“Good day. You would be Nicholson. Lord Scarborough said that you would be arriving this day.”
“Yes, but I’m afraid that you have me at a disadvantage. I’m afraid that I do not know who you are.”
The man held out his hand. “The name’s Cardross Wickham, Lord Scarborough’s butler.”
Nicholson took the offered hand, nearly losing his hat when the man pumped his hand rather vigorously. Nicholson managed to snatch his hand away, drawing it to his chest. If it is not crushed by this great giant, then I am lucky indeed.
“What has happened to Mr Kent? The previous butler?”
Nicholson could have counted on him to inform him of all that is happening in the house.
“I presume he was let go before I arrived. I have no knowledge of a Mr Kent.”
Lord Scarborough had terminated their employment? Whatever for?
“And Felicia? Kimberley? Mrs Trudor?”
The man shook his head. “I do not know of any servants by that name. It is only myself, Mrs Wickham – my wife, Catherine, Mrs Rosley, and Prescott who are in the house. The outside staffs are Nielsen and Gavin, and of course my son, George. He’s the stable hand.”
The fact that the Earl had believed it necessary to remove so many servants left room for concern. Had he discovered that they had been sending news back to Pemberley Manor? Perhaps he could find out from the remaining servants.
“May I come in? I am quite parched and fatigued from the long journey.”
“Yes, yes of course. Come in. Mrs Rosley will have refreshments for you in the kitchen. Shall I take you there?”
Take him there? He used to live here! He had no need of this man to take him anywhere. Nicholson knew every nook and cranny like the back of his hand.
“No, I assure you that there is no need. I am well aware of where the kitchen is thank you.”
The man raised his eyebrows but made no comment except to move away from the door, allowing Nicholson to walk in. His first impression of the house was begrudgingly good. Nicholson could see that it was being well taken care of, far better than he remembered Mr Trudor doing so. Scarborough House clearly had a new housekeeper that knew what she was doing. But the jury was still out – he wanted to see their quality of food. Mrs Rosley had cooked the most basic of food, but the old Earl had never minded as he had had a weak stomach for fatty food. Of course, Lady Scarborough had complained bitterly, only being appeased by the chocolates she so loved. I wish that she would refrain from indulging on those chocolates! Who does she think must help her up into the carriage? She’s expanding so rapidly that I will need more assistance sooner rather than later. Nicholson saw that the man was following behind him.
“I have no need of a guide, Mr Wickham. I can get to the kitchen quite well on my own.”
“I can see that, but I have a need to speak with my wife, and she is presently in the kitchen.”
Nicholson nodded, his cheeks colouring slightly before continuing his walk. The man was keeping an eye on him, he was sure of it. Was he doing so upon Lord Scarborough’s order, and if that was the case, why? Nicholson’s scandal antennae went up. He had the uncanny ability to sniff out a lie, a scandal, or even a secret. Something is definitely going on here. Whether or not it was serious or worth his while was left to be seen. Maybe Mrs Rosely or even Catherine will be able to tell me what is going on. Nicholson finally entered the kitchen and was greeted by heavenly smells. He had just to stop and take in the aromas. When had he last smelt anything so divine? Mrs Rosley had obviously improved a great deal over the past year or so.
“Nicholson? Is that you? Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes! Don’t just stand there! Come in, come in. Meet our Marguerite, Lord Scarborough’s housekeeper.”
Mrs Rosely left the pot she was stirring to draw him further into the room, bringing him to stand in front of a slightly plump woman. So this is the giant’s wife. Not bad, not bad at all. Pity that she already has a husband.
“How do you do, Mrs Wickham? I believe that I have you to compliment on keeping a spotless house. Scarborough House has never looked better.”
The woman did a shallow curtsy, her eyes never leaving his face. She doesn’t trust me, either, but she doesn’t know me. How strange.
“Nice to meet you, Mr Nicholson. Mrs Rosley has laid a lovely spread for you, please, enjoy. Now if you will excuse me, I have matters to discuss with my husband.”
Nicholson nodded, watching her leave the room with her husband. Instinct told him to follow them, but his belly said otherwise. After such a long journey, he was inclined to agree with his stomach. He sat down to the hearty meal of cold meat, bread, cheese, and some relish, all the while keeping his eye on the delicious stew brewing in the pot. He was looking forward to that, he really was, but for now, this meal would do him nicely.
“Good spread you got here, Mrs Rosely. Splendid really. Should do me well – I was quite famished, you know. Parched, too. Have you any tea? Preferably a bag that has not been used already? I so hate weak tea. Awful stuff.”
