She expressed her opinion of his poor humour with a light slap to his arm. Thomas smiled before continuing.
“And we have the perfect ally to help us sell the story. Your new friend Lady Jersey.”
Ellen gave him a wide-eyed look of dread. Lady Jersey’s reputation as a gossip was unparalleled; if she didn’t buy the story, they were doomed. She would undoubtedly dig until she uncovered the truth, and she had the resources and the contacts to root it out.
On the other hand, Lady Jersey had shown no particular liking for Louisa, or Clarice. If Ellen and Thomas offered her a salacious piece of gossip—delivered with suitable regret, of course, for a situation that could not be helped and a scandal that could not be hidden—why would she look any further?
“You seem to have thought it all through very well,” Ellen whispered at last.
“It is merely the bones of a plan, Ellen, and one I would not even think of executing without talking it over with you first. You know well that from the very first, I have valued your counsel above all others. Doing this without your approval is unthinkable.”
Ellen reached up to touch his face in gentle wonder. He’d obviously had his valet shave him while the doctor attended her, for his cheek was smooth, her fingertips skating lightly over his skin.
“I love you, Thomas,” she whispered.
The expression on Thomas’ face was one of pure joy and adoration as he pulled her closer and kissed her again, this time until she thought she might swoon from sheer delight.
“Ahem,” Susan said eventually, and Thomas let Ellen go with a quiet laugh.
“Do not fear, Susan, I do not intend to ravish Ellen before we have said our vows in a church.”
“I would never doubt you, my lord,” Susan replied, a thread of laughter in her voice.
“Excellent, Susan. Excellent. I believe you deserve a promotion for your loyal service, in fact; how does being the Countess of Havers’ personal maid sound to you?”
“As long as it is the future countess and not the present one, I shall be delighted and honoured, my lord,” Susan said gravely.
Laughing hurt too much, so Ellen swallowed it down and rested her head against Thomas’ shoulder again. Her eyelids felt heavy, and she realised sleep was approaching once more.
“Sleep,” Thomas whispered, kissing her cheek tenderly. “I will have more news once you wake up again. For now, I need you to rest, regain your strength. I will need your wise counsel when you wake, if we are to pull this off.”
*
The plan to remove Louisa and Clarice to the Isle of Wight went off without a hitch. Thomas had his secretary write polite refusals to all invitations they received, explaining that influenza had laid them all low, and the staff told anyone who asked the same. Doctor Smithee’s regular visits to the house only confirmed the fact in everyone’s minds.
Clarice came to see Ellen once before their departure. “I’m sorry,” was all she managed to say, through tears streaming down her cheeks. “I hope you and Thomas will be happy together, truly.” She could not look at Ellen directly as she spoke.
“I hope Louisa finds peace,” was all Ellen could think of to say. She pitied Clarice deeply, but the older woman’s decisions made to protect her daughter had almost caused Ellen’s demise, and even with Ellen’s forgiving nature she could not find it in herself to entirely absolve Clarice of guilt.
Thomas had to escort Clarice and Louisa to their destination, of course. They slipped out of London in a closed carriage, one without the family crest emblazoned on it, late one night. Still weak and easily exhausted, Thomas made Ellen promise to remain in bed until he returned, charging the servants with her welfare. He hated leaving her, but there was nothing for it; she was not well enough to travel and he had to see Clarice and Louisa settled. Sending Mr Gallagher ahead to arrange Louisa’s residency at the psychiatric hospital and have a house arranged for Clarice would, Thomas hoped, minimise the amount of time he would need to spend on the island.
Doctor Smithee had prescribed herbs and teas which they had been using to keep Louisa calm ever since her attack on Ellen, and she spent the journey in a quiet, dreamlike haze. Once or twice she murmured something about ‘a honeymoon by the seaside’ and Thomas realised she thought they were married, or soon to be so. Not wishing to disrupt her calm state of mind, he said nothing to contradict her, but made sure to keep his distance, riding alongside the carriage rather than in it for most of the journey.
