Cara wished she could pause and study each one. She told herself there would be time for that later, and joy bubbled up within her.

  Henry and Langham left them at the second floor. “Mrs. Walker will show you and Amelia to your rooms,” Henry said.

  “I know the way,” Amelia answered. When they reached the third floor, she made a beeline for the far end of the hall. She hurried through the doorway and then disappeared to the right, presumably into the sitting room. Cara supposed she wanted to check on her toys and other things.

  “Here’s your room, miss,” said Mrs. Walker, ushering her into the adjacent room. “I hope you’ll find it comfortable.”

  Cara paused just inside the door, taking it in with delight. “Yes, I’m sure I will.” From the four-poster bed to the massive oak wardrobe to the pretty dressing table near the wide window, the room spoke of elegance and ease.

  The household staff was not only large, but efficient. Cara’s trunk was already in the room, and a maid was unpacking it for her, lifting out the dresses. She gave Cara a smile and a curtsy.

  “I understand you have brought no lady’s maid, miss,” said Mrs. Walker. “I’ve instructed Josie to help you as much as you need.”

  Cara gave them both warm thanks, and Mrs. Walker left.

  “Shall I press this one for dinner tonight, miss?” Josie held up Cara’s best blue gown.

  “Thank you, Josie. That’s very good of you.”

  Josie gave a little smile at Cara’s words. Perhaps other guests had been more demanding or curt. It was easy for Cara to be kind; she’d been in Josie’s position as a servant most of her adult life.

  Somehow, in the midst of her elation, Cara remembered to send up a quiet prayer of thankfulness to God for bringing her here. She walked over to the window and looked out at the wide lawn below. It was peaceful, green, and open. A landscape that spoke to her of a boundless future.

  CHAPTER

  21

  HENRY WAS THE FIRST to arrive in the parlor before dinner. He was not surprised at this. Langham never arrived anywhere on time. Tonight, Henry had sent Jensen to deliver a reminder that there was a guest in the house and Langham should not be late. Whether that did any good remained to be seen.

  He supposed Cara was still busy with Amelia, or perhaps getting dressed for dinner. His mother was always punctual, but he’d been to enough house parties to know this was not the norm. Those ladies took their time getting every detail of their evening attire just right. Cara no doubt fell prey to the same vanities.

  As he waited, he thought over the two very different letters in his stack of correspondence this afternoon. The first, from his mother, had related the news that she would be delayed another week because she’d been invited to a house party on the Isle of Wight. The Prince of Wales would be the premier guest, so naturally his mother had accepted the invitation. She did not approve of His Royal Highness’s dissolute manner of living, but royalty was royalty, and someday he would be their king. With the Countess of Morestowe, protocol and pragmatism always won out over personal preference.

  One benefit of her change of plans would be a greater likelihood of calm here at the estate. Amelia and Langham would be happy about the countess’s absence. Henry sighed. He did not like that there was so much friction in the family, but it was a problem he did not know how to solve.

  The second letter was from Jacob. It had been far more welcome, to be honest. Jacob was coming to Morestowe and would accompany Henry on his visit to Lord Nigel Hayward’s estate.

  The footman standing at the parlor door inclined his head as someone approached from the hallway. Henry stood, and a moment later, Cara entered the room.

  Her gown was simple, but it was a flattering shade of blue that not only matched her eyes but took them to a deeper hue. Her hair was pinned up in a manner more elaborate than usual. The effect was that she looked elegant in an unpretentious way.

  “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting.” She glanced around the room. “Langham isn’t here yet?”

  Henry resisted the urge to snort. “No.”

  Jensen entered the room. “I have a message from Mr. Burke, your lordship. He is not well and will not be coming down to dinner.”

  Henry’s irritation flared at this news. “He was perfectly fine this afternoon.”

  Cara, on the other hand, looked concerned. “I suppose it is another of his headaches?”

  The butler gave a nod in response.

  “He did tell me those things could come on suddenly,” she said. “Perhaps it was caused by the journey. All that jostling and smoke.”

  Henry had another theory. “Excuse me,” he said to Cara and left the parlor, motioning for Jensen to follow.

  Once the two of them were in the hallway, Henry said quietly, “What has Mr. Burke brought in his bags?” He knew the butler would understand what he was asking and why.

  “We don’t know for sure, your lordship. There was nothing unusual among his clothing and personal items. However, he did not allow the footman to unpack several smaller bags, which he said contained art supplies that he would take to the dower house himself.”

