Beastly Lords Collection

by Baily, Sydney Jane

  She stayed even longer than she had the night before, and when she did leave, he felt the weight of guilt settle heavily upon him as he scrabbled in the drawer for the bottle.

  Uncorking it, he sipped and then returned it to its place before considering one problem.

  Gray had returned and exclaimed favorably over his improvement. No longer listless and sitting in the darkened room unable to give a fig about anything, Cam had been revived by Margaret and her loving ministrations.

  Unfortunately, his friend knew Cam was still taking laudanum. Gray hadn’t asked him or even mentioned it. Yet Gray, who had witnessed his previous attempt at stopping, well knew if Cam weren’t still enjoying the benefits of opium, he would be a shell of a man, writhing on his bed. He would have been unable to attend dinner as a gracious host, nor, he suspected, could he have made such exquisite love to his fiancée.

  His whole focus would be on crawling out of his own skin, moving his cramping muscles, and wondering how to get a drop of opium tincture without anyone noticing.

  What if Margaret mentioned to Gray how Cam had supposedly stopped?

  If Gray realized Margaret believed it, would he gainsay her? Would he go out of his way to disabuse her of her incorrect notion? Cam sincerely hoped not. He had a feeling she would take it hard, indeed, to discover he had been dishonest, no matter his good intentions.

  In any case, if they loved him, they wouldn’t discuss his personal business amongst themselves. Which was what he would count on—that they loved him.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  With his worrisome thoughts of the night before still in his head the next morning, Cam was determined to be downstairs early. As host, he would be congenial and attentive, and his estate manager need never have reason to spend time alone with Margaret.

  Within minutes of Cyril seating him in the east dining room, Cam was startled as the Angsley children came squealing in, halting in their footsteps when they saw him. They were followed a moment later by the fifth one and their nanny, who held his leading strings in one hand. The woman hesitated. She had not gone to the river with them the day prior as Lord and Lady Angsley considered themselves broadminded parents who liked to look after their own as much as possible, or so his mother had told him.

  And see where that had got them? Cam thought. Nearly with a drowned boy.

  Regaining her composure at seeing the earl of the manor already awake and at the table, the middle-aged woman curtsied.

  “Apologies, my lord. The wee ones do rise early. I usually get them away from the lord and lady so they can finish their sleep undisturbed. Which room shall I take them to? I noticed you don’t have a nursery.”

  Not yet, he thought.

  “If you help oversee them, they may stay here. Food will be brought in shortly, and if there’s anything they don’t like, we shall ask for something else.”

  The nanny bobbed another curtsey. “Very well, my lord.”

  Meanwhile, the little ones, except the very youngest who was still firmly tethered, were trotting around the table, full of energy. Around and around, like horses in a paddock, only far noisier and apt to bump his chair.

  Instead of feeling annoyed, Cam, who’d recently had a dose of laudanum upon awakening, laughed.

  “Delightful,” he said. “And there’s George, looking hale and hearty.”

  Indeed, the boy seemed to have completely recovered from his soggy ordeal. Shyly, George smiled.

  When two maids came in carrying trays of food, both hot and cold, for the sideboard, the nanny cautioned the children to stand still. To the woman’s credit and Cam’s admiration, they obeyed.

  After the staff had served him and left, Cam invited them all to sit though usually, of course, they would dine in a nursery or, as they had the day before, in the kitchen. The nanny shuttled back and forth with plates of food for each one.

  For his part, it had done Cam no good to tell his staff he had only the barest of appetites. They carried on as they always had. Thus, his plate was weighed down with his favorite breakfast of kippers, back bacon, grilled tomatoes, fried mushrooms, a poached egg on top of buttered toast, two bangers, and a grilled oatcake. The children, however, seemed to be extremely picky eaters.

  Fascinated, Cam looked on as the nanny gave them each a single slice of buttered toast heaped with sweet preserves and a couple rashers of bacon.”

