Читать книгу Reunited With Her Viscount Protector - Mary Brendan, Mary Brendan - Страница 9

‘You little scamp! Come back here!’

Mrs Fenton picked up her lavender skirts and chased the shrieking child on to the pathway. She soon caught up with him and hoisted him off his feet in a cuddle. ‘You are far too nimble for me. You win again, Master Bernard.’ She placed a kiss on his soft cheek.

‘Oh, stop it, Bernie. You will tire poor Auntie Dawn out and she won’t come again to play with you,’ the Countess of Houndsmere said, issuing a warning to her giggling son.

‘Of course I will come. I love our games, don’t I, Bernie?’ Dawn put the wriggling child back on to the flagstones.

After his game of chase, Master Bernard still had plenty of energy; his godmother, however, was holding the stitch in her side and fanning herself with a hand. The boy immediately dashed off to throw a ball across the emerald lawn for two wolfhound puppies to squabble over. Dawn strolled over to sit with her friend in the shade and have a well-earned rest.

A table and chairs had been set up under the dipping broad boughs of a magnificent plane tree in the grounds of a mansion in Grosvenor Square. Upon the table was the finest rose-patterned porcelain and a tray upon which reposed silverware for making tea. Two maids hovered close by. They attended to refreshments and to tilt parasols this way and that to ensure the ladies were shielded from any rogue sunbeams infiltrating the whispering greenery.

Dawn sat down next to the Countess, who was cooling her pink cheeks with a fan of ivory and lace. Leaning closer to her friend, Dawn benefited from some wafted air.

‘You make me feel very old, Dawn. I wish I could still charge about like that,’ Emma complained, whipping the fan to and fro with increased vigour.

‘You can, my dear...just not while you are carrying a baby. And as I am the elder of us by two months, please never again mention our advancing years or I will feel quite miserable.’ Dawn sat back comfortably, then took her friend’s hand in hers, giving her a cheeky smile. ‘Come, we are neither of us yet in our dotage, Em, at the grand age of twenty-nine.’

‘I feel quite ancient sometimes, you know, when my back aches.’ Emma shifted on the seat as her unborn child made its presence known by giving her a kick.

‘When you are rocking your new babe you will forget you ever had these twinges.’ Dawn sighed. ‘I wish I could take my godson home with me. I love having Bernie’s company. You are so lucky to have such a handsome son and another little one on the way.’ She smoothed a hand over the small bump beneath her friend’s silk gown. ‘Girl or boy...what do you think?’

Emma cocked her head, a smile on her lips. ‘I really don’t mind as long as all fingers and toes are present.’ She felt guilty now for having moaned about feeling uncomfortable. Indeed, she was fortunate to have her family: Dawn had miscarried a child and then been denied the chance of another when her husband had died in an accident a short while later.

The tea was poured and distributed and young Bernard rushed up to enjoy a glass of cordial and some biscuits. He sat on the grass at his mother’s side, the faithful puppies stretched out at his feet.

‘Don’t feed them biscuits, dear,’ his mama gently cautioned. ‘Your papa will not like it if they get fat.’ She added an aside for Dawn’s hearing, ‘He doesn’t seem to mind me getting rounder, though.’

‘I hope you are not going to boast about your handsome husband chasing you around your bedchamber every night.’

‘Indeed, he does not,’ Emma returned with a wink. ‘I never run away...’

They chuckled and Dawn sipped her tea. The two women had known each other since childhood and had always shared their good and bad times with one another. A bit of unladylike chat was nothing new for them either. But wistfulness settled on Dawn whenever she dwelt on her friend’s blissful happiness. She loved Emma too much to feel jealous. Besides, Emma had suffered her share of misfortune before the Earl of Houndsmere fell in love with her and put everything right for Emma’s embattled family.