Mrs Rosely was beaming at him, obviously chuffed with his compliments. If I continue to butter her up, she might give me any news concerning this house, then I will not have to snoop much.
“Of course, Nicholson. Lord Scarborough keeps us well-stocked, despite the scarcity of it in these parts. The man is a saint, he really is. I cannot abide by the terrible lies that people have spun about him. Cannot abide by them at all. Why, he took in Mr and Mrs Wickham, and their son George, and gave them jobs right here in this house. Wonderful people, they are. Couldn’t have asked for better people to work with.”
Nicholson broke off a hunk of bread, smeared it with butter, and placed a thick piece of cheese on it. He took a bite, making appreciative noises.
“Delicious bread, Mrs Rosely. The best there is in England. You say that he took them in? Whereabouts are they from?”
He slathered another piece of bread with relish, before putting a cold piece of meat on it. Nicholson made sure to seem interested, but not suspiciously so. He wouldn’t want Mrs Rosely thinking that he was fishing for information. The woman busied herself with making the tea, still chattering away.
“They were on the road, poor things when they were attacked by bandits. George managed to fend them off, but Mr Wickham was hurt. Lord Scarborough brought them back here, and things have never been happier. Even his lordship’s mood has lightened, and it is thanks to our George.”
His ears piqued when the stable hand was mentioned.
“The stable hand? How so?”
Mrs Rosely’s eyes widened before she shut down.
“Nothing in particular,” she said carefully. “Just that our George is a fine fellow. Smart, too. He is good with James.”
James? Oh yes, the illegitimate child the Earl had brought with him to Scarborough House. Mrs Rosely gave high praise indeed for a simple stable hand. Or was he just a simple stable hand? Nicholson could feel the making of a juicy story. But what is the story here? He had every intention of completing this meal and slipping through the house until he came out with news that would please his ladyship. Nicholson smiled to himself, accepting the steaming cup of tea from the cook.
*****
Maria stopped her husband, pulling him into the music room.
“In here, Giles. We can talk here.”
She let her husband go in ahead of her and then looked around to make sure that no one had seen them come in. Maria closed the door and put her finger to her lips, drawing her husband further into the room.
“Where is the Earl?” she asked.
“Down at the stables with Madelene. He’s been there since this morning.”
Maria shook her head. “That is not a good thing, Giles, not at all. Catherine informed me about this man, Nicholson. He is a dangerous one to have around when there are secrets to be kept.”
“That is why you asked me to follow him? The man was not impressed that I walked with him to the kitchen. I had to say t
hat I wished to speak with you just to appease him, although I do not think that he fully believed me.”
Maria had found Lord Scarborough’s letter from his aunt, Lady Scarborough. Against her better judgement, she had read it but was glad when she did so. How else would she have known that this Nicholson would arrive when he did? And from the tone of the letter, this man was here to do some snooping.
“He is not a man to be trusted, amour. Catherine tells me that he is Lady Scarborough’s own hound dog, trained to uncover the most hidden of secrets. What if he should find out about Madelene? He could most easily sneak into the rooms and uncover some damning evidence about us. Nothing is stopping him from informing his ladyship, and she in turn informing the Huntingtons.”
Giles rubbed his face. “Then I must follow him. He cannot be left alone.”
“Yes, an eye must be kept on him at all times. But you have your duties to attend to; how will you manage to watch him and do your work?”
Giles scratched his beard, his eyes looking over her shoulder. She could see that her husband was in deep thought. Maria hoped that he would come up with a solution to their problem.
“The only solution is to watch him, Maria, and try to remove all evidence of Miss Madelene. Nicholson must leave here believing that she is George, a humble stable hand. Nothing more, nothing less. However, I am worried about the Earl. I am certain that he is aware of Nicholson’s ways, but what if he does not lessen his time spent with Miss Madelene?”
Giles was right. Lord Scarborough was there with her in the stables, talking to her, and yet he knew that the butler would be arriving this day.
“Then we will need to speak to him. Once he returns, you must speak to him, Giles, man to man. Speak of your concerns. I am certain that he will heed your warning. It is not enough that Madelene remain at the stables, he must not frequent them himself. For I am sure that Nicholson will wonder why the Earl is interested in attending the stables as much as he does.”
He nodded. “Rest assured, my love, I will speak with him.”
Maria nodded, but she was still agitated. She simply did not like this man being anywhere near her Madelene. If Catherine’s words were anything to go by, then he was as sharp as a fox. With the right questions asked, much snooping, and a nose for secrets, he was sure to find something out. The sooner he left, the better.
