by Jenna Jaxon
“I stopped by the farm as we journeyed in yesterday. He had apparently died the day before. I inquired, but Mrs. Tate was too grief-stricken to be able to tell me much, other than her husband’s leg had suddenly begun to pain him. He’d rubbed the spot where Mr. Lambert had set the bone, trying to ease it when he’d gasped and slumped in the chair.”
“Well, I must say, the man has left me in the lurch,” Lord Kersey interjected, a perturbed frown on his face. “At least he’d gotten his crops in. You are making inquiries, aren’t you, Granger? When you told me yesterday I said we need to find a new tenant quickly, so he can move in before the weather turns.”
In the midst of taking a handkerchief out of her reticule, Maria froze, then raised her gaze to the annoyed countenance of Lord Kersey. “You’ll turn them out of their home? When the family is devastated by Mr. Tate’s death?”
“Maria.” Jane pressed her lips together and grasped her hand, giving it a hard squeeze.
The new earl’s brows rose. “They should have been removed when the man was injured, once it was clear he’d never walk properly again. Mr. Granger should have seen to it then.” Lord Kersey turned to her and his features relaxed. “He did tell me, however, that he was following your orders to let them remain on the farm. A charitable notion, my lady, but scarcely a practical one. Tenant farms must be run by able men or the estate will not survive.”
“The Tates’ current tenancy still has three years to run, my lord.” Mr. Granger spoke up, with a glance at Maria. “I did suggest that Mrs. Tate could run the farm for the next few years until their oldest son will be of age to take it over.”
Sending Mr. Granger a grateful glance, Maria wiped her eyes and raised her chin. The steward was an extraordinarily kind man.
“And I said at the time I preferred to have able-bodied men running my farms.” Lord Kersey waved the suggestion away and glared at his steward. “You will see to it, won’t you, Mr. Granger?”
“Of course, my lord. I will ride to Wickford tomorrow and post an advertisement. Word will spread fast enough that we should receive inquiries within the week.” He glanced at Maria, his blue eyes apologetic. “With luck you should have a new tenant by Christmas.”
Maria gasped, which brought another, harder squeeze of her hand from Jane. If these attempts to silence her continued, her hand would be sore as the dickens tomorrow.
“Splendid.” Lord Kersey was suddenly all smiles. “I expect this Christmas to be one of the merriest my family and I have ever celebrated.”
“What will you do, my lord?” Jane smiled brilliantly at the earl. “My husband’s family usually gathers to attend church followed by an enormous Christmas dinner.”
“We have spent the last few years in Virginia.” The countess spoke up for the first time. “The celebrations there were much different than here.”
“Much different.” Lord Kersey rejoined the conversation, coming to stand beside the sofa. “We were often invited to attend house parties where there was hunting during the day and dancing and gambling in the evenings.”
“And an excellent table set the entire time.” Lord Wetherby sauntered toward them. “Mr. Morgan at Heart’s Ease in Chesterfield always served suckling pig along with roast goose and a delectable cornbread stuffing to which his cook added oysters from the Chesapeake Bay.” He eyed Maria. “I can almost taste it now.”
Lord Kersey glanced around at the little gathering, his gaze coming to rest on Maria. “This year, in our new home, I propose a similar house party to celebrate the season of goodwill. The invitations will be sent out this week and our guests should arrive around the twentieth of December and remain with us through the New Year.”
“Excellent, Father.” Mr. Garrett nodded vigorously.
“What a splendid plan, my dear.” Lady Kersey’s face lit up. “I shall begin preparations immediately.”
“Of course, we shall wish you to join us as well, Lady Kersey. Both you and your cousin will be most welcome to the gathering.” His lordship’s gaze seemed to burn into Maria’s face, as if daring her to refuse.
“That is most kind of you, my lord.” Almost biting her tongue at the words, Maria smiled back at him. After the way he proposed to treat the poor Tates, the last thing she wanted to do was take part in some extravagant party with Lord Kersey posing as the beneficent host. However, with her own position almost as precarious as Mrs. Tate’s, she could ill afford to risk the enmity of the man who could turn her out as quickly as he did his tenants.
