The Poor Relation

by Bennett, Margaret

  “Please come and keep me company with Monsieur Guyot and Sir Clarence.” Then in a soft aside, the young girl said, “Forgive me, Chloe, but I feel positively plagued by Sir Clarence.”

  And indeed, that gentleman so monopolized Lady Sarah’s attention, Chloe could offer little in the way of distracting Reaves from his wooing. Hence, she and the slighted Frenchman, after an uncomfortably formal beginning, discovered that the cultural differences between their two countries provided a safe topic of conversation.

  At one point, his beady brown eyes gave her a peculiar look. “It is rare for an émigré as myself to receive the sympathie for difficulties encountered in a hostile land.”

  “You are too hard on my countrymen, Monsieur. Most Englishmen understand your position, especially since you have lost your inheritance because of a common usurper.”

  “It is not easy, Mademoiselle, especially after Napoleon crowned himself emperor.” The characteristic shrug of his shoulders was typical of the Gallic pragmatism usually displayed by so many of his countrymen. “Mais, I contrive.”

  The afternoon slipped by as a dozen liveried footman served the alfresco lunch of paper thin slices of ham, cold chicken, strips of veal and a variety of vegetable dishes, and fruit tarts for dessert. Freshly squeezed lemonade, ale, and an impressive wine selection were also served, much to Chloe’s chagrin. Each time she glanced at her aunt, she observed a different tint to the crystal goblet in the baroness’s hand.

  Throughout the meal, Chloe continued to be surprised by the humorous side of Guyot’s oily personality. However, there still existed something innately venomous about the Frenchman that his smooth manners could not completely hide. Thus, Chloe welcomed the end of the meal when some of the other diners got up to stroll about the small lake.

  She broke in on one of Sir Clarence’s monologues and thanked Lady Sarah for her company, but she needed to check on her aunt. Rising to approach the gazebo, Chloe took heart upon seeing that Lady Sophia’s eyes were clear and her mood remained gay, even if the color of her cheeks was brighter than the rouge she wore.

  Feeling sated and wishing to enjoy the glorious afternoon with a walk about the picturesque pond, Chloe mischievously invited her aunt to take a stroll down to the water’s edge.

  “Good heavens, you must be daft, child!” exclaimed Lady Sophia with a pained expression. “My bones ache from all this fresh air as it is,” she added in a boisterous aside to Lady Reaves.

  Nodding her purple turbaned head sagely, the other dowager concurred. “I can well sympathize with you, Sophia, being of delicate health myself. It is just as I was saying earlier about one making sacrifices for the young. But do see how well my Clarence and Lady Sarah are getting along?”

  “What about you, my dear?” Sir Albert asked Chloe. “You don’t seem to be suffering from this excess of fresh air?”

  “Hardly,” snorted Lady Sophia, cutting off Chloe’s reply. “And well you know it, Morley.” In another loud whisper for Edwina Reaves’s benefit, she added disgustedly, “The girl’s forever out in this putrid air and still remains hale and hearty.”

  “Just so,” Lady Reaves remarked cryptically. Her pale, watery eyes raked Chloe from head to toe, obviously finding fault with her healthy appearance.

  “Now, ladies, enough,” interrupted Sir Albert. Turning to Chloe, he smiled. “Come, my dear, if you’ll allow for an old man’s shuffling gate, these poor bones of mine could most definitely do with some exercise.”

  “You may be somewhat advanced in age, Sir Albert, but you are hardly in your dotage,” laughed Chloe as the spry old gentleman came to his feet, then admonished two dowagers to behave themselves while he was gone.

  Looping Chloe’s arm through his own, Sir Albert set a leisurely pace as they meandered along the grassy knoll by the edge of the small lake. A short distance ahead, they saw Mrs. Palmer and the Viscount with Lady Sarah, Sir Clarence, Monsieur Guyot and Mr. Pearson.

  “How are you faring, my dear?” asked Sir Albert kindly, drawing Chloe’s attention from the group in front of them.

  “Very well, Sir. As you just heard, my health is disgustingly robust.”

  Patting her hand on his arm, he chuckled appreciatively and, more pointedly, inquired, “And the rest of the company, how do you find them?”

