Читать книгу The Christmas Countess - Adrienne Basso - Страница 11

Rebecca and Daniel set out on their journey to the earl’s estate five days later, just after breakfast, in a brand-new, recently purchased carriage. It was well sprung and plushly appointed, but could have been filled with hay, for all that Rebecca cared. It was the prize at the end of her trip that she valued; the means to bring her there was unimportant.

“You should not have accepted this invitation without first consulting with me, Rebecca.”

“I know, Daniel. I am sorry.”

“This is a most inconvenient time for me to be away from London. Since I’ve decided to stay in England for at least a year, ’tis imperative that I establish a stronger business presence. Currently, I am in the middle of some very delicate negotiations for mining rights in Cornwall. This venture needs my complete attention in order to succeed.”

“Perhaps you can arrange to return to London for part of the time?”

“And leave you on your own with Hampton? Not on your life.”

“There will be a house full of guests, including the earl’s mother. I hardly think my reputation, or virtue, will be in jeopardy.” Rebecca rolled her eyes, but her brother was gazing out the window and did not see. “I appreciate your concern and support, but I am well beyond a time in my life when I need someone to protect me, to shield and shelter me from the world.”

Daniel huffed. “Maybe if someone had done a better job of that years ago, we would not be in this particular mess.”

Every muscle in Rebecca’s body stiffened, surprised to feel the hurt. He did not mean it the way it sounded, she told herself. He is merely annoyed and frustrated because of the inconvenience and interruption to his schedule. “I apologize again for not conferring with you before accepting the earl’s invitation, but I simply could not allow the opportunity to spend time with Lily to slip out of my grasp.”

Daniel turned to her. Rebecca saw a moment of embarrassed anger cross his expression. “Curse my wicked tongue. I do not mean to vent my foul temper on you. Forgive me.”

“Oh, Daniel.” Rebecca appreciated his apology, yet found herself compelled to explain further. “Please try to understand. I have no real desire to spend the holiday with Lord Hampton at his grand country estate. Truth be told, the very notion intimidates me. But this might be the only chance I will ever have to be with Lily and I know in my heart if I do not do this I shall waste far too many of the days ahead dwelling in bitterness.”

“Hush, now. Of course you must go. We must go.” Daniel darted her an embarrassed look, then awkwardly patted her hand. “I know it is necessary for you to seize this opportunity. Though no one who knew the truth of the matter would fault you for wallowing in pity and resentment. ’Tis monstrously unfair what our parents did.

“As for Great-Aunt Mildred, let me just say it is a blessing she is already deceased or else I would not be held accountable for my actions toward her.”

Rebecca heaved a small sigh and smiled at her brother. It did her bruised spirits good to have him play the champion for her. “I know this visit will not be easy for either of us, but at least it is a happy time of year. Celebrating Christmas often brings out the best in people.”

Daniel grimaced. “I find the holiday can oftentimes be a foolish combination of sentimentality and over-blown piety.”

“But you always loved Christmas when you were a boy.”

“That was a very long time ago, Becca.”

Knowing she would never win an argument on that subject, Rebecca felt it prudent to change the course of their conversation. “How long before we are there?” she asked.

“The coachman told me another hour.”

Rebecca straightened and looked out the carriage window. There had been a subtle transformation in the landscape that had previously escaped her notice. The more densely populated area outside the city proper had given way to a gently rolling countryside, the fields now bare, the meadows still boasting a few sparse patches of green.

The woodlands and copses were without leaves and the bareness was a fitting accompaniment to her mood. Though she had professed her great desire and determination for the necessity of this upcoming visit to her brother, Rebecca worried if she was doing the right thing.

Would it be easier or harder to leave her daughter once she had become acquainted with the little girl? Was she possibly making a most difficult situation even more intolerable? Would it be better to try to forget about Lily and simply move forward with her life?

And what of the earl? Was her attraction to him merely the natural female instinct of admiring a handsome, powerful man? Or was there a deeper, more complex connection that she could not begin to define or understand?

These thoughts plagued her for the next hour, but when they passed a sign announcing they had entered Kent, Rebecca threw off her worrisome mood. It was a lovely, charming, rural area, one that reminded her a bit of her home in Taunton. They rode through a prosperous village, with a fine selection of goods displayed in the shop windows and numerous, well-dressed people frequenting those establishments and her mood lightened further.

