Elinor ordered the two best guest rooms prepared for them. They were not rooms she particularly admired, but the girls might enjoy having a hand in the decoration. A smaller room would do for the governess, whoever she might be. And if she turned out to be a timid mouse or a gloomy drudge, she could be replaced.
The next difficulty came when Harry and Elinor arrived at Aunt Georgina’s house, a Georgian villa in which nothing had been changed in more than fifty years. That was interesting, but it was not the problem. Or rather the problems.
Harry’s sisters seemed reasonably pleased to see him. Or more than reasonably. Olivia had flown at him like a cannonball when she saw him. Julia was reasonably pleased to be told they were removing to London.
However, they did not seem pleased to discover that Harry had a wife. When she was presented to them, they stood there in dresses of dusty black—obviously dyed by someone who had done a poor job of it—and stared at her with flat, unfriendly eyes.
“You never told us you were married,” Julia said. The words were for Harry, but the glare was all for Elinor.
“Well, I haven’t been married very long,” Harry said, trying to sound reasonable. Elinor could have told him that reason wasn’t going to work.
“Still, you could have written.” The younger girl, Olivia, stuck out her lower lip. “I suppose this means we will have to live with Mother.”
“It means nothing of the sort,” said Elinor briskly. “Your brother would not hear of such a thing, and neither would I. You will be living with us.” She was not accustomed to being disliked, certainly not at a first meeting, and was not sure how to proceed. However, acting confident was probably a good idea.
“Off in the nursery wing, I suppose, so you can ignore us while still doing your duty,” Julia said bitterly.
“We thought you would come back and this time you would make things better.” Olivia looked at Harry reproachfully.
Julia sniffed. “We should have known better. Nothing will change.”
“Stop this nonsense.” Harry seemed to grow taller as she looked at him, and his sisters seemed shocked into silence. “Of course things will change. Didn’t I promise that when I came back I would take care of you?” His voice softened. “Well, I have come back, and now I can take care of you. I am the earl now, remember?”
His sisters looked at him uncertainly. “What does that mean?” asked Olivia.
“It means,” said Elinor, smiling proudly, “that your brother is the one who decides things like where you will live and what you may do.”
“Not our mother?” Julia looked doubtful.
“Definitely not our mother,” Harry said firmly. “Now, do you have a governess with you? Any maids of your own?” They shook their heads. Their governess had been dismissed when she protested that old gowns dyed black made inadequate mourning attire for an earl’s daughters.
Not even a governess. Elinor shook her head. Olivia was only twelve. What had her mother been thinking? Stupid question. Had she ever heard anything of Harry’s parents that would lead her to think they were capable of rational thought? That would lead her to think they gave their children any thought at all?
Harry turned to his wife. “It was sensible of you to bring Martha. She can supervise the girls’ packing.”
She didn’t remind him that he had been annoyed to find the maid in the carriage on the journey down. She simply nodded and said to the girls, “Bring only the things you want to keep. We will do some shopping in London. You obviously need new clothes.”
They looked at their brother, who nodded in turn. As they left the room, Elinor could have sworn she heard a small giggle. The thought of new clothes, even mourning clothes, can do that.
*
The new Lady Doncaster decided to place household concerns far down on her list of priorities. She contented herself with a quick tour of Doncaster House with the housekeeper. This was followed by a short—one might say terse—chat, during which she pointed out that she had no intention of retaining servants who were not up to the job. She expected a far higher standard of cleanliness and service than she had seen so far and gave a brief rehearsal of what she expected to see. An appointment was made for two weeks hence, at which time the situation would be evaluated. A shaken housekeeper tottered off to the kitchen to confer with her colleagues.
Then Elinor turned her attention to important matters—family matters.
Julia and Olivia were at the top of her list. Well, second on it. Harry led everything else, but at the moment he did not seem to require a great deal of her attention except, of course, at night. Just thinking about what happened at night made her stop whatever she was doing and sigh blissfully. Being married was so delicious that she could not imagine why anyone remained single. Other people weren’t married to Harry, so that probably made a difference.
During the day, she began making rapid progress with the girls after she went through their wardrobes and threw out practically all their garments.
“Mother said that since we are in mourning and no one will see us, it would be more sensible to simply dye our old dresses black,” Julia said.
“What utter nonsense. We don’t dress to impress other people.” Elinor paused to consider. “Well, sometimes we do. But for the most part the way we dress reflects the way we think of ourselves. A woman who goes around in worthless rags will begin to think she is worthless even if she didn’t think that way in the first place. And you, my pets, are not worthless.”
As she noted the girls’ surprised confusion, her mouth tightened. Their mother had apparently considered her daughters worthless and had not even tried to hide her opinion from them. Elinor picked up a chemise with at least a dozen patches, made a sound of disgust, and ripped it across.