  “They make a diverse group but congenial enough. Of course, it hardly matters since Aunt Sophia—“

  “Your aunt can manage quite nicely by herself when she has a mind to,” he said, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. “Besides, she’s got a damn superior henchwoman in Mrs. Rowes.”

  “Yes, Hannah is a dear,” Chloe replied, smiling fondly at the elderly gentleman. “Still, you know Lady Sophia tends to overindulge and become ill at these gatherings.”

  “True, but she’ll do just fine. You’ll see,” he reassured her, patting her arm again. “Trust me.”

  They caught up with the others, who had stopped to observe a mother duck and her babies nesting on a rock formation that jutted out into the water. Somehow in the course of exchanging pleasantries, Chloe found herself positioned next to the Viscount while Sir Albert had gained possession of Mrs. Palmer’s arm and ear. As one, they began the trek back to the gazebo with Camden hanging back to bring up the rear with Chloe.

  “How is your charge, Miss Woodforde?”

  “My charge?” asked Chloe, a little confused.

  “Why yes, Lady Milbanke. You act more like her nanny than a companion.”

  “Do I? Perhaps it is because I understand her.”

  “What could there possibly be to understand about an old dowager pining over her lost youth?”

  His tone was sarcastic, unforgiving, and Chloe raised her eyes to meet his cold dark stare. “You should know there is always more to a situation than what meets the eye, my lord.”

  He seemed surprised by her comment as one dark eyebrow lifted in challenge. “Pray, enlighten me.”

  She was pensive for a few moments before she answered. “Lady Milbanke never had any children, my lord. Add to that, her husband, though kind, was indifferent to her needs. She has always been comfortably fixed, even if no great fortune existed on either side. For such a woman with only ordinary looks and leading an ineffectual life, she often felt useless and overlooked by her peers.”

  “Is that how you visualize yourself?”

  Chloe threw him a side glance, then let out a chuckle. “Perhaps several years ago I may have, but I have no qualms about my position. Unlike so many of the ton, my parents’ marriage was the exception to the rule. Theirs was a love match and I became an extension of that love. My childhood memories are all happy ones.”

  For once Camden’s expression was unguarded, his midnight blue eyes regarded her with a faraway look. “You were indeed fortunate to have had loving parents.”

  “At any rate, Lady Sophia is important to me. I have no one other than an insufferably priggish cousin. My aunt has given me not merely a place to lay my head but her affections as well.”

  “Yet, you still remain answerable to her beck and call.” When Chloe nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders, he probed, “Have you no desire to be your own mistress?”

  “Of course, it would be unnatural of me not to want my own home and family. And to be honest, I was given that chance. My cousin arranged a match for me with a neighboring land owner, Squire Sidney Hampton. He was a widower and nice enough, I suppose. He married late the first time and must have been all of fifty years old with a parcel of unruly progeny still at home. Somehow, I could never endure the way he looked at me.” Involuntarily, Chloe shuddered and drew her shawl more snugly about her.

  Camden, in turn, moved closer but stopped himself from putting an arm about her. The absurd notion invaded his mind that he’d like to protect this unspoiled woman from the lustful Squire Hamptons of the world. Instead, he said, “You deserve much more.”

  “No, there you are wrong.” She saw that he meant to dispute her and hurried on. “Consider, if you will, o
ur way of life, those of us privileged enough to be born of the aristocracy. The many advantages and luxuries available to us are all but denied to the populace simply because the higher echelons of society have erected class barriers to ensure the masses are kept at bay. And remember, I did have my chance, my lord, for most marriages of the beau monde are contracted for social advancement or financial gain. So do not waste your pity on me. The choice was mine, and I alone am responsible for my present circumstances.”

  “Hence, you merrily play nursemaid to an old, drunken dowager,” he said with a cruel twist to his lower lips.

  “Nay, you are too harsh,” she said, bestowing a sad smile on him.

  “How so?” Her sincerity puzzled him. Any other woman would have taken this opportunity to gain his sympathy. Losing himself in the bright clear depths of her hazel eyes, he realized she was far prettier than he’d first thought. Even with her honey-gold tresses pulled back in a tight bun at the nape of her neck, her hair looked rich, silky. The yellow muslin gown with its high waist and a green satin sash tied under a full bosom enhanced her slender figure while the simplicity of the cut and design gave it an elegant appearance. Or was it the enchanting wearer who gave the gown its elegance?

