The Arrangement

by Joan Wolf

  Last week Sam Watson had asked me to marry him. I had put him off, not saying yes but not exactly saying no either. In fact, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do about Sam Watson.

  I liked Sam. Equally as important, Nicky liked Sam. And I had begun to think of late that Nicky would benefit from having a father.

  So said part of me.

  The other part of me remembered a pair of golden eyes and a kiss that had scalded me to the innermost part of my being.

  I shook my head as if to clear it, and the lilac trees blurred before my eyes. When I could once more see them clearly again, I made some decisions:

  I would write the letter to Savile asking him to keep Maria.

  I would consult my solicitor in Highgate to see if he had any advice for me about securing a new establishment.

  Sam was away from Edgerton at the moment, but he had told me he would return sometime next week. If my solicitor told me that he would be unable to find me a new establishment within the allotted period of time, I would tell Sam that I would marry him.

  Let fate decide, I thought recklessly, and went off to write the letter to Savile.

  * * * *

  Four days after I had received notice that my lease was being terminated, the Earl of Savile drove his phaeton into my stable yard. My traitorous heart leaped when I saw him give the reins to Grove and jump down to greet Nicky, who had come racing from his vegetable garden when he saw who it was.

  I watched from my bedroom window as Savile ruffled Nicky’s hair and gave him a light punch upon his arm, and I saw my son’s face light up like a candle. Then Savile rested a friendly hand upon Nicky’s shoulder and the two of them began to walk toward the house, the boy craning his neck to look up into the face of the tall man beside him.

  Two minutes later, Mrs. Macintosh was knocking excitedly at my door.

  “Lassie, lassie, ye’ll niver guess who is here!”

  I opened my door. Her apple-round face was glowing as brightly at Nicky’s. “ ‘Tis none other than his lordship himself!”

  Part of me was so eager to see him that I wanted to race down the stairs, and part of me didn’t want to leave the safety of my bedroom. “Did he say why he is here, Mrs. Macintosh?” I asked.

  “Not to me. But he wants to see you, lassie. Did you not write to him? Perhaps he knows a place that we can lease!”

  “Perhaps he does,” I replied slowly.

  “Comb your hair, lassie, before you go down,” the little Scotswoman ordered. Obediently, I went to my dressing table, picked up my old bone comb, and ran it through my hair. Mrs. Macintosh followed me and with her fingers she softly brushed the hair away from my ears.

  “That’s better. Come along with ye now, and don’t keep his lordship waiting.”

  She had put him in the drawing room. She beamed at me as I walked slowly from the stairs toward the door. There was no doubt that she regarded Savile as our savior. I didn’t know what to think. All I knew was that I was much too glad that he had come, and that my gladness had nothing at all to do with my lease.

  The door was slightly ajar, and with sudden resolution I pushed it all the way open. He was there, standing alone in front of the window, his back to the room. He turned as I came in, and even from across the room I could see the gold of his eyes. I wondered how I could ever have thought they were brown. His slightly disordered hair and his unfashionably tanned skin also glowed warmly golden in the sun that streamed in through the window.

  I stepped into the room but remained close to the safety of the door. “Why are you here?” I asked in a voice that was slightly deeper than my normal tone.

  “I’m here because you’ve lost your lease, of course,” he replied. He moved away from the window and crossed the tattered carpet in my direction. “I’ve come to bring you and Nicky back to Savile Castle with me. All the horses can go to Rayleigh until we find you another place to live.”

  I stared at him in absolute shock. I had not expected this.

  He stopped in front of me and looked down.

  “I’ve told my cousin John to start making inquiries. He’ll find you something, Gail. You don’t have to worry about that. In the meantime, however, you need a place to live.”

  “I don’t have to be out of Deepcote for almost another month,” I said, “and I have clients scheduled during that time.”

  “Cancel the clients,” he commanded. “Tell them that you will reschedule them when you have found a new establishment.”

  His lordliness was beginning to get my back up. I encouraged the feeling. It was much easier for me to deal with him when I was angry. “And why should I do that?”