The hospital was in a large, elegantly appointed country house close to the centre of the island. Considering the fees they charged to enrol patients, the property should be well maintained, Thomas considered, and was pleased to note the exceptional cleanliness of every room. While the residents were permitted to mingle with each other, they did so only under supervision, and no resident was allowed to roam alone outside or to leave the estate’s grounds under any circumstances.
“You should go,” Clarice told Thomas quietly as Louisa inspected the large, well-appointed suite set aside for her personal use. Her ‘maid’ was a specially trained nurse, a large, no-nonsense countrywoman with a thick Hampshire accent who was well aware of Louisa’s occasional violent proclivities, and, she assured Thomas privately, well-equipped to handle them.
“You have not seen your house yet,” Thomas protested.
“I’ll not leave Louisa here alone yet. Her rage when you leave will be ugly enough to witness; I may be able to calm her somewhat. Once she is settled here, I’ll have the carriage take me to the house. You have been more than kind, Thomas, giving me my own carriage and arranging all this.”
Clarice seemed a different woman, Thomas thought. Yet, what would she have done to conceal Louisa’s terrible secret, if she had been able? Her silence almost cost Ellen’s life, and he could not, would not trust her. He had already assigned a man to ensure neither she nor Louisa would ever find passage back to the mainland without his express authority.
With a last look at Louisa, examining a delicate writing-desk fully fitted out for her with papers, pens and ink—though any letters she sent would never reach their destination, unless it was to him—Thomas nodded.
“Take care, Clarice. If there is anything you ever need—anything at all—I pray you will let me know at once.”
She did not offer an embrace, only inclined her head regally and said a single word.
“Goodbye.”
Chapter Sixteen
*
Thomas did not hide his return to London. Supposedly, he was arriving back after a frantic attempt to intercept Louisa before reaching Scotland with her lowborn lover, after all. Late that day, a closed carriage would depart the house, and he would tell anyone who asked that Clarice was in it, leaving to be with her daughter as they settled in an undisclosed location.
For now, all he could think of was Ellen, as he handed the reins of his tired horse to a groom who wished him a good day. Taking the steps to the house two at a time, he strode past the smiling Mr Henry and headed for the interior stairs.
“Not that way, my lord!” Mr Henry called after him.
“I beg your pardon?” Thomas paused, one foot on the bottom step.
“In the parlour, my lord.” Mr Henry gestured. “I daresay you don’t need me to present you?”
The butler was talking to thin air.
*
Ellen looked up from her book as the parlour door opened. A second later the book fell unheeded to the floor as she leaped to her feet, and a second after that she was rushing into Thomas’ arms, heedless of any audience who might observe them.
“Ellen,” he kept saying as he rained kisses on her face, “my Ellen, how I’ve missed you!”
Ellen could find no words, too choked with emotion to speak. She clung tightly to Thomas and closed her eyes, revelling in the solid strength of him as he held her close.
“You should not be out of bed,” Thomas said finally, pulling back to hold her at arm’s length, his palms cupped over her shou
lders.
Ellen laughed. The sound was husky yet, but she could speak and make herself heard. Although the bruises on her throat were still livid with colour, they were green and yellow rather than black and purple, clearly ageing and fading away. “I have been pampered and waited on hand and foot ever since you left, Thomas. Today is the first day Susan has even permitted me to leave my room, and that only because I protested I would run mad if I did not see something other than those four walls.”
Hearing her speak, sounding almost like her old self, Thomas smiled in relief. He still led her back to the comfortable fireside chair she had been occupying, though, settling her down in it and seating himself on the footstool, keeping her hands held in his.
“Obviously you are on the mend. Has Doctor Smithee been attentive?”
“Here every day at least once, sometimes twice.” Ellen smiled at him, pulling one of her hands free and reaching to touch his cheek. “How are you, Thomas?”
“I’m not the one who was injured.”