  “My aunt drinks to deaden pain, some imagined, some real,” she continued. “As the third daughter of the Earl of Tilberry, she never came to grips with her life, always seeking more, but never able to achieve it. Mayhap this lack of fulfillment resulted from being barren. Who knows, but it is not my place to judge.”

  “Have you no fear of a similar emptiness as you grow older? After all, bound as you are in a servile position, your chances of attracting an eligible parti are greatly decreased.”

  His eyes dropped to the smooth expanse of creamy skin above the low cut bodice of her gown and thought it ludicrous that Miss Woodforde, whose pretty face and figure were enhanced by a quiet inner beauty he’d rarely encountered, would never marry. Just as unbidden, he was struck with the vision of the old squire, or another satyr like him, abusing this serene and elegant woman, and his blood ran hot with anger.

  His eyes remained fixed on her low décolletage, and he saw her raise a hand to her bosom in a protective gesture. Though this brought him out of his reverie and he redirected his gaze to her flushed countenance, he still felt ready to do murder. Only now, he wished to throttle some sense into the young woman for underestimating her own worth. Instead, he gritted his teeth.

  “A thousand pardons, Miss Woodforde, as my own behavior could only bring to mind your lecherous squire.”

  They had reached the gazebo, and without another word, Camden pivoted on his heel and strode toward Lord Howard and the Marquis. Thus abandoned, Chloe stood for a moment. His sudden anger was bewildering as were his references to Squire Hampton, and then his abrupt departure. She wondered what she had said to have upset him. Rejoining her aunt, Chloe mentally vowed to redouble her efforts to keep her distance from the perplexing nobleman.

  The picnickers were late returning to the Court, and this unfortunately resulted in Lady Milbanke missing her nap. Along with Sir Albert, Chloe helped the baroness climb the sloping lawn and, once inside the house, navigate the treacherous stairs. Only by making a great fuss over Lady Sophia’s toilette for dinner were Chloe and Hannah able to keep the already tipsy dowager from indulging in her usual afternoon tea, which the old gal invariably laced heavily with whiskey.

  Little time was left for Chloe to dress, but with Hannah’s assistance, she accomplished a lovely toilette, comprised of a mauve satin gown with tiers of ecru lace trimming the sleeves and neckline. Both women feared leaving Lady Milbanke to her own devices for too long, so Hannah simply swept Chloe’s honey-gold tresses back into a loose chignon, pulling a few curls forward to frame her face and soften the coiffeur’s austerity. The effect was stunning when pearl ear drops were added along with a matching single strand of beads about her throat. But scrutinizing her attire in a cheval mirror, Chloe considered how unadorned her costume was when compared to the more elaborate toilettes and gowns of the other women.

  During dinner Camden all but snubbed her, and Chloe suspected his disregard might partly be due to the plainness of her appearance. He never strayed from Mrs. Palmer’s side and only once glanced her way to give her the briefest of nods.

  And little wonder, thought Chloe. Any man would be attractive to the widow’s obvious charms, daringly outlined in a cream silk gown that hugged her curvaceous figure. Large rubies dangled from her ear lobes, and a diamond and ruby necklace drew the eyes to her abundant cleavage. Those rose bud lips and delicately flushed cheeks were no doubt from the artfully applied contents of a rouge pot, yet the effect enhanced the sultry beauty of the young widow.

  Lady Sophia took one look at the voluptuous beauty when they entered the drawing room and exploded, “Tsk, look at that expensive hussy!”

  “Hush, Aunt Sophia,” Chloe whispered. “Someone will hear you.”

  “Makes no difference if they do.” Disgustedly, the old gal tossed her cashmere shawl over one shoulder. “Baggage is baggage, no matter how well dressed one is.”

  Though elaborate, the meal was a quiet affair, except for Judith Palmer, who was particularly chatty with Leslie Pearson who sat on Chloe’s right. But since Sir Albert also partnered her and she never tired of his cheery disposition, Chloe quite enjoyed the dinner.