*****
Hugh was enjoying himself immensely. He was bantering with Maddy while cleaning out the stalls, but he didn’t mind the cleaning in the slightest. Hugh would gladly do that and more if it meant spending more time with her. He had rolled up his sleeves, showing his hairy arms, which Maddy had readily commented on. She had called him a hairy baboon, but Hugh had not taken any offence at it. He knew that he was hairy – what was there to worry about? Besides, it had not been said in disgust, but in shock. Maddy had gone so far as to touch his arms, but he had objected when she had pulled a strand. She was presently arguing about the rights of women, criticising the constraints placed on them.
“It is simply not fair! There are many more rules for women to adhere to than men. Why is that?”
Hugh shrugged. “Perhaps it is to protect women?”
Maddy pulled her face, her mouth forming a sneer.
“From what, exactly? It seems that the only real threat is the men themselves! Are you all frightened of women?”
“I’m certainly not frightened of women. Look, I let you voice your opinions without fear of reprimand. I have no issue with women. On the contrary, I love women.”
He picked up the jug of water, eager to quench his throat.
Maddy narrowed her eyes. “Are you a rake, Lord Scarborough?”
Hugh coughed, sending water flying in every direction.
“Excuse me?”
Maddy planted her hands on her hips, the horses’ brush in hand.
“You heard me. Are you a rake? You just admitted to loving women. A man of your stature, wealth, and good looks could easily fall into that category.”
She had just admitted to the fact that he believed him to be handsome. Hugh’s ego swelled.
“So, you think that I am good looking?”
Two pink spots appeared on her cheeks. “You are going off topic, My Lord. You have not answered the question yet. Are you a rake?”
Hugh thought about it for a moment. While he enjoyed the attentions of women, being a rake was another thing altogether. Jasper would be classed as one, but him? No, Hugh didn’t consider himself a rake.
“Definitely not. I respect women, always have. Once I decide to be with one woman, then that is it for me.”
Maddy nodded, satisfied with his answer. She returned to shovelling hay but straightened up again.
“If you were to be married, what rights would your wife have? You say that you have no problem with women, but would you expect her to be this prim and proper woman with no life of her own but to please her husband? To bear him an heir and host parties?”
Is that what he had expected of Almeria? Perhaps to a certain extent, but he had loved her, doing everything in his power to make her happy. If he had given her more freedom, would she have still chosen to have an affair with his own brother? Yes, she would have. Almeria never seemed content just to be with me.
“I would not wish to be married, Maddy. That is a responsibility that I would lief pass on. Women are to be admired from afar, but to marry one?” He shook his head.
Maddy looked at him, confusion written all over his face. What is she thinking? Does she wish to be married someday? The thought of Maddy marrying some man was enough for his chest to suddenly feel tight, as though his breath was being squeezed out of him. Hugh rubbed his chest, alarmed at the intensity of his emotions. Diablo suddenly moved, knocking an unsuspecting Maddy headlong into the hay.
“Maddy!”
He ran to her, pulling her out by the waist. To his surprise, she came out laughing. It was a sound that he wished he could have bottled by the dozens.
“Oh my, remind me never to turn my back on Diablo. He purposefully did that!”
Maddy looked up at him, her face alight with laughter. Straw was sticking out of her hair, and some were attached to her clothes. She moved to remove himself from his arms, but Hugh could not move. He was utterly mesmerised by the beauty that was before him. He stared deep into her eyes, jewel blue eyes that haunted his sleep.
“My Lord?” she asked.
“Hugh, you should call me Hugh. There is none other that knows me better than you do, Maddy. Why is that?”
Her mouth opened as she tried to find the words to say. She looked comical, gaping like a fish, but even that was endearing to him. When she found her voice, it had dropped several notches.
“I- I don’t know, My Lord. Perhaps it is because I take the time to listen?”
He shook his head. “No, that cannot be it. You draw a man in; make him forget his troubles, all the while hiding yourself. Who are you, Maddy?”
She opened her mouth once more, but a noise outside the stable caught their attention. Hugh immediately released her, embarrassed at himself for having revealed so much of his feelings. He busied himself with searching for the cause of the noise, but he could find nothing. He turned back to Maddy, only to see her back to him. It’s best that I go before I say anything foolish again. Hugh left without saying a word. He needed to return to the house and focus his mind on something else. His feelings for Maddy were growing stronger every day, but he could not entertain them. Hugh could never go through what he had experienced with Almeria. He just couldn’t.
A Lady for the Forsaken Earl: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 22