“No, but you have still had a long journey, and I have no doubt settling Louisa and Clarice did not go entirely smoothly. So I ask again; how are you?”
He stared into her eyes for a long moment before bowing his head and laying it in her lap. “Did I do the right thing, Ellen?”
“It was the only thing you could do,” she replied at once, stroking her fingers through his hair tenderly. “I have thought on it a great deal, since you left; I have had little else to do other than think, and no matter how many different possibilities I considered, none of them ended any better than the path you chose.”
Thomas sighed deeply, nodding slowly against her lap. “I know. I have had a good deal of time to think too, and I could not think of anything else either. Short of shipping Louisa off somewhere even more remote and locking her in a cottage in the Highlands or something where there is no chance of her ever being seen again by someone who might possibly recognise her…”
“Which would be too cruel a fate, even for her,” Ellen said quietly as he trailed off.
“Even if it were not, I believe Clarice would have insisted on going with her, and that would most definitely have been unfair.” Thomas lifted his head to look at her. “I know she was unkind to you, Ellen, but she is, after all, family.”
“And neither you nor I have so many family members that we are willing to let any of them suffer unnecessarily.”
“Exactly.” Taking her hand, he pressed a kiss to her fingers. “To tell the truth, my joy in loving you is so all-encompassing, I cannot consider anything which might make anyone in the least distressed.”
For a long moment they sat lost in each other’s eyes, so glad to be reunited all worldly cares fell away. At last, though, Thomas shook himself and addressed the most pressing item on his mind.
“I tasked Gallagher with obtaining a special licence when I sent him back to town, and if he is half as efficient as I think him to be, it will even now be lying on my desk. Forgive me if it is your dream to have a magnificent wedding at Haverford attended by half the county, but I think it best for us to marry as quickly and quietly as possible, and then to depart London immediately.”
“I have no such yearnings, and I quite agree that is the best plan,” Ellen said at once. “So long as you are the bridegroom, I find I care not for any other details as to when and where.”
Thomas looked delighted by her sentiment, and kissed her hands again. “Have you a gown with a high collar which would conceal your bruises? If so, we might be able to invite a few close friends to witness the nuptials.”
Ellen considered that. While she had not been in London long enough to make many friends, she thought she would like to invite Lady Creighton, who had been so kind to her, and the three older ladies who wished to take her under their wing. She felt quite sure they would all be pleased for her to marry Thomas, who they had seemed to look upon with some favour despite his American birth.
Thomas left her briefly to go to his study, where he found both his steward and the special licence the faithful man had efficiently procured. Gallagher was more than happy to go out at once and find an amenable parson to perform the ceremony as soon as possible.
“I have been thinking,” Ellen told Thomas as the pair of them ate dinner together that evening, sitting in Ellen’s sitting-room with Susan sewing quietly in the corner, “that I should pay a call on Lady Jersey.”
Thomas stopped with his soup spoon suspended in mid-air, eyed her uncertainly. “Would it not be better to write to her once we have left London?”
“Except that I should like to invite her to attend the wedding.” The ceremony was set for three days’ hence, in a small church close by.
Thomas set the spoon down with a sigh. “Well. It was always part of the plan to tell her the public version of events to spread, was it not? I daresay if we do so in person, we will be that much more believable.”
Ellen nodded in agreement. “I should like to call on Lady Creighton, too,” she said. “She was very kind to me, and indeed, without her interference we might not even be sitting here now. It was her insistence that I not be a wallflower which led me to dance with Lord Bellmere and Major Trevithick, after all.”
Thomas narrowed his eyes at her. “Which caused me to realise my own idiocy in not noticing your utter perfection from the very first moment. Indeed, your reproach is valid.”
She laughed at him in return. “Do not dare to be jealous, Thomas. Neither of them had any chance of winning my heart, I promise you. It has long been yours.”
They gazed at each other until Susan coughed from the corner. “That soup will taste far better while it’s hot, m’lord, Miss Bentley,” she said in gentle reproach.