  “Is that all they’re having?” he asked, spearing his poached egg so the yoke ran over his toast.

  The nanny paused as she poured milk for each child.

  “If they finish that and want more, then they shall have it, and not before. I don’t like to waste food on those who don’t eat it.” She sent a meaningful glance around the table.

  Cam was impressed. Nonetheless, he hoped she didn’t notice how little of his own breakfast he ate. He feared she might start shoveling it into his mouth or give him a reprimand.

  “I do think that’s very sensible of you, Mrs. …?”

  “Mrs. Wendall, my lord.”

  He would consider poaching the woman off his uncle and aunt when the time came for Margaret and him to need a nanny. Stealing other people’s well-trained servants by offering a little extra in their wages was the tried and true method of getting good help.

  As if thinking of her had conjured the very lady herself, Margaret entered with Eleanor close behind. He’d learned she was often an early riser from her first visit.

  “Good morning, ladies. We are already dining, as you can see.”

  The beaming smile of amusement on his betrothed’s face warmed him. Conceivably, she approved of his paternal display, surrounded by behaved youngsters.

  “You seem to have everything well in hand,” she remarked, going to the sideboard with her sister where they would help themselves.

  “Honestly, no. Not without Mrs. Wendall.”

  The girls looked around to see the nanny, who’d taken a corner chair and now offered a little wave.

  “Good morning,” both the Blackwood sisters said.

  “Have you eaten?” Margaret asked her, and Cam felt a twinge of shame. There he was, stuffing his face as were the little Angsleys while the nanny sat with nothing.

  What a potato root he was!

  “Yes, I have, miss. Don’t you worry.”

  “A cup of tea, perhaps?” Margaret persisted. “I don’t suppose you get a minute to yourself except when these little ones are eating or sleeping.”

  The nanny shrugged in good-natured agreement.

  “I wouldn’t say no to a cuppa, miss, but I can help myself if no one minds.”

  “Absolutely,” Cam told her, wishing he’d had the thoughtfulness of these sisters from a different class. When one grew up with nearly invisible servants, one assumed they neither ate nor drank. Nor slept for that matter.

  As Mrs. Wendall poured herself some tea, sopped up a milk spill, and gave two children a sausage, Margaret and Eleanor took the remaining seats.

  “What is on our program for today?” Margaret asked.

  “Will you take us fishing again?” the oldest boy asked, and to Cam’s surprise, he was speaking to Eleanor.

  “If I did, it would have to be only you and your older sister, or we will need more adults to watch over your siblings. We’ll see, shall we?”

  Cam nearly laughed at how grown up Eleanor sounded. But then, like Beryl, she could be coming out to London society in a year if Lady Blackwood deemed her daughter ready.

  “Lady Cambrey may have something in mind for today,” Margaret put in, then looked to Cam, her cheeks pinkening beautifully as their gazes locked.

  “I’m not sure. There isn’t much to do in Bedfordshire unless one journeys by carriage. But, of course, the children have been everywhere local. Their home is only a few miles down the road. I believe all except Beryl are going home later this afternoon.”

  There were groans all around.

  And then in walked Gray, who normally came for meals. His cottage was roomy,
big enough for a family, but he kept no staff.

  “There you are, ol’ chap,” Cam said, as the man glanced around at so many in the small dining room. “You’ve come to the right place for happy children clearing their plates.”

  “I see that I have.” Gray addressed the youngest Angsleys. “As your pony rides were postponed yesterday by Master George’s unplanned swim, we’ll do them after you’ve finished eating.”

  The children cheered.

  “And then maybe we can take a wagon ride to my best orchard. I’ll let you pick some juicy apples if you stay clear of the tree fairies.”

  The children squealed this time, possibly a little alarmed.

  Cam laughed. “All of our tree fairies are Angsley fairies and will do you no harm since you are family.”

  Gray shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Merely trying to create a little excitement.”