The new Earl of Doncaster was spending his days in conference with lawyers and men of business. To his enormous relief, the estate was actually in healthy condition. The late earl had preferred brandy to business, but was not entirely a fool. He had left his affairs in the hands of a highly capable man of business. Nor had the earl’s wife been able to run up disastrous bills. She received her allowance promptly each quarter, and jewelers, milliners, and all others had soon discovered that neither the earl nor his man of business could be induced to pay a penny more to cover her bills.
No one was inclined to mention the rumors about how those bills were paid.
There was more relief when he learned that the Dowager Lady Doncaster was entitled to a perfectly respectable widow’s portion, including either a country house in Wiltshire or a house in London, as she chose. It was all settled, and he did not have to make any decisions about it.
In the will, Harry was named guardian of his sisters, with no role for their mother, and quite respectable dowries had been set aside for them. That rather bothered him, he told Norrie in the early hours of the morning when confidences are exchanged. “I suppose he didn’t know me well enough to realize that I would take care of them.”
“Nonsense,” Norrie said. “It was only sensible to make provision for them in his will. You might have died on your travels, and they would have been left to the tender mercies of whoever inherited the title. Who is next in line, by the way?”
He frowned. “I don’t know. There must be a cousin or two someplace.”
“You see? They would have been left to the care of a total stranger who might have felt no obligation to them at all. That provision is an indication of your father’s good heart, not his distrust.”
A resigned smile slowly spread across his face. “You’ll make a saint of my father yet.”
Eventually Harry had dealt with all the problems that could be dealt with in London. It was time to travel to Bradenham Abbey and deal with his mother.
“I think I should go down to the Abbey by myself first,” he said, standing in front of the mirror trying to tie a neat bow in his cravat. He still had not hired a valet. Norrie seemed to enjoy helping him out of his clothes.
She d
id not, however, seem to enjoy his remark.
“You think you should do what?”
“Go down first by myself. You know, make sure everything is put to rights before you see it for the first time. After all, it’s going to be our home. I don’t want you to have a poor first impression of the place.” He was still facing the mirror, but she was perfectly visible in it, and she was not looking happy. Angry was more like it. Furious might be an even better description.
“What absolute twaddle. As if you would have the least notion of how to put a house to rights. What is this all about?”
He gave up his struggle with the cravat and turned to face her. “My mother is there.”
“We knew that, didn’t we?”
“I don’t want her anywhere near you.”
“Oh, Harry, I know that’s what you want, but it’s not going to be completely possible. Sooner or later we will have to deal with her, and it might as well be sooner.”
“It’s not that.” He stood there frowning. “We don’t have to deal with her. I have to deal with her.”
“Well, I’m not going to let you face her by yourself, and that is final.”
The frown eased, and he shook his head at her in fond despair. “It’s just that…I can’t think of any good way to say this. She isn’t alone.”
“Surely she isn’t hosting a party?”
“Only a party of one. A gentleman at my club wanted to be sure I knew, since I had been out of the country so long. She is accompanied, as I am told she often is of late, by Lord Percival Winters.”
Norrie stared at him for a moment, and then sat down abruptly. “I am not certain I understand what you are saying.”
He raised his brows but said nothing.
“All right, I am not certain I want to understand what you are saying.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “It is barely two months since her husband died, and she is—at least ostensibly—in deepest mourning, accompanied by her lover? Is that what you are telling me?” He nodded. “Thank heaven your sisters were deposited with Aunt Georgina, at least.” He shrugged, and she relapsed into silence.
She was shocked. Wonderful. He—and his family—had managed to shock her. Never before had he seen her shocked. Angry, yes, and even frightened. She had been angry with Landi, with Girard, even angry at the way his sisters had been treated, but never shocked. This was what he had succeeded in doing for her. Instead of protecting her, he had exposed for her the vileness that was his mother.
He cleared his throat. “So you see, there is no need for you to come with me. I can see to it that she never crosses your path.”
She looked up, startled. “No need? Of course there is a need for me to come with you. To be honest, I am looking forward to seeing you throw Lord Winters out of your house. I know his wife, you see. After that, I am sure I can help you convince your mother that she will be happier if she departs immediately for whatever residence she chooses.”
It was Harry’s turn to sit down abruptly. “You’re serious.” Her shock had apparently been replaced by anger.
“Of course. We are married, aren’t we? That means that we face things together. If you confront her alone, you may be held back by some nonsensical notions of the duty owed to a mother. I will have no such qualms.” She began to pace back and forth, tapping a finger on her cheek. “The only question is whether your sisters should come with us.”
“My sisters!” Now she had shocked him. “They’re children.”
“Yes, they really shouldn’t witness this, though they would probably enjoy seeing you toss Lord Winters out on his ear. However, there could be an ugly scene, and we do not want them to witness that.” She frowned. “The problem is that they really shouldn’t be left alone.”
“They’ll be safe enough here, surely, with a house full of servants.”
“It’s not their safety that worries me. They still half expect us to go off and leave them.”
“They can’t seriously think…” He heaved a sigh. “Of course they can. A week isn’t enough to overturn a lifetime of experience. You’d best stay here with them. I can come and get you all when it’s safe.”