Dawn’s own marriage had been different: a convenient match. When Thomas Fenton had proposed to her, he had been open and honest in his reasons for doing so. He was a widower and needed a wife to care for his teenage daughter and guide her into womanhood. Dawn had been equally honest when accepting him. Her father had remarried a woman with whom she rarely saw eye to eye. It had been the right time to move out from beneath Mr Sanders’s roof and let the middle-aged newlyweds enjoy a harmonious atmosphere. Her bossy stepmother would have driven her to distraction. Nevertheless Julia was good for her father, keeping an eye on his health and his over-imbibing. So in a most timely fashion fate had intervened and provided a practical solution. A short while after Thomas proposed, Dawn had become Mrs Fenton.

No grand passion, but in her own way she had grown fond of her husband and of her stepdaughter. They would have continued to rub along tolerably well as a little family if he had stayed in London rather than travelling on treacherous roads to spend Christmas with his wife and daughter. The carriage had overturned on the way to their Essex retreat and Thomas had perished.

‘Papa!’ Bernard leapt to his feet and started to race across the grass towards the house as he noticed his father approaching along the path.

The Earl of Houndsmere swept his son into his arms, then carried on towards them. He bent to kiss his wife’s flushed cheek.

‘This is a nice surprise,’ he said to Dawn.

‘As it is to see you, Lance,’ Dawn returned on a smile.

‘Will you stay and dine? I have invited some friends to come later.’

‘Oh, do have dinner with us, Dawn,’ Emma pleaded before turning to her husband. ‘Who have you asked?’

‘My sister and brother-in-law and I believe Jack might put in an appearance, but then with Jack you never quite know...’

‘Jack?’ the Countess echoed on a frown. ‘You don’t mean Jack Valance?’

‘I most certainly do.’

‘But...is he back from his travels?’ Emma exclaimed.

‘His ship docked a few weeks ago. Valance is home to stay, having found his feet and his fortune. I’ll be glad to settle down for a good long chat with him over a bottle of cognac this evening.’ Lance deposited his wriggling son on the turf.

Emma turned a sparkling gaze on Dawn. ‘Oh, you must remember Jack. He is Lance’s best friend. Many years ago we went for a drive with him in Hyde Park and your stepmother came, too.’

‘Yes, I do remember him,’ Dawn said mildly. ‘Thank you for the invitation, but I won’t stay for dinner.’

The Earl abandoned the ladies to go with his son, dragging on his hand to make him play chase. Lance dodged to and fro to escape the puppies and Bernard jumping up at him, leaving his wife to attempt to persuade her friend to dine with them later. Emma clasped Dawn’s fingers, idle on the table.

‘Why won’t you stay?’ Emma frowned. ‘If you’d like to change, I have a gown for you to wear, or, if you’d sooner go home first to choose a dress, of course you’re welcome to take a carriage.’

‘I know...thank you...’ Dawn said, patting her friend’s hand to calm her anxiety. ‘It is not that.’

‘I know you don’t have another dinner appointment,’ Emma said bluntly.

‘No...but...’

‘But you don’t want to see Jack again,’ Emma guessed. ‘I know that you like my sister and brother-in-law, so they’re not putting you off staying to dine. Are you not quite over Jack?’

‘Of course I am over him, my dear!’ Dawn protested on a huff of a laugh.

‘Of course you must be; you’ve since been married to a nice gentleman and five years have passed since you saw Jack Valance,’ Emma said.

‘Closer to six,’ Dawn murmured.

‘Aha! So you’re not quite as over him as you’d have me believe, are you?’

‘Will he bring his fiancée to meet you, do you think?’ Dawn teased.

‘Fiancée?’ Emma echoed in disbelief.

‘I already knew he’d returned. I heard some ladies gossiping about him when I was at the library earlier in the week. Apparently he has returned to marry a Miss Sarah Snow.’

‘Why did you not say sooner?’ Emma gasped.

‘If I’d mentioned him, I knew you’d think what you are thinking.’ Dawn shrugged. ‘My liking him was all long ago. Honestly, Em, I am over him and have other, more important things on my mind. One of which is my stepdaughter. My letter to Eleanor is quite rudely overdue, as is my visit. I must immediately dash off a reply to her and get it in the post, then prepare for a trip.’