  “I, for one, will be thrilled to see the fairies,” Eleanor said, without a hint of irony.

  Cam nearly thought she believed in them. Then he saw her wink at Gray. Yes, she was nearly ready for her first Season.

  “Where’s Beryl?” Gray asked. Since the man’s parents were from Lord and Lady Angsley’s estate, he had grown up with Beryl under foot as much as Cam had, like a little sister.

  “Still abed,” Eleanor offered. “We stayed up quite late talking in her room.”

  Cam shot Margaret a glance, and she raised her finely sculpted eyebrows. Hopefully, the girls had heard nothing of Eleanor’s older sister creeping back into her own room after a night of pleasure with him.

  “Will you ladies come out and see the ponies?” Gray asked.

  Eleanor readily agreed. Cam had been told she had a love of nature, especially animals. However, before Margaret could decide to go along, too, Cam spoke up.

  “As for Margaret, would you like to spend some time discussing the wedding plans?”

  Gray’s head swiveled toward him, and then he made a face only Cam could see, which entailed puckering his lips and closing his eyes. Cam grinned, holding back a laugh.

  Luckily, Margaret seemed not to care about ponies. “Yes, I would.”

  And soon everyone left the room, allowing the servants to clean the table and reset it for the rest of the visitors.

  When the nanny and her charges along with Eleanor and Gray had left for the stables, Cam wheeled himself out to the veranda with Margaret leading the way.

  “I like it out here with you,” he said. “It will always remind me of your agreeing to marry me.”

  “We don’t truly have wedding plans to go over, do we?”

  He shrugged. “Not unless you care whether we have mutton or beef at the meal, or what color flowers decorate the church. I care only about standing beside you and having us declared man and wife.”

  “Besides, no matter which decisions I try to make, I believe your mother and mine will have the final say.” Margaret said it with a smile, as if she didn’t mind in the least. “What shall we talk about then?”

  “A million details of our upcoming life, I suppose. For instance, do you like my bedroom or shall we choose another one?”

  She dipped her head. “I like the one you have and will be pleased to keep it as is.” Then she frowned. “That is, unless …”

  “Unless?”

  “John, you haven’t invited other women into your room, have you?”

  If he’d been drinking, he would have spluttered. What on earth did she think of his previous life as a bachelor?

  “Certainly not! My mother would never allow it.”

  He laughed at his joke, but Margaret wasn’t smiling.

  “I’m only fooling, my love. The answer is no.”

  “Good,” she said. “Next question.”

  “Will you mind spending the Parliamentary session with me in London, or will you prefer to remain here at Turvey?”

  “Not only shall I go with you, but I expect us to attend social events and to dance. You may recall, I do like to waltz. As I will be a married lady, I can enjoy myself without wondering who will be on my dance card.”

  “I shall be the one worrying who is on your dance card.”

  “Foolish man. You know I won’t have one.”

  “True enough. What about when we have children? Will you stay in Town?”

  She paled slightly, and he remarked again how guileless her expressions were.

  “I would like to be by your side regardless,” she said. “Parliament is in session a long time, and I would miss you dreadfully. Do you not want me there?”

  “Of course I do. Though, I would not force you to be in Town. I know many women wish to lead separate lives from their husbands.”

  “And take lovers,” Margaret said off-handedly.

  What on earth?

  “That is entirely forbidden,” Cam insisted, trying to keep his tone light, though a needle of jealousy lanced him at the thought of her with any other man. “Do I need to order a chastity girdle along with your wedding gown?”

  Laughing, she shook her head. “I meant the husbands, you dunce. It is common knowledge men go to their clubs and then afterward directly to their mistresses.”

  Tilting her head, she asked, “Do I need to request a … is there a man’s equivalent for a chastity girdle?”

  “Yes,” Cam told her, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. “It’s called love and devotion. Those will keep me true to you for the rest of our lives.”

