by Fanny Finch
“Delia, I do not understand. You’re right. How can you make such an assumption? This is quite a conclusion to jump to. Just because a man is bitter or angry does not mean that he would try to wound your Earl. Do you really believe that he had something to do with this accident? That he was the cause of it?” Thea asked.
“I have no doubt. And, Thea, if I am right, then I must get back immediately. I must tell the Earl what I know of the Baron and what I have seen from him. I cannot let him remain unsafe. Or Grace, for that matter. What if this is a plan to have the Earl killed and leave Grace an orphan? What if she is sent to live with her mother's family? They are awful people!” Delia exclaimed.
“You are jumping to some great conclusions, Delia. If you really believe this to be true than I shall trust you, but honestly, I cannot imagine that all of this is the reality. I cannot imagine that this Baron Woldorf is so evil as that. It should be a terrible thing to falsely accuse a man of so heinous a crime,” Thea remarked.
Delia knew she was right. It would not be good to accuse him falsely. But if she was right, then she could not pretend that everything was fine if it wasn’t. She had to warn the Earl of her suspicions. She had to warn him that she thought he was in danger.
“Right then. You are right. You must go back,” Thea said, realizing the gravity of the situation.
“Thank you,” Delia replied, glad to have her sister’s support.
“If you are wrong, then it will be a terrible embarrassment. But if you are right, it is your duty to ensure that the Earl and his daughter are safe. I am sorry for doubting. You must go and see to it that all is well and you must ensure that they are safe,” Thea said.
Delia nodded, turning to leave. She needed to pack her things, but it was going to be so difficult to leave. She would miss her sister, her nephew, and the Duke. She would not get to see Margaret as she had been so excited to do.
But the Earl was in danger, she knew it. She had to get back and check on him.
The letter had made it sound as though he was perfectly fine and he was concerned only for Grace who was deeply upset. But the more Delia thought about it, the more anxious she became.
If he was in danger, she might not make it back in time. What if the Baron tried again?
Horses didn’t simply get spooked. There must have been more to it. And while his letter was vague, it was simply too suspicious to know that the Baron had been present when he was injured. She wished that he could see that the man was not his friend.
Delia placed everything into her small bag and Thea was waiting for her at the base of the stairs when she came back down.
The coachman took her bag to get it inside and ready for their departure, but Delia had to remain a moment.
“I am going to miss you deeply,” she said to Thea.
“And I shall miss you. Please, try to come back. Once you know that your Earl is safe, find a chance to come and visit again. It is too hard being far away from you,” Thea remarked.
Delia nodded. She understood. It was terribly difficult for her as well. She knew that she was doing the right thing but it made it no easier. Her sister had meant so much to her. She didn’t want to part ways.
“And please tell Margaret that I am sorry I missed her. Tell her I shall make every effort to see her when I can and that she must write to me more,” Delia said.
“I shall tell her,” Thea promised.
With tears in their eyes, the sisters hugged one another. Delia took Edward into her arms and watched as the baby smiled, the image of his father.
“Oh, little Edward. I shall come back to see you again. I will miss you the most. But when I do see you, you will be larger and I do not think I can handle such a thing. Please do not grow,” she begged with a smile.
“I will do all I can to keep him this size for you,” Thea joked through her tears.
“Is there anything you wish to pass along to mother and father?” Thea asked.
Delia knew that she ought to say something, give her regards in some way. But nothing came quite to her mind.
“You may tell them that I think of them. I cannot say that it is entirely true or that when I do, my thoughts are good. But you can tell them that I think of them,” Delia said. It was the truest, most honest thing she could think of to share.
“Then I shall tell them. And you know you are hardly their only daughter who, ‘thinks of them’. But you are a good woman, Delia. And I wish all the best for you. You ought to know that I really do think of you, often. And I think of you highly. It is my deepest hope that you and your Earl should come to know one another's love,” Thea declared.
“Whatever is to become of us, I shall keep you informed,” Delia promised.
They had drawn out their goodbyes as long as they were able to Delia truly had to leave then. She walked to the coach after a final hug and got in, with the coachman closing the door behind her.
Setting off, back towards London, was not what Delia wanted. But she knew that it was right. And that made it all worth it.
But deep within her, a burning anger had begun. A fire was raging against the Baron and Delia knew that if he was, indeed, guilty, she would not be able to contain her growing hatred of the man.
He could slander her, treat her poorly, be strange with her. She did not mind that so much. But the thought of him intentionally seeing to it that the Earl was wounded, that was something she could not bear.
That was something she would not stand for.