She shook her head dismissively. “Absolutely not. I know you want to protect them, but they also need to know that we are all part of a family, that they belong with us. No, I think what we will do is go down in two carriages. You and I can set out early in the morning and be there shortly after noon. The girls can set out later with Martha so that they arrive in the early evening. That should give you enough time to send Lord Winters on his way, and any eruptions from your mother should have subsided by then.” She looked up at him with a smile. “It was clever of you to have your estate so close to London. It makes it so much easier to get away for a while whenever we choose.”
Suddenly Harry was feeling cheerful again. “We have some other places farther afield,” he said. “Even one in Wales if we ever want to get away from everything.”
*
Despite the gloom of the day, chilly and damp even for England in June, Harry had been looking at the countryside with considerable interest earlier in the trip. The world looked rather different when one owned a large chunk of it and was responsible for those who lived on it. Buckinghamshire was pleasant to look at, with gently rolling hills covered with what appeared to be fertile fields. Norrie shared his interest, and they wondered whether those fields were really sufficient to support the prosperous towns they passed through.
As they neared Bradenham Abbey, the landscape continued to be attractive, but Harry’s spirits fell. “We must be getting close. I recognize the names of some of the places we’ve passed. But I don’t recognize the places themselves.” He shook his head. “All my life, this has been my home, at least nominally, and so little of it is familiar.”
Norrie, who had been holding his hand, gave it a sharp shake. “Well, it soon will be familiar, so stop feeling sorry for yourself. Just think of all the fun we will have exploring and discovering.”
He grinned. She never let him feel sorry for himself. Or rather, she always showed him that there was no reason to feel sorry for himself. “What, no words of sympathy, no pity for my benighted childhood?”
“Nary a one. Look! Is that it?”
They had just crested a hill and could see in the distance an enormous rambling building of gray stone. Actually, it looked more like a series of connected buildings, none of them very high, wandering across a valley.
“Yes, my dear. That is your new home. Bradenham Abbey.”
She seemed to be looking at it with delighted surprise. “It really is an abbey? I mean, most of the time when things get called an abbey, it only means that there once was an abbey, and they used the stones to build a new house.”
Harry smiled and realized that he was looking at it with a certain fondness. “It really is an abbey. After the monks were kicked out, the new owner was a frugal sort who just knocked down the church and adapted the rest. It’s been adapted a bit more since then, and it’s really quite comfortable inside as I recall.”
“Oh, Harry, I can’t wait to see it.” She was practically jumping up and down on the seat.
“Just remember what—or who—is waiting for us there.”
She lifted her chin. “Nothing and no one we can’t handle.”
*
The coach pulled up at the entrance to the Abbey, where a roofed staircase was guarded by Gothic arches. There was a pause before the door opened and a footman hurried down to help them. A second and a third followed to carry their luggage, and by the time Harry and Elinor had reached the door, an august personage was standing there to greet them.
“My lord, I must apologize for the inadequacy of your welcome. We had not expected you.”
“It was a sudden decision.” Harry, with Elinor on his arm, walked into the entrance hall, a rather gloomy, square room with doors leading in all directions. “My dear, may I present Bidewell, our butler.” While Elinor smiled a greeting, Harry continue
d, “Have my wife’s things and mine taken up to our rooms. I trust they are ready for us.”
“The earl’s room has been kept in readiness for you, of course, but…” Bidewell did not seem to know how to continue.
“But you did not know I had married.” Harry smiled. “Never mind. Just put Lady Doncaster’s things in there with mine. And my sisters will be arriving later today. Have their rooms ready too.”
Bidewell blinked.
Harry sighed. “My sisters do have rooms, do they not?”
“The nursery has always provided them with a certain degree of privacy, my lord.” The butler seemed to be choosing his words with care.
“Privacy. Good God.” Harry closed his eyes. “Prepare two of the guest rooms for them. We won’t be having any guests for a while, and they can choose different ones tomorrow if they like.”
By this time Elinor had passed her bonnet, gloves, and mantelet to a waiting footman, and Harry had also been divested of hat and gloves. “Is my mother about?” he asked casually.
“I believe she is in the blue drawing room.” Bidewell hesitated, as if about to say more, but closed his mouth and stepped back.
“We will join her,” Harry said. “Have some tea brought to us there.”
*
A footman flung the door open and they entered the blue drawing room together. Elinor had her hand on his arm and his hand was protectively over hers. The couple on the settee sat up abruptly, the woman turning angrily to face the intruders. The man beside her jumped to his feet. Elinor felt a momentary confusion. She had expected to be encountering Harry’s mother, but this woman, although of a suitable age, was dressed in a gown of orange and red plaid.
“Hello, Mother,” said Harry.
Oh goodness, thought Elinor. This is his mother. She felt glad that she was wearing one of Mr. Worth’s creations, a fine black wool trimmed with black velvet at the bodice and on the bell sleeves. She had chosen it because it would not get too wrinkled on the journey, and it gave her spirits a boost to know that she was now the one dressed properly.
Lady Elinor's Wicked Adventures Page 25