  She unleashed her spectacular smile upon him.

  “Perfect.”

  *

  Except for when her sister asked her to sit for a sketch, which Eleanor wished to gift to her soon-to-be brother-in-law, Maggie let the other visitors enjoy any events Lady Cambrey or even Grayson had planned. For her part, she was satisfied remaining by John’s side, playing cards and chess, and finding out neither of them cared for losing. Fortunately, they were well enough matched they took turns winning.

  “Will this be a normal day at Turvey House for us?” Maggie asked after he’d taken her queen.

  Cam took his gaze from the board.

  “I enjoy spending time with you whatever we’re doing. Yet, when my cast comes off and my leg is strong, I think it would be enjoyable to ride together. There are many beautiful areas better seen from atop a horse than in a carriage. What’s more, if you’re willing, I would like us to journey to the Continent. Do you have an interest?”

  “Oh, I do.”

  “I recall you speak French exceedingly well.”

  “Oui, monsieur.”

  He chuckled. “I will let you speak for us both then, for my accent is atrocious, I’ve been told.”

  “So, we shall journey to France, and where else? Have you been to Italy?”

  “No, I haven’t. I was waiting to take the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known to one of the most romantic places.”

  They smiled at each for a long moment.

  “I should very much like to go to Greece, also. If it’s safe,” Maggie added.

  “Let’s take in Lord Elgin’s statuary in London first and then we’ll see about a trip to Greece,” he said. “I will want to go on ample walking tours after this experience.”

  “Maybe closer to home, too. The Yorkshire moors,” she suggested.

  “We’ll climb Ben Nevis, too.”

  “What are you two plotting?” It was Grayson. He tossed himself into a chair.

  Margaret knew her smile was huge. “All the places we shall go after John is completely healed.”

  “I’m happy for you both. However, after a day with that lot,” Grayson gestured to the children who were now running in circles around their nanny in the far field, “I think a sedentary holiday is the one for me.”

  Her fiancé shook his head. “When I’m out of this blasted chair, I don’t think I shall ever sit again.”

  “Understandable. Speaking of the pushchair, while I was in London, I inquired as you asked me about the identity of the driver.”

  �
��Oh dear,” Maggie said, hating to think of the needless loss of life.

  John patted her hand. “Anyone we knew?”

  Grayson shook his head. “I don’t believe so. A man named Robert Carruthers. Old enough at three and twenty to have known better, but young enough one can almost forgive him.”

  “Any family?” John asked. “No wife, I hope.”

  “No wife. Son of a well-to-do businessman, something to do with wool. Victoria has gone and made the father a baronet over his fine fiber. If it’s any consolation to the parents, the dead man had a twin brother and a couple other siblings.”

  Maggie considered if the unthinkable had happened, and John had perished instead.

  “It may sound terrible to say as each person is an individual and as important as any other. Still, in my limited experience with death and losing loved ones, I believe it must be a small consolation, indeed, to the rest of his family. When we lost my father, had my mother also died, it would have destroyed us. Though all us sisters were nearly adults, we would have felt like orphans. And think of Lady Cambrey. If John had died without any siblings, I’m sure she would have been utterly inconsolable. It would have been the loss of a family’s entire generation in one fell swoop.”

  Placing her other hand on top of John’s, they stared at each other a moment. His mother aside, Maggie couldn’t conceive of facing life without this man.

  “I have never thought of myself as a family’s entire generation. I don’t think I like it. Far too much pressure.”

  Grayson laughed. “To think it’s come down to you, old boy. Lord Anguish.”

  Silence descended as John looked at him, his jaw tightening.

  “What did you call me?”

  John’s childhood friend never seemed bothered one bit by his moods, or whether he was going to cause one. For Maggie, it felt like an unfamiliar and definitely unpleasant new worry.

  Grayson merely smiled. “It’s what I heard a few people calling you when I started making my inquiries. Some members of the ton think they are witty.”