So Delia prepared herself that she would determine the truth. She would speak to the Baron if she had to, and she would find out if the rumors were the reality. No one would hurt the Earl of Dulshire again. And no one would stand in the way of him being the father to Grace that he wanted to be.
Chapter 26
She was going to return.
That thought was the only one that kept the Earl of Dulshire going as he prepared himself for the day.
He had received her letter that morning, promising to return by the evening. The words on the page had filled his heart with joy. She expressed a deep concern for him and the words she used assured him that she was truly caring for his well-being.
But when she had added that she held a deep fear which she wished to discuss, a suspicion that this might not have been an accident at all, the Earl had hesitated. What could she possible have meant by that? What could have led to her conclusions?
Miss Caulfield had not even been present during the accident so the thought that she might believe something nefarious was strange and unnerving. The Earl didn’t understand. He didn’t know why she would even suggest it.
Nevertheless, she was returning and that was what concerned him.
The Earl made his way through the home and found Mrs. Andrews.
“Mrs. Andrews, please be a dear and instruct the cooks. Our Miss Caulfield is returning to us today and I should like very much to host a grand meal for her. Something French perhaps? Duck would be nice,” he told her.
The look on the housekeeper’s face shifted between surprise and anger.
“My lord. A governess? We are to host a grand meal to celebrate the return of the governess?” she asked.
“Yes,” the Earl replied nonchalantly, as if it was a silly thing even to question.
He had anticipated some remarks, but knew that he was in charge of the household. The Earl had warned Mrs. Andrews once and had no desire to have to remind her of it. So he trusted that she would do her duty and get the feast prepared.
“Alright, my lord. If you really believe that is the best use of the house resources,” she said, making it clear by her tone that she disagreed.
“I do. And it is my house and they are my resources,” he said, suddenly feeling an anger rise. “Mrs. Andrews, I should not like to have to remind you again that in my house and with my resources, I may hire whomever I will. And if those that I hire cannot abide by my wishes, I may have to find another who will.”
This warning seemed
to land and Mrs. Andrews nodded enthusiastically, declaring that she would go and inform the kitchen staff of their duty.
It was exhausting for the Earl to be so frustrated. He didn’t care to speak to Mrs. Andrews that way or to have to take charge of those under his employ. Perhaps he really was too soft on them. Perhaps he had been too gracious and kind to them. But would he ever wish to be the sort of master that wasn’t?
As he returned to the library, where he had been when the letter was brought to him, the Earl saw that Lord Woldorf was looking up from his book at the portrait of the late Countess. The Baron quickly looked away upon the entry of the Earl.
“You must miss her very much,” the Baron said.
“Indeed. I have so many regrets at not having been a better husband,” the Earl replied, limping over to his chair.
“You have not told me the contents of the letter that got you so excited,” the Baron noted, ignoring the previous comment.
“I do not believe you would approve of my excitement,” the Earl replied with a slight grin.
“Oh?” the Baron inquired.
“It was in reference to my governess. She is returning this evening. I have instructed a good meal be prepared to celebrate her coming back as I believe it will make Grace quite happy,” the Earl remarked, using his daughter as the excuse for the decision.
“For Miss Grace’s sake?” the Baron asked.
“Of course. She loves her governess a great deal. Why should I not indulge her?” he asked.
“I suppose. If you really believe that is the best course of action,” the Baron said in an odd tone.
“Please do not be like that. I understand your concern, truly I do. But you do not know her. She has no ignoble designs upon me. She has no intention to use me for her station,” he expressed again.
“Forgive me for ever thinking otherwise,” the Baron replied, turning back to his book.
The Earl was growing weary of defending himself. Perhaps he was wrong to care for Miss Caulfield, but it seemed as though everyone around him was against it. The Baron accused her of ill intent. His housekeeper was bitter and angry about the treatment she was being given. Was he really doing something wrong?
“Now, my lord,” the Baron began suddenly, “with your ankle in such a condition, I think it unwise for you to be going about doing all your business on your own. I should like to be of assistance.”
“But you have done such a great deal for me already. You have even stayed overnight after the accident yesterday. I can hardly expect you to abandon your own duties to take charge over mine. Please, do not burden yourself any further. You may return to your home as early as you please,” the Earl told him.
“I can do no such thing. I must see to it that you are made well. Truly well. So I should like to remain with you for a time. And your business in town. Your accounts and such. I will take charge as your representative. That way, you may remain here at rest and not have to put any pressure on your leg as it heals,” he offered.