Beyond the shops were clusters of houses. Some of the dwellings had thatched roofs; others were constructed of stone and slate. All had bare gardens neatly tidied and dormant in the winter cold and there were hedgerows or painted white fences marking their boundaries. As the carriage reached the outskirts of the village proper, it clattered past an old Norman church, then turned onto a curving road that crept up a hill.

In the distance, Rebecca could see the manor house and its extensive grounds. The sun was high in the sky, its wintry rays brilliantly reflected in the many small-paned windows of the four-story house. There was smoke curling from the ten chimneys she counted, an inviting, welcoming sight.

Her excitement and delight held until they pulled into the long gravel drive, but then as she thought of the days ahead, the emotions in her gut began to churn. However was she going to manage?

A trio of liveried servants encircled the carriage even before it came to a complete stop in the courtyard. The men bustled efficiently around the coach, assisting Rebecca and Daniel from the interior, then organizing the luggage, horses, coachman and grooms with a skilled efficiency that bespoke of extensive experience with visitors.

The front door was opened by a stiff, unsmiling butler, but his severe greeting was softened by the immediate appearance of the housekeeper, an older woman dressed in black with a white lace cap perched on her head.

“Welcome, welcome, to Windmere manor,” she said with a happy smile. “’Tis always a delight to have guests among us, but never more so than during Christmastime. I am Mrs. Evans, the housekeeper. If you find yourself in need of anything, anything at all, during your stay, please be sure to ask me.”

There was no chance to reply, for the dowager countess next appeared. She too smiled with delight and welcomed them graciously, apologizing for her son’s absence by explaining he was away from the manor attending to estate business.

“We are so pleased that you were able to join us this year,” the dowager countess said. “We look forward to your joining in our outings and soirees. There is always something lively and delightful to do at Windmere during the holidays.”

“Splendid,” Daniel said with a congenial smile.

“I know you must be tired after your journey,” the dowager countess continued. “The servants will show you to your chambers. We are having an informal luncheon served at one o’clock. I look forward to seeing you both then.”

Rebecca smiled her thanks, pleased their arrival turned out to be slightly less of an ordeal than she had feared. A footman assisted Daniel while she followed the housekeeper up the grand staircase, through the hall, then down a long corridor.

After assuring the housekeeper she needed nothing further, Rebecca took a moment to enjoy the solitude in her bedchamber. As she walked by the four-poster bed, she could smell the lavender-scented sheets. The room was pleasantly appointed in shades of blue and cream, dominated by a subtle pattern of forget-me-nots in the wallpaper and repeated on the silk bed coverlet.

A small settee featuring the same floral pattern in brocade was at the foot of the bed, facing the hearth. There were two thick rugs, one blue, one cream, covering the floor.

In addition to a dressing table, with a matching mirror, and a large cherry armoire, there was a writing desk on the far wall and a plush blue chaise cozily positioned in front of the fireplace. Though Rebecca assumed all the bedchambers in this stately home were equally impressive, the accommodations chosen for her made her feel like an honored guest.

No sooner had Rebecca removed her bonnet than a housemaid arrived, setting a pitcher of hot water beside the porcelain basin, along with a pile of clean, fluffy towels.

“Whenever you are ready for luncheon, Miss Tremaine, just pull on the bell rope and someone will come and show you the way. Or you can have a tray prepared and brought to your room, if you prefer.”

“I think I shall join the rest of the guests after I have changed out of my traveling clothes,” Rebecca decided. “By any chance, do you know where my brother’s room is located?”

“The single male guests are housed in the west wing of the manor. Shall I have a footman bring him a message?”

“Yes, please. Ask my brother to fetch me before he goes downstairs.”

The housemaid curtsied, then left. As she departed, the personal maid that Daniel insisted Rebecca bring along arrived. Her presence momentarily flustered Rebecca, who was not used to such attention. For most of her life she had managed to dress and undress herself on her own. On the occasion that help was needed, the family’s housemaid, Anne, was pressed into service.

But Daniel was adamant that she arrive with a proper maid, and he with a proper valet, and Rebecca decided it was easier to agree than argue the point. Her maid, Maureen, was a pleasant middle-aged woman who seemed to have a considerable amount of experience in the position and knew a great deal about women’s fashions.