“Yes, very kind indeed, Lord Kersey.” Jane nodded her agreement, beaming at the Kerseys. Maria would have to speak to her as soon as they returned to the dower house. Perhaps some illness might be arranged to befall them just as the house party was beginning.
The door opened, admitting the butler carrying the silver tea service.
“Ah, thank you, Chambers.” Lady Kersey nodded to the small table in front of her and the servant put the tray down before her. “That will be all.” After the man had left, she looked brightly at Maria and Jane. “And how do you take your tea, ladies? There is nothing like a good cup of tea on a chilly day to raise the spirits, don’t you think?”
* * *
Alone in her chamber at last, Margery, the new Countess of Kersey, sat before the mirror perched on her toilette table, dragging her new silver-backed brush through her dark hair, her arms heavy with exhaustion. If these last weeks were any indication of what she must do to take her place as the lady of Kersey Hall, she would need an additional lady’s maid at least to help prepare her for this new role.
The past three months had been a whirlwind that had swept up her family and plunked them down in a strange new world. Her husband, William, had had no idea he’d been in line for the earldom. Their lives had been lived largely in Virginia, in relaxed and gracious if somewhat primitive surroundings. Two years ago they’d returned to England for her father’s funeral, to dispose of a parcel of land she’d been left in his will, and enjoy the delights of the London Season before returning to their home in Dinwiddie. The prospect of returning to that life, however, had been irrevocably thwarted when Mr. Clarke had contacted them regarding her husband’s lineage.
The brush slipped from her fingers and Margery banged it on the table. Her shoulders sagged. She so longed to return to their sprawling, white clapboard house, Garland, along the banks of the James River in Virginia. Kersey Hall was at least three times the size, with three or maybe even four times the servants. Margery shuddered. She disliked intensely to meet new people, even servants. Their arrival here in Suffolk had proved a nightmare for her, although William and their sons had taken to their new roles in the lap of luxury with shocking ease.
Anthony had garnered quite a reputation as a rake since his father’s elevation to the peerage, something she worried about constantly. A young gentleman should sow his wild oats, but Anthony’s behavior of late had become excessive. She’d have William speak to him once more, now they were somewhat settled here. James had always been quieter in his tastes, thank goodness, and that had not changed. William had actually begun to consider allowing both sons to take over the Kersey townhouse in London next Season, while he hired the most fashionable address he could find in the most prestigious neighborhood for him and her. She already dreaded the hectic pace she would have to adhere to, and it was at least six months in the future. Her life in Virginia, once so common and ordinary, she now deemed a paradise.
The door to her chamber opened.
“I am already in my gown, Mason.” The new maid had begun to make it a habit to check one last time before going to bed, to see if Margery required anything. Usually, as now, there was nothing to do. “You may go.”
“I will pass the message along, Lady Kersey, when I see her again.” William chuckled as he closed the door.
Margery whirled around and started up. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d be coming to me tonight.” In keeping with an apparent longstanding and awkwardly strict Kersey
family tradition, the earl and countess slept in separate chambers unless the lord sought an amorous visit. Usually Margery welcomed such attentions from William. Theirs had been an arranged marriage, true; however, over the past twenty-five years they had developed a fondness for one another. Whenever he’d come to bed, a dark green banyan covering his tall frame and a matching nightcap with the tip swinging jauntily over his shoulder, as now, she’d enjoyed his attention thoroughly. Tonight, however . . . tonight she really must plead a headache. If not, she would be so weary she would likely be performing her duties while sound asleep.
William waved her back in her seat. “After our little tea party I thought it best we were of one mind regarding the Dowager Lady Kersey and Anthony.”
Lowering herself back onto her chair, Margery cocked her head. “The dowager and Anthony? What on earth do you mean?”