  Afterwards, Chloe found her company sought by Monsieur Guyot. Although his manner was courteous, he exhibited a coolness in his address that had not been evident at lunch. He stuck to the most innocuous topics, causing her to wonder why he had bothered to single her out. And strangely, she’d twice caught the Viscount scowling at her while the Frenchman paid her court.

  Since she’d forgone her nap, Lady Milbanke was not faring well, especially after she’d consumed several glasses of vintage wine at dinner. As the evening progressed, she became quarrelsome, and consequently, Chloe had her hands full until Lady Sophia agreed to retire early. Still, besides being unsteady on her feet, the dowager was hardly cooperative. When Chloe staggered slightly after struggling to get her aunt out of a chair, Sir Albert quickly came to her rescue by taking most of the burden of Lady Sophia’s weight. Together, they walked the intoxicated dowager up the long stairway.

  “Thank you, Sir Albert,” Chloe said, heaving a sigh of relief once they’d reached Lady Milbanke’s bedchamber.

  “Any time, my dear, you need only ask,” he replied before directing a reproving gaze on his lady friend. “As for you, Sophia, be a good gel and don’t hassle your niece or your henchwoman tonight.”

  “Off with you, Morley,” Lady Sophia rebuffed him, her speech markedly slurred. “I’ve no patience with the lot of you. ‘Tis all that dratted fresh air today that’s made me ill.”

  Stumbling into the room with Chloe right on her heels, Lady Sophia made a grand gesture to slam the door in the old gentleman’s face.

  Unperturbed, Sir Albert reached out one hand, grabbed the door knob, and closed the door gently. As he ambled down the hall, the ladies heard his indulgent chuckle.

  In a glance, Hannah, dutifully waiting for her mistress, assessed Lady Milbanke’s condition and rolled her eyes expressively. Between both women, it took considerable effort to ready the contrary dowager for bed. She insisted on arguing over every little thing either Chloe or Hannah did.

  Where is Lady Caro’s leash?” asked Chloe when at last they’d gotten her aunt tucked under the coverlet.

  “You can’t be thinking of taking that animal out now?” Hannah said.

  “Don’t be a booby! Of course she ain’t,” bellowed Lady Sophia, piercing the two of them with a jaundiced eye. In the next moment she sat up straight and commanded both women to be quiet or get out of her room.

  “She had quite a lot to drink today and should go right to sleep,” Chloe whispered to Hannah. “You had better stay with her for awhile in case she does become ill. But it is too early for me to retire.” She held up a hand when the abigail
made to protest. “Please, Hannah, Lady Caro is more than adequate protection for me on the estate grounds. The most dreadful thing that could happen is that a raccoon might accost me. And before that could happen, Lady Caro would warn it away.”

  With a disapproving grimace, Hannah handed over the leash, admonishing Chloe over and over to be careful and remain close to the house.

  *** Chapter 5 ***

  Outside the wind had shifted, whipping up a brisk breeze. The moon was still bright, however, and its glow ably penetrated through the thick foliage of the woods, lighting patches of the forest floor. In his black evening clothes, the Viscount’s large physique melded with the gloomy outline of the old oak he leaned against. His quick eye caught Raikes’s stealthy movements. He never actually heard the wiry agent advance toward him, much like one of the nocturnal creatures of the woods.

  “Anything new to report?” asked Camden, stepping out from under the shadow of the huge tree.

  “There’s some happenings, Gov. The locals, they’ve been talking of a stranger going about the hedge taverns. He asked directions to Clairmont Court and the prospects of getting work there. Ain’t so unusual, being that the Marquis’s got house guests, only they say this one sounds like a Frog.” Raikes turned his head and spat at the tree roots. “Anything at the house?”

  “Someone was watching it last night.”

  “Now that’s right interesting. Know what for?”

  “Unfortunately, I had to rescue a damsel walking her blasted dog. So happens he was gone by the time I could get loose. He could be the contact.”

  “I’ll keep me peepers open. Be good advice for you too, Gov. Heard this cove ain’t your regular type. They say he’s a bruiser. Wouldn’t do to go a round with him.”

  “Already have,” answered Camden, unnettled. “He’s big and mean, all right. Fellow’s also plagued with a glass jaw.”

  “You’ve always been handy with your fives,” Raikes chuckled appreciatively over this bit of information. “Same time tomorrow night, Gov?”