She tactfully suggested which gowns would be most appropriate to wear for the afternoon, and Rebecca selected a simple ivory lace-over-silk day gown. Maureen then deftly produced the accompanying accessories.

After fixing Rebecca’s hair, the maid set about unpacking the rest of Rebecca’s clothes, sorting out which gowns would need immediate attention and hanging the remainder in the armoire. Even though he had repeatedly assured her he could easily afford it, Rebecca felt a pang of guilt as she viewed the expensive new wardrobe that Daniel had insisted be ordered for the house party.

Once it was over, where in the world would she ever wear such lovely, fashionable garments? Perhaps she could repay her brother’s kindness and generosity by acting as his hostess, though she assumed the majority of his social interactions would involve his business ventures and might not even require the presence of a woman.

Deciding that was something she would broach when they were alone, Rebecca answered the knock at her door. It was Daniel, with a footman in tow, coming to escort her downstairs. The casual luncheon the dowager countess had mentioned was being served in the long portrait gallery and Daniel had wisely brought the servant along to guide the way.

When Rebecca and Daniel arrived, they were greeted by a crowd of nearly thirty people, though the gallery was so large and spacious it could have easily accommodated a hundred more.

Long, white linen–covered tables were laid out with covered silver trays and large platters of every type of food imaginable were placed upon them. Arrangements of red and white hothouse roses lent color and fragrance to the room, adding a festive touch. Guests were busy helping themselves to the artful buffet and then finding seats among the smaller round tables that were set near the windows so everyone could enjoy the view of the rolling countryside.

“Do you think the informal arrangement was planned for our benefit?” Daniel asked. “No doubt in this exalted company we would have been seated far below the salt at a formal setting.”

“Goodness, I had not even thought about it,” Rebecca replied, wishing her brother had not found yet another thing for her to feel nervous about.

Her eyes anxiously scanned the room and she was further disappointed to discover there were no children in attendance. It was not unexpected, yet she had hoped for a chance to see Lily again as soon as possible.

They joined the group clustered around the buffet, made their selections and started toward one of the round tables when they were waylaid by a middle-aged man carrying two goblets of wine.

“Tremaine! What a delightful surprise. I had no idea you would be here.”

“Lord Bailey, hello. This is a lucky occurrence. May I present my sister, Miss Rebecca Tremaine.”

“Charmed.” Lord Bailey bowed elegantly from the waist, simultaneously lifting the goblets filled with wine higher in the air. Rebecca was impressed that he did not spill a drop.

“Won’t you join us? Selby and Reynolds are here too. If you have a mind, we’d like to discuss that mining operation in Cornwall. We all have questions we are hoping you can answer. You are invited too, Miss Tremaine, though I cannot vouch for how interesting you will find our conversation.”

Rebecca noticed Daniel glance longingly at the table filled with men. He would not willingly abandon her and yet she thought it might be the best thing for his mood if he spent some time talking business.

“You go ahead, Daniel. I have spied Lady Marion on the other side of the room and will happily join her.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes, go.” She smiled with encouragement, then excused herself and deliberately headed toward the table where Lady Marion and another woman were seated before she could lose her courage.

“Miss Tremaine, you are here!” Lady Marion exclaimed. “How delightful. Please, take a seat.”

The words were courteously spoken, but the grin on Lady Marion’s face was genuine and welcoming, making the invitation sincere. She introduced the woman seated next to her as Lady Charlotte, the earl’s sister. She was a plain-featured woman, with an oval face and brown hair that was topped by a lace-edged spinster’s cap.

After a breathless greeting, Lady Charlotte shyly cast her hazel eyes down to her plate. But her smile had been sweet and kind. Rebecca gratefully joined them.

All the food that had been piled on her dish looked appetizing, but Rebecca found her nerves compelled her to push the food about on her plate while making a pretense of eating. Fortunately, the other two women did not appear to notice.

“I do hope that Cameron has invited some eligible gentlemen this year,” Lady Marion said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Christmas is one of the best times of year to indulge in some serious matchmaking.”

“Not with me!” Lady Charlotte looked horrified at the notion.

“Of course with you. And with Miss Tremaine.”