“I didn’t think you saw his interest in her this afternoon.” William paced over to the high bed and leaned back against it, arms crossed. “You really must pay more attention to what goes on around you now, my dear. Social interactions are everything. A good hostess is always aware of everything happening at her entertainments.” He frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. “Anthony did not bother to hide his interest in the dowager. And I can see why he would be interested. She’s young, pretty, with a frailty that is becoming in a woman.” Her husband eyed her, and smiled. “I can certainly understand that. But now that he is heir to an earldom, we need to look much higher for his bride. Little Maria is totally unacceptable as a prospective wife for him.”
“But she seems so sweet, William.” Margery had been very taken with the young widow, whose doubly tragic circumstances she’d been apprised of before they’d left London to come to Suffolk. “If she returns his interest I see no reason why they should not marry. She could exert a much needed steadying influence on Anthony.”
Her husband waved that argument away as if shooing a fly. “You really must think more in terms of the overall, my dear. Anthony will someday be the Earl of Kersey. As such, he should choose a bride who will bring in a sizeable dowry to help expand the family coffers. The dowager countess, from everything I learned from Mr. Clarke, is a veritable pauper.”
“She is?” Margery cocked her head from side to side. “But how can that be? She must have had settlements drawn up when she married the last earl.”
“They eloped, my dear.” William’s grin spread across his face as if someone had handed him a present. “No settlements, no jointure. The lady lives in Francis House solely because I allow her to. Until now she’s been drawing money from the estate for her living expenses, but that will have to stop.” Tapping his chin with his forefinger, he wandered toward the blazing fireplace. “Yes, she really must be turned out as soon as possible.”
“But, William, surely that is not necessary?” Alarmed, Margery rose and hurried toward her husband. She’d hoped she might find a much needed friend in Maria. “Her upkeep cannot be more than a pittance given the wealth of the Kersey estate.”
“Oh, her expenses are not the reason she will be turned out.” He looked down at her, eyebrows raised in that supercilious way he had that always made her feel stupid. “Anthony’s interest in her, my dear. We cannot have her forever tempting him.”
“If you warn our son she is not an acceptable bride, he will abide by your decision.” Anthony had always obeyed his father, albeit more reluctantly of late. Their elevation in status had made him even more arrogant toward everyone, as if he truly could do whatever he pleased without repercussions.
“Oh, I have no doubt about that. Anthony is nothing if not shrewd about a business deal. No, I don’t fear that he will marry her.” William scowled, his lips in a twisted snarl. “I fear he will seduce her. He’s never had any scruples about who occupied his bed. The more the merrier has been his motto since he was sixteen.”
Margery bit her lip, but could say nothing. It was not a charge she could deny. “I understand that, but she is a widow, although not yet quite out of mourning.” She shrugged. Hers was not the place to censure what a woman did for her own pleasure. “Still, if she is a willing partner, what would be the harm?”
“Every harm in the world, Margery, if she began to increase.” He blew out his breath contemptuously. “Anthony’s string of bastards is long enough as it is. Those girls were bought off with trinkets. This one he would have to marry. And our hopes for a strategic marriage would be crushed to dust. No,” he said, shaking his head and turning away. “She will go and soon. The question is, should it be before or after the Christmas party? I am afraid news of her dismissal might put a damper on the festivities, but every day she stays she is a temptation for our son.”
“Not necessarily, my dear.” If Margery had learned anything in her twenty-five years of marriage to this man, it was how to reason with him. “It’s not as if the dowager countess were staying under our roof and therefore would be a constant enticement. Anthony might very well not see her again until the party. You know he cannot seek her out nor visit her at the house without my presence. He’s not a fool, you know.”
“Perhaps.” William stood at the door, gazing down at her, massaging his chin as he always did when mulling over something. “It might not become us in Society’s eyes to turn her out on the eve of the season of Christian charity.”