‘So you’re abandoning me and going off to Essex for a sojourn?’ Emma teased in return.

‘Only for a fortnight!’ Dawn protested. ‘It makes me feel quite ancient to mention my step-granddaughter...and another child soon due. Lily is a little dear...up on her feet now. I love to take her presents. Would you like to come shopping tomorrow in Regent Street and help me choose some things for her?’

‘I would love to...’ Emma frowned regretfully. ‘But walking round the shops will fag me out and I’ll spoil your enjoyment.’ She paused. ‘I wonder whether Lance knows Jack’s getting betrothed? If he does, why did he not say?’ She shot her husband a glance just as he gave a hefty overarm throw, setting the puppies charging quite a distance after a large stick.

Dawn got to her feet. ‘Men tend to put little store on these things, Em. If he does know of it, he probably hasn’t thought to bring it up. I haven’t seen a notice gazetted yet.’ Dawn had been searching for one, too. As soon as she got home after hearing the gossip in the library she’d scoured the lists of announcements, but had seen none that mentioned Jack Valance. And then she’d scolded herself for having put herself to such trouble for a man who’d easily forgotten about her. ‘Now, I should get along and let you prepare for your guests.’

‘I wish you could stay a while longer...’ Emma wheedled.

‘I really must go. Polly will be grumpy if her efforts in the kitchen are spoiled.’ Dawn clucked her tongue. ‘She’s not the best of cooks, poor girl. But she tries hard and can dress hair very nicely.’ She chuckled at the memory of yesterday’s burnt pie. But Polly was a treasure to her, loyal and versatile, and that was of great help when one could only afford to employ a single servant.

‘Well, if you’re not going to get a good dinner that’s even more reason to stay,’ Emma said archly. ‘But... I understand.’ She gave her friend a rueful look. ‘If Jack brings his intended this evening, I’ll be sure to let you know all about her.’

‘And when I get back I will let you know all about my trip to Essex.’ Dawn assisted her friend in rising from her chair. Linking arms, they set off at a slow stroll towards the house. Dawn raised a hand in farewell to the Earl. He had his son in his arms and was on his way across the lawn to the flag-edged pond to show the boy the goldfish. He shifted Bernie in his grip to return her a farewell salute.

‘I’ve not heard of this Miss Sarah Snow or her family. Is she young...out this Season?’ Still Emma seemed absorbed in knowing more about Jack Valance’s plans.

‘I believe she keeps to herself and hasn’t been seen much. But she is pretty from what the ladies were saying. A redhead.’ Dawn hugged Emma closer. ‘She sounds like a wise young lady. Thank goodness we no longer have to attend those ghastly balls at Almack’s. I feel quite sorry for those poor girls being criticised as though they were a herd of prime fillies.’

‘I’ve asked Lance to bring me home some tattle, but he rarely does. He says it all passes over his head when he’s in his club. Not that he goes there much. I expect he might go more often now that Jack is home. They’ve been friends since school, but have hardly seen one another in years.’

Dawn thought back on those years, wondering where the time had flown to. Yet much had happened in her life: she’d been married, widowed and now had a family, none of whom were her blood relatives. The only one of those left to her was her papa.

‘Once my confinement is over we must sally forth and find out what the beau monde is up to,’ Emma announced, interrupting her friend’s pensiveness.

‘The beau monde will be much as it always was, my dear,’ Dawn returned. ‘You will discover nothing much more than who put their last shilling on the turn of a card and lost an estate and which husband was found in flagrante with his chum’s wife.’

‘You are a dreadful cynic, Dawn,’ Emma fondly chided.

‘Am I? I don’t mean to be. Perhaps life has made me grumpy.’

Emma hugged her friend. Indeed, Dawn had had some tough luck and words were of little comfort to somebody who had found contentment with a gentleman, if not love, and had settled for that consolation just to have it whipped away.