Rebecca was glad she had not just put a fork filled with beef in her mouth, for she surely would have choked.

“But it is December,” Lady Charlotte sputtered. “The marriage mart has ended.”

“Don’t be so silly. Husband hunting is a year-round pastime,” Lady Marion insisted. “Thankfully, there are not too many young misses in attendance, which makes it much better.”

“Not for me.” Lady Charlotte met Rebecca’s eyes with a panic-stricken gaze. “If there were a few pretty young girls here you would concentrate your efforts on them and shift your attention away from me.”

“And me,” Rebecca chimed in, hoping Lady Marion was teasing. The very idea of being matched with any of these exalted gentlemen set her teeth on edge.

“Oh, posh, young misses can be so boring and grating on the nerves,” Lady Marion said. “Most have a tendency to giggle and titter like hens around a rooster when in the company of an eligible man. ’Tis maddening and most unbecoming.”

“Ah, I believe we have found our escape from this matchmaking nightmare, Lady Charlotte. We need to learn to giggle and titter.” Rebecca smiled, more confident now that Lady Marion was being lighthearted and amusing.

“Titter?” Lady Charlotte repeated, lowering her gaze. “Oh, dear.”

“Yes, and we must learn to cackle also, for a loud cackle will surely drive everyone in the vicinity mad,” Rebecca added, warming to the spirit of fun.

She turned to Lady Charlotte and noticed a slight grin appear. Rebecca flashed her an encouraging, reassuring smile. Lady Charlotte sat up a fraction in her chair.

“There now, you have been given fair warning, Marion,” Lady Charlotte said. “If you persist on your matchmaking quest, Miss Tremaine and I will be forced to take drastic action.”

Lady Marion’s gaze narrowed. “I see that you are both planning to be difficult, but that will not deter me,” she replied. “You forget, but I was arguably the most impossible debutante for more Seasons than I can recall. My mother used to repeatedly tell me it was her greatest fear that I would never have a home of my own.”

“That is because she knew how bossy you can be,” Lady Charlotte said with a shy grin. “She needed you to be in charge of your household in order to gain peace within her own home.”

“Oh, how true.” Lady Marion laughed. “But Mother also wanted me to have my own happiness.”

Rebecca looked at Lady Marion. “Not every woman’s happiness is found with a man.”

“Another excellent point, Miss Tremaine, which proves that in addition to your beauty and charm, your intelligence is but one more of your outstanding qualities.”

“Must I again remind you that it is December?” Lady Charlotte interrupted.

“Oh, fiddle. Courtship is a sport that is conducive to any time of year.”

“And a husband is the prize?” Lady Charlotte squeaked.

“In a manner of speaking.” Lady Marion took a bite of her fish and chewed thoughtfully. “Yet I prefer to think of a husband as the trophy.”

“That would look best when displayed on a mantel?” Rebecca asked.

“Since you are unmarried ladies, I shall not say precisely where, and in what condition, a husband looks best, though I will give you a strong hint and remark that a prime location is above stairs. Behind a closed bedchamber door.”

Rebecca was so surprised she let her fork go limp. The sizable serving of creamed potatoes that was resting there slid off, missed her plate and dropped on to the linen tablecloth. Lady Charlotte, she noted, had blushed to the roots of her hair.

“Marion, you are wicked!” Lady Charlotte exclaimed.

“I am indeed and it is one of my finest qualities. Richard tells me so all the time.”

After a heartbeat of stunned silence, all three women burst into laughter.

“You truly must have set the ton on its ear,” Rebecca said. “I do believe I would have enjoyed seeing you in action.”

“I was willfully incorrigible, truly a sight to behold,” Lady Marion admitted modestly. “But then I met Richard and everything changed.”

“How?” Rebecca wanted to know.

“I fell in love. I fought it at first, rather spiritedly. But in the end I discovered a fundamental truth. No matter how hard you try, you cannot control love. It controls you. The heart wants what it wants. And my heart wanted Richard.”

“It was terribly romantic,” Lady Charlotte said with an envious sigh. “And a great relief to the family to have you safely wed at long last.”

“Ha! They are mainly relieved that I am Richard’s problem now and not theirs,” Lady Marion exclaimed.