  Henry could imagine what might be in those bags besides art supplies. There would be a range of “medicines” to treat his headaches. Some could be dangerous if taken too liberally—which Langham could be counted upon to do. “Keep an eye on him, will you? Take up some tea or broth every hour or so, or use whatever reason you can find to enter his room on a regular
basis.”

  Surveillance on Langham was not a pleasant task. He could be difficult to deal with when he didn’t feel well. Fortunately, Jensen had plenty of experience. He gave Henry an understanding nod. “Certainly, sir.”

  Jensen was about to walk toward the kitchens to collect the first round of tea when Cara called out, “Excuse me. I don’t mean to interrupt, but I’ve had an idea.”

  Henry turned to see her standing in the doorway to the parlor. He hoped she hadn’t overheard his instructions to Jensen. “Yes?”

  “I’ve been thinking about a remedy that my sister Julia recommends. She’s a nurse and will soon be a doctor.” This explanation was provided for the butler, who raised his eyebrows fractionally in surprise. “She recommends massaging the temples and back of the neck with a mixture of lavender and peppermint oil. Perhaps that could help Langham.”

  Although Henry doubted this could be a useful remedy, he sent a glance toward the butler. “Jensen, do we stock such things?”

  “I can ask the housekeeper, your lordship.”

  “Thank you.” The butler thus dispatched, Henry considered what to do next. There was no point returning to the parlor, so he offered his arm to Cara. “As we are all here, we may as well go in to dinner.”

  As they walked toward the dining room, Henry was vividly aware of the precariousness of his situation. He would be dining alone with a young female who had come as a guest to this house without a chaperone or escort of any kind. The detailed rules of society had never been his primary concern in life, and yet as the Earl of Morestowe, he did have a certain reputation to uphold. From the point of view of propriety, this was the very reason they ought not to have brought Cara here. They had justified it in a number of ways: she was here as the guest of the Burke family as a whole, not one person in particular; she was studying to be a painter and therefore a colleague of Langham’s; she was here to offer temporary help and guidance with Amelia.

  None of those reasons had taken into account Langham’s unreliability and his tendency to disappear for days on end. Henry hoped the “headaches” would not turn into multiday affairs, as they often did. For now, he would simply make sure there was a footman or other servant in the room with him and Cara at all times. This was for her protection as well. She might be of lower-class background, but that didn’t matter. He would not do anything that could damage a lady’s reputation. Some might say that, as Cara had recently been paid to model in questionable clothing for a public painting, she had already crossed a line of honor. To Henry’s mind, that was all the more reason to prevent any whiff of scandal arising from her visit here.

  When they reached the dining room, Henry seated Cara. It was easily done, without a trace of the awkwardness he had experienced when seating some ladies at dinner parties. Where had she learned this subtle art? Some women simply had a natural grace. Olivia had been an example of that. Even now, after all these years, Henry felt the familiar grip around his heart at the thought of her.

  He waited until the first course had been served before opening any conversation besides that related to the meal service. He thought it best to keep to the usual banal topics. “Are you finding your accommodation comfortable?”

  “Oh yes, it’s lovely. A maid helped me unpack, so that took no time at all. Then I visited Amelia’s room. She is sad not to be in her familiar nursery, but was mollified at seeing so many new playthings.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. We had to replace all her books and toys, which were destroyed in the fire. I wasn’t able to get exact copies of everything, but I did the best I could.” He had been concerned that Amelia would find an excuse to throw another tantrum. Cara must have found a way to keep the child’s mind occupied. “I suppose you asked her to show you everything?”

  “Actually, she was feeling energetic despite our long journey from London, so we took a walk around the grounds. Then we went to the stables. She showed me exactly which stall she expects to keep her new pony in. The groom, Mr. Hart, was pleased to hear there would be a new addition soon.” She paused to take a sip from her water glass, but Henry could see a smile playing around her lips.

  “I did tell Amelia it might not happen right away. I hope she has retained that bit of information.”

  “Children are notorious for their selective memory,” Cara said. “You might need to clarify that point again.”

  “I presume she remembers that in the meantime there will be art lessons?”

  “Oh yes!” Cara looked as excited as a child herself. “First thing tomorrow, we’ll go to the dower house to set up our studio.”

  “I wouldn’t plan to get too early of a start. Not if Langham is involved. Especially as he is experiencing one of his, er, headaches.”

  “Perhaps it won’t linger. We must ask the butler how he is getting on—oh, look, there he is.”

  Jensen was indeed just entering the dining room. “Mrs. Walker informs me that we have both of the requested items on hand, sir. Shall I take them to Mr. Burke?”