“You see, I am well cared for,” Ellen smiled at her maid and picked up her spoon again. “Susan has coddled me like a hen with one chick in your absence.”
“Good,” Thomas said emphatically.
Choosing to change the subject, and given a new one because of Susan’s gentle reminder, Ellen remarked on the gossip already beginning to circulate. “The servants have begun spreading the requested story, whispering of Louisa’s departure and disgrace with a fictional member of their number.” Shaking her head, Ellen said “It’s a sad indictment of her behaviour towards them, that they are positively eager to begin crowing of her downfall.”
“Let them enjoy their revenge, Ellen. Who knows how many servants Louisa had dismissed, or even hurt more seriously, like that maid Clarice told me about? Frankly, I think we should just be thankful they are not trumpeting the truth of her madness all over London.”
“They would not,” Ellen denied firmly.
“I happen to agree, mainly because you have endeared yourself so greatly to them, both here and at Havers Hall!”
*
They paid a call on Lady Jersey the following morning, Ellen’s throat well covered by a lacy shawl wrapped high, the huskiness of her voice explained away by the lingering effects of influenza.
The countess asked a few probing questions about Louisa, and Thomas and Ellen answered carefully, their story well-rehearsed. They both expressed regret at their cousin’s disgrace, shock at her abrupt departure.
“I had not the slightest idea she planned anything of the sort, I assure you,” Ellen told the countess. “I do know Lady Havers was pressing Louisa to settle on one of her suitors; perhaps that prompted her to take her chance when we were all ill abed with influenza.”
“Foolish chit.” Lady Jersey shook her head. “Well, it is certainly a scandal, but I do not believe it shall touch you particularly. Especially since you plan to marry so soon. You sly thing, Miss Bentley, you gave no hint of that at all!” She tapped Ellen’s hand with her fan, chuckling to herself.
Ellen blushed, glanced sideways at Thomas, who grinned at her in return. “In my defence, my lady, I had no idea Thomas returned my affections until after Louisa’s disgrace came to light. Emotions were running high at that time.”
; “No doubt, no doubt.” Lady Jersey seemed highly amused. “Well, it is a charming outcome for the pair of you, to be certain, though I quite understand why you feel it necessary to marry quickly and return to the country.” Waving a languid hand, she declared “I shall make sure the new Countess of Havers can move in society without any hint of scandal attaching to her from her cousin’s foolishness. You leave that to me.”
“We defer to your expertise, of course, Lady Jersey,” Thomas said, amused.
“I knew you were a smart young man, Havers, despite hailing from the colonies. You’ll do well enough, I dare say.”
Ellen stifled a little giggle as Lady Jersey accepted the compliment imperiously. She could only count herself lucky that the formidable lady was disposed to believe their story.
“You will come to the wedding, won’t you, Lady Jersey?” she asked hopefully.
“I would not miss it, dear girl, and I shall bring Eliza Sale and Charlotte Peabody with me, and anyone else I can scoop up.”
“Oh, thank you,” Ellen said gratefully. “We will not have time to call upon everyone who I should have wished to invite, though we go from here to the Creighton townhouse. I should very much like to invite Lady Creighton to attend.”
Chapter Seventeen
*
The day of the wedding dawned dull and raining, though Susan claimed it would clear up later. Refusing to let the weather sour her mood, Ellen smiled and insisted it would not matter if it rained all day. She had no doubt Mr Henry would have arranged things so that no guest would risk so much as a single raindrop touching their hair or clothing.
“Perhaps, but your shoes would be all over mud, miss!” Susan muttered direly. “Come, into your bath and let’s get your hair washed and drying in front of the fire. Betty will be bringing your breakfast up directly.”
Smiling as her maid took charge, Ellen slipped into the prepared bath and relaxed in the warm water as Susan massaged flakes of Castile soap into her hair before washing it out with apple cider vinegar and a rosemary and lavender rinse.
An Earl For Ellen (Blushing Brides Book 1) Page 11