“Well, yes there is that too,” Lady Charlotte concurred and all three women burst into another round of laughter.

They finished their meal in companionable conversation. Lady Marion was droll and witty, while Lady Charlotte proved to be a gentle foil to her cousin’s rapier tongue. Rebecca was surprised to find herself enjoying the company very much. It had been years since she had indulged in fun, female dialog, and she realized she missed the unique perspective and companionship that could be found among women similar in age.

Yet as much as she was enjoying their company, Rebecca declined Lady Marion’s invitation to join her and the larger group of women who were anxious to engage in holiday activity planning. Lady Charlotte also declined to join the group in the green salon and took her leave. Rebecca commented that she was feeling slightly fatigued from the trip and would probably indulge in a nap.

It was, of course, a lie. Knowing that Lily was so close would make it impossible to sleep, no matter how exhausted Rebecca felt. But she could hardly barge into the nursery at this time of day. During lunch Lady Charlotte had mentioned it was filled to near bursting with children, since all the guests were bringing their entire families. What possible, legitimate reason could Rebecca give for wanting to be among all that chaos?

She was nearing the staircase when she heard her name called. Rebecca turned to see the earl hailing her. As he drew near, she was briefly distracted by his handsome, chiseled features, his wide shoulders and firmly muscled physique. She was confused too, because her reaction to him was almost physical. Her heart thumped in an uneven rhythm, the breath rushed from her lungs, the foyer suddenly seemed too stuffy and warm.

Nerves? Fear? Or something else that was too dangerous, too distressing to acknowledge.

The sophisticated elegance she so naturally associated with him was once again in evidence this afternoon, which was odd given his casual, country attire. With no small measure of regret, she concluded he was one of those rare individuals blessed with the confidence, good looks and poise that put women at a disadvantage.

“I apologize for not greeting you earlier, Miss Tremaine. Estate business called me away.”

“Your mother kindly explained.”

“Have you eaten?”

“Yes, with Lady Marion, and your sister Charlotte. Everything was lovely.”

“Good.” He glanced at the staircase, then back at her. “And now?”

Rebecca felt a pang of guilt. He was trying to give her the benefit of the doubt and thus refused to accuse her outright of trying to find Lily, but he must be wondering where she was heading at this time of the day. “I thought I might rest in my chamber. The journey from London was tiring.”

“Pity. I was hoping to persuade you to join me in the nursery.”

Her hopes soared. Rebecca gazed up at the earl, testing his sincerity. His expression was unreadable, yet in truth his motives did not matter. As she had previously told him, it was his actions that interested her.

“Of course I would like to visit the nursery. I assume Lily will be there?”

“She should be. If she hasn’t run off from Mrs. James.”

Rebecca’s eyes widened in concern. “Does she do that often? Run away from her governess? It can be dangerous, you know.”

The earl smiled. “She enjoys more freedom here in the country than when we are in town, but whenever she “hides” she does so within the house. She is always safe.”

Rebecca nodded in relief. The thought of Lily in any sort of peril frightened her more than she could say.

Silently, they climbed to the top floor of the manor, the earl leading the way. As they neared their destination, Rebecca could hear the shrieks of laughter on the other side of the closed nursery door. The instant the earl opened it, silence fell. A multitude of small heads jerked up, anxious to see if it was another young friend coming to join in their playtime.

Discovering it was only two adults, most of the youngsters returned to their activities. Several were congregated in the center of the room around an impressive castle they were constructing out of painted wooden bricks. Others were sitting together at tables, a few of the younger children were contentedly nestled on the laps of their nurses.

Rebecca counted nine children before the earsplitting cry of “Papa!” cut through the air.

Lily hurled herself at the earl, literally jumping into his arms. He caught her easily and swung her high.

“She enjoys being dramatic,” he explained as he carefully set the little girl back on her feet.

Well, she certainly does not get that from me, Rebecca thought.

“You are the lady with the brooch,” Lily said. “Did you find it at the park?”

“Alas, no, but I do believe I left it somewhere else,” Rebecca answered, feeling so pleased that Lily had remembered her. “Thank you for taking the time to help me search.”

Lily squared her shoulders. “I wanted so badly to find it before my friend, Jane. She looked again the next day, you know, but Mrs. James wouldn’t take me to the park because we had to come to Windmere.”