“I agree wholeheartedly, my dear.” If Margery could keep Maria close by for even a short time, perhaps she could confide in her about William’s concerns regarding Anthony. Once the widow was on her guard, surely she would avoid him at all costs, if it meant she could remain at Francis House. And in the meantime, Margery could subtly suggest to James that the dowager countess might be a good match for him. If he married Maria, not only would he have gained an excellent wife whom his brother would not dare touch, but she would have gained a daughter-in-law she could cherish as both kinswoman and friend. “I think it best to wait until after the Christmas party is over.” Smiling into her husband’s face, she took his hand and drew him toward the bed. She always caught more flies with honey. “One never knows what will happen in a new year.”
Chapter Six
The next afternoon Maria sat in the cozy downstairs drawing room, bouncing little Jane on her knee, making the baby laugh and coo as she blew bubbles and slobbered all down her chin.
“You will be quite unpresentable, darling, and Nurse will have to come and change you.” Maria made a buzzing sound with her lips and the baby shrieked with laughter.
Little Jane had grown so much in the past six months, Maria could scarcely take it in. Her daughter could sit up unassisted, played incessantly with a particular doll she’d had since birth that was therefore quite grubby, and had begun to babble, repeating the “b” sound in short, staccato bursts, then switching to “m.” She repeated that sound so often Maria had gotten quite excited several times, believing she’d actually spoken the word “Mama.” False hope, but so exciting nevertheless.
The door opened.
“Come see what your namesake is doing now, Jane.” Maria laughed as the baby stuck out her tongue and blew, making a sputtering sound that Maria found hysterically funny. She looked up to find Saunders, the butler, standing just inside the room, Mr. Granger in the doorway.
“Mr. Granger, my lady.” The servant bowed swiftly, trying valiantly to maintain his decorum, then turned and fled past the steward, who had stepped inside.
“Mr. Granger.” Grasping Jane in her arms, Maria struggled to look at his face. Of all people to appear when she was so disheveled, the steward was absolutely the last one she would have wanted. Her hair was straggling around her face where the baby had grabbed it. Her gown was rumpled from where Little Jane had bounced incessantly while they waited. She certainly didn’t want to know what she looked like, although Mr. Granger must be getting an eyeful. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” She glanced around the room, but nothing came to mind save, “Won’t you please take a seat?”
Again, t
he last thing she wanted with her appearance so ragged, but it was out now.
“I didn’t mean to intrude, my lady.” His smile was genuinely kind. “I see you have your hands full.”
“We are waiting for Lady John for tea. I thought to include the baby would be a welcome surprise.”
At that moment little Jane let out a wail, pushing her legs against Maria’s leg and leaning precariously as though she would launch herself backwards onto the floor.
“Oh, gracious.” Maria tried to grasp her child, but the squirming infant was like so much quicksilver. Any moment she would likely wriggle out of Maria’s grasp and fall headfirst onto the Persian carpet. Panic shot through her as her grip on Jane began to loosen.
“Here we go, Lady Jane.” Mr. Granger stepped neatly in, seized the little girl around the waist, and carried her harmlessly to rest against his chest.
Wide-eyed, the baby stared at him, the surprise on her face turning Maria’s fright into laughter.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Granger.” Maria sagged with relief. She needed to find more time to spend with her daughter so she would become accustomed to handling her on her own. Her cousin had frowned on the suggestion, but Maria had stood up to her. She wanted to take care of her child as much as she possibly could.
“Not a’tall. I’ve always had a good hand with babies.” He shifted Jane to his other shoulder, jogging her slightly. It must be working because her wailing and struggling had ceased. She seemed in awe of Mr. Granger. “I’ve had my share of taking over with them when I’ve visited tenants.” He smiled and Jane burbled in delight. “They seem to like me.”
“Well, this one does at least. Will you come to me, darling?” Maria held out her arms and the baby eagerly leaned out and put her arms around her mother’s neck. “There we go.” Bouncing the child slightly, to hopefully keep her contented, Maria turned her attention to Mr. Granger. “Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Granger?”