The Earl appreciated his friend’s kindness, but also could not understand why he was being so gracious. In some ways, it was frustrating. He did not want another man involved in his affairs. No matter how he knew he ought to appreciate the Baron, he was uncomfortable accepting the offer.
“It really is of no concern. I have very little in town to worry for just now,” the Earl reiterated.
The Baron seemed disappointed and the Earl of Dulshire worried that he had offended him.
“Well, if you are quite certain,” he said. “But please bear in mind that I am here to assist you and would be glad to. Say the word and I’m your man,” he said.
“And I thank you for it,” the Earl said in appreciation. Nevertheless, he felt a strange sense of having offended his friend and wondered if perhaps he might find something small for the Baron to do.
The Baron nodded to him, still seeming as though desperate to help somehow.
“Perhaps there are a few things with which you could be of assistance. I shall try to draw up some of my appointments that you might be able to represent me and help with my affairs,” the Earl remarked, to the Baron’s evident relief.
In the meantime, however, the day was passing and the Earl wished to know how things were coming along for the feast that should take place upon the return of his governess.
The Earl stood and told the Baron he would return shortly before leaving the library. Limping down the hall, the Earl used the walls for support. He had a crutch but no desire to use it.
As he meandered down the hallways, he soon came to the dining hall. Behind the door was a small corridor before reaching the kitchen. In the corridor, the Earl could hear the conversation of his staff clearly.
“Well, of course. It’s clear he thinks she’s special somehow. Can you imagine it? A governess!” came the voice of Mrs. Andrews.
“I’ll confess I’ve never made duck for a governess. I hardly think I’ve ever known a governess who’s eaten it,” the head chef complained.
“Yes, but of course she’s getting it. For heaven’s sake, she’s barely better than a staff member! Do you think he’d ever do anything half so generous for one of us?” Mrs. Andrews whined.
Another employee mumbled something the Earl could not hear and it was followed by the laughter of three or four people. He wished he had known what was said but was simultaneously grateful that he hadn’t. He was being disrespected in his own home and had nearly come to the end of his patience.
“Anyway, whatever it is that sets her apart from us, it had better be worth it for him. Making such a gesture as this for a lowly employee, is something I hardly ever imagined I would see,” the chef said as a final remark.
As things began to quiet down, the Earl was finally ready to make his presence known.
He burst through the door, causing it to swing wide and hit the wall. All eyes stared at him in shock and mouths gaped around him. The Earl stood with his back straight and his head high.
“Hello,” he greeted coldly.
“My lord,” all replied, accompanied by bows and curtsies.
“And how are things coming for the feast this evening?” he asked, expressing that it was to be a grand event.
“Ver-very well, my lord,” the head chef, Maurice replied, turning to the duck that had barely been prepared.
“Oh? It is coming along very well?” he asked.
“Indeed, my lord. Very well. You shall have a grand feast ahead,” came the reply. The assistant cowered behind Maurice, hoping not to be noticed.
“It looks to me as though you have a great deal of work ahead of you, Maurice. I think perhaps you have been distracted by all of this company,” he said, vaguely alluding to the conversation that had taken the man from his duties.
“Do not worry, my lord. I shall ensure that everything is well prepared,” Maurice replied.
“I expect you shall. And for the rest of you, perhaps you ought to leave our chef and his assistant. You do have other duties, do you not?” he asked.
With that, Mrs. Andrews and two maids silently began to move past him and into the corridor so they could head out into the house. All had their heads down in shame and embarrassment.
The Earl did not move. Maurice glanced up at him now and then, paranoid at being watched so closely.
It gave the Earl a nice sense of power, something he rarely felt he had in his home, something he had never really fought for. And while he didn’t feel that power was necessarily anything he cared for, authority was precious. Authority was exactly what a man ought to have in his home. And he would not stand for this continued insolence.
The Earl decided that if his staff would not begin to take him seriously in the following weeks, he would begin to replace them, one by one. Or maybe even the whole lot of them all at once.
Then again, he had threatened Mrs. Andrews with this very thing and had yet to act on it. Perhaps he really was too generous.
Finally, the Earl turned to leave, co
nfident that the duck was in progress and would be ready in time for the dinner. He imagined he heard the sighs of relief as he exited the kitchen.
Making his way back to the library, the Earl limped to his chair once more. The Baron glanced up at him and he smiled in reply. The two sat in silence as they each indulged in separate literature.
Thoughts filled the Earl’s mind. Thoughts of how his staff were behaving, how they had been rude towards Miss Caulfield and disrespectful towards him. Thoughts of the Baron who was desperate to assist him but also disagreed with some of his decisions.