  “That would be wonderful!” Cara said, even though Jensen had addressed himself to Henry. “Please tell him what I said about applying it to his temples and the back of his neck. It can be applied directly, or you can put it on a cotton cloth first. Perhaps a valet or footman can help administer it?”

  Henry was just glad she hadn’t offered to do it herself. She seemed willing to dive into everything and did not seem aware of any impropriety.

  Jensen looked to Henry for approval. Henry nodded. “Very good, sir,” Jensen said and left the room.

  Cara smiled. “If Langham will follow those instructions, I feel certain he’ll be good as new by tomorrow.”

  “If not, I’m afraid you’ll be on your own. I’ll be busy in the morning with other things.” He and Mr. Thompson were reviewing the ongoing renovation work, plus he wanted to tweak the prospectus he planned to give to Hayward. Although Cara was technically a guest, Henry had no time to organize a schedule of activities for her. She needed to know that, for the most part, she and Amelia would have to entertain themselves.

  “We’ll muddle through just fine,” Cara assured him. “We popped into the dower house today, and I can see why Langham says it has excellent potential for a studio. The front room is so open and bright.”

  “Tomorrow afternoon we’ll be receiving another visitor here. Jacob Reese is a friend of mine. He owns a cast-iron business. His company is responsible for the new radiators we’re installing throughout the house.”

  “Like the one in my bedroom? I’ve never seen a radiator with such lovely designs on it before.”

  Henry nodded, pleased she had noticed. He supposed that as an artist, she would have an eye for details like that.

  “It seems luxurious to have reliable heat,” she went on. “So much better than a fireplace.”

  “Less dangerous, too.” If this observation came out too wryly, Henry couldn’t be blamed. That night when half the house was in flames and he was frantic to ensure his family and servants were all safe was something he hoped never to live through again.

  Understanding flickered in Cara’s eyes. She’d seen a portion of the damage that had been done and could no doubt imagine the rest.

  Henry wasn’t going to allow the conversation to move into morbid territory. Changing to a more conversational tone, he said, “Mr. Reese’s company makes other items as well. Tomorrow he’s bringing new benches for the garden. We’ll also discuss the possibility of installing a fountain.”

  “A fountain! Amelia will be overjoyed.”

  “She does like water,” Henry agreed. “It won’t rival the ones at the Crystal Palace, but it will have a pool large enough for her to float her toy boat.”

  “You’re a very conscientious guardian to provide things to make Amelia happy.”

  She gave him a look of admiration that he wasn’t sure he deserved. He hoped he wasn’t spoiling the child. His mother had accused him of this. Yet Cara thought he was doing good things for Amelia,
and Henry found he was inclined to give her opinion more weight.

  He just wished she wasn’t looking at him with such radiance. It made him supremely uncomfortable.

  There was a pause in the conversation as the servants brought out the next course. Henry was glad Jacob was coming tomorrow. With three people at the dinner table, it would feel more like a party and less intimate. He was sure Jacob would not be critical of Cara’s presence, especially after Henry explained why she had come. His friend knew all about Henry’s troubles with his ward and his brother.

  Henry noticed, as he had at the previous course, that there was a tiny lag between when he picked up his silverware and when Cara did. She seemed to be watching him for clues. Perhaps she’d never eaten at such an elaborately set table. The staff had been trained by the countess to always put on their best whenever a guest was in the house, but in this case, Henry worried whether Cara would feel out of her depth. If she was daunted, though, she didn’t show it. He even thought she gave a little sigh of satisfaction when, after she had placed her soup spoon in her empty bowl at exactly the same angle as Henry had done, the footman had understood the sign and deftly whisked it away. No doubt she thought it a luxury to be waited on in such a fashion.

  He was brought out of his musings by Cara’s next statement. “Langham mentioned your friend. He said you met Mr. Reese when you were both students at Oxford.”

  If Langham had told her about Jacob, he’d surely told her about Olivia. The delicate fish he was eating stuck in his throat. He took a sip of wine to force it down.

  Sure enough, Cara said, “Langham told me Mr. Reese had a sister, whom you also knew.”

  Henry’s grip tightened around his glass. “Yes. She died some years back.”

  That was all he was going to say about it. Even if he were inclined to say more—which he wasn’t—he wouldn’t do it at dinner with the servants nearby. If there was one thing Henry guarded fiercely, it was keeping his private life private.

  Cara’s expression softened with sadness, but Henry did not like sympathy of any kind directed at him. Especially as it confirmed that Langham had told her too much about Olivia and about Henry’s feelings for her.