Hmm, dramatic and competitive, Rebecca thought, unsure about the origins of those qualities. She wondered what other things she would discover about the child, but then her attention was momentarily diverted from Lily by a loud commotion in the center of the nursery.

The earl was playing with a boy she judged to be seven or eight years old. The child was yelling and laughing with delight as Lord Hampton dangled him upside down. Beside them, two others were jumping with excitement, anxiously waiting their turn. Seeing all the fuss, several of the other boys abandoned the castle building and crept closer.

The sizeable group crowded in and the earl set himself on his knees. Making a menacing growl deep in the back of his throat, he spread his arms wide and swept up four of them. There were squeals of delight and excitement as they wrestled on the thick rug with great merriment, while the various nurses and governesses regarded the earl with an amused expression.

Rebecca was fairly amazed at the sight, highly doubting she would have been so calm if someone had riled her charges to this extent. Still, she was grateful for the distraction of noise and chaos, for it gave her time to gather herself.

She glanced over at Lily and a rush of longing filled her. Her heart was racing as she stared into a face that seemed so new and yet so familiar. This was her daughter. Her baby. There was joy, but there was sorrow.

Rebecca’s anticipation of this moment mingled strongly with a deep feeling of apprehension. Though more than anything she longed to see Lily, to spend time with her, the simple act of starting a conversation felt daunting. Fortunately the little girl did not have the same problem.

“Papa likes to play rough,” Lily explained. “’Tis something that boys do.” She shook her head as if puzzled by the entire concept.

“I remember my brother Daniel being much the same way,” Rebecca offered.

“You have a brother?” Lily asked. “Is he a little boy?”

“No. He is older.”

“Oh.” Lily shrugged with disappointment. “No matter. There are far too many boys here already.”

Rebecca glanced over at the earl, who by now had every male in the nursery under his spell. They were climbing on, over and under him, clinging to his back with arms clasped around his neck, tugging on his hair, laughing. It struck her how comfortable he appeared, how much he was obviously enjoying himself. Clearly, he was a man who should father many children, for he seemed to like them a great deal.

“Will you play with me?” Lily asked. “I have lots of paper dolls with pretty clothes. Nothing new, because Christmas hasn’t come. Papa will buy me all the latest fashions to dress my paper dolls, and my real dolls too, but we can play with the old clothes today.”

Rebecca swallowed hard, touched by Lily’s invitation. “That sounds like fun.”

Lily led her to a child-size table with two matching chairs. Gingerly, Rebecca sat in one, hoping it would hold her weight, while Lily retrieved her toys. She watched closely as the little girl opened the different boxes and carefully removed the contents.

Rebecca felt a tightness suddenly rise inside her. A powerful sense of regret for all that she had missed in Lily’s life, a bitter resentment at what had been so cruelly stolen from her. Pushing the feelings aside, she attempted a smile. Now was not the time to dwell on the unfairness of the past. She must seize this opportunity and make the most of it.

“This is Little Fanny,” Lily explained as she held out one of the paper figures. “She has five different hats.”

“She is pretty,” Rebecca remarked.

Lily shrugged. “Queen Victoria has much prettier clothes and lots of extra things, because she is very special. I like her best. Here is my ballerina, Marie. I will be Queen Victoria. Who do you want to be?”

“You decide.”

The child’s answering smile let Rebecca know she had said the right thing. They began an imaginary game with the queen and the ballerina and Rebecca had to agree that Queen Victoria did have an extraordinary wardrobe, one that could easily rival the silken fashions worn by real ladies. She had many outfits with a stunning array of accessories, a few of which Rebecca could not identify. And her clothes were not just made of paper, there were bits of cloth, real lace and tissue paper attached to several of the ball gowns.

Alas, poor Marie’s clothes were far simpler, though her dancing outfits were very frilly. Time flew by as Lily directed their play, deciding what was happening, where the dolls were going, what they were going to wear. Rebecca was delighted to play along, taking it all in, reveling in the chance to be with her daughter.

Secretly, Rebecca had been terrified that Lily would not like her. The uncertainty was not completely gone, but she was less worried, more confident. In gratitude, she turned to properly thank the earl for his generosity in allowing her this opportunity. But he had already left the nursery.