  “Because it will be much better for you and Nicky to come to Savile. My sister is staying with me for the summer, and her three children—two of whom are boys Nicky’s age—are staying with me as well. It will be a wonderful opportunity for Nicky to have some normal companionship, Gail.”

  I bristled at the ‘normal.’ “I’ll have you know that Nicky knows several boys his own age, my lord.”

  I folded my arms across my chest defensively. “The sons of some of our local farmers.”

  The aristocratic eyebrows rose. “I meant boys of his own class.”

  “Nicky and I are not of the nobility, my lord.”

  “Neither are my nephews. They are the sons of a gentleman, as Nicky is.”

  I clasped my elbows with my hands and shook my head. “Lady Regina was present at the reading of George’s will, and I simply can’t take a chance that one of her sons will tell Nicky what was in it.”

  “Good God, Gail,” Savile said. “Ginny has said nothing to her children on the subject of George’s will.”

  “How can you be sure of that?” I demanded.

  “First of all, parents do not confide that sort of thing to their underage children, and second of all, I asked her.”

  I scowled.

  “Charlie and Theo will be delighted to have a friend to stay for the summer. They’ll take Nicky swimming and fishing, they’ll play knights and pirates and ride their ponies all over the estate and play ball and fly kites…you know, all the things that boys do during their summer vacation.”

  I had to admit that it sounded like a heaven-sent opportunity for Nicky, who had never had much chance to do any of those things.

  I wasn’t so sure about how heaven-sent staying in the same house with Savile was going to be for me, however. He stirred something in me that no other man had ever touched.

  “Are you certain that Lady Regina will not object to my presence?” I procrastinated.

  “Savile Castle belongs to me, not to my sister,” Savile said a trifle grimly.

  “Yes, but if she is acting as your hostess…”

  “Ginny is staying with me for the summer because her husband has gone to a scientific conference in Heidelberg and she is expecting another child and did not feel up to accompanying him. She will be very happy to have you to augment my own boring company, I assure you.”

  “And you think that Mr. Melville will be able to find me another establishment?”

  “I do not promise that he will find something within a month, but by the end of the summer he should certainly have located something for you. You will have to discuss with him what it is that you are willing to pay.”

  I drew a deep breath. His logic was perfect, I thought. I would be a fool to turn down such an opportunity.

  “Well then,” I said, “I do not see how I can refuse your offer, my lord.” I gave him a slightly unsteady smile. “You must know that I have been worried to death. Your generosity has lifted a burden from my shoulders.”

  “I am glad to hear that,” he said, his face inscrutable.

  I thought of Sam, who was to return to Edgerton the following day, and then I looked once more at Savile.

  Two more days and I would probably have opted to marry Sam.

  I looked once more at the golden-haired earl standing before me.

  Fate, I thought, had d
ecided.

  * * * *

  Savile decided to leave Mr. and Mrs. Macintosh at Deepcote until the final month of my occupancy was up. If I didn’t have a new place by then, Savile said he would send them to his hunting box in Leicestershire, where they could live until our future was resolved.

  “If I bring you to Savile Castle and allow you and your superior cooking into my kitchen, my own cook is certain to resign,” the earl told Mr. Macintosh humorously. “And, since I fear that nothing I can offer will ever lure you away from Mrs. Saunders, that will leave me in quite a quandary.”

  “Ye’re right, my lord. Nothing will iver induce me to leave my lassie and the wee Nicholas. We will be happy to do whativer ye suggest,” the flattered Mr. Macintosh replied.

  Several hours after Savile’s arrival, Grove pulled into my stable yard with the earl’s chaise and a handful of postillions who were going to transport my horses to Rayleigh.

  One of the postillions was a small, thin youngster whose task was to ride Squirt to Savile Castle so that Nicky would have his own pony for the summer.

  The chaise was for our baggage, and for Nicky and me if the weather should turn ugly.

  Savile had thought of everything.

  I had to admit, it was pleasant to have all my arrangements made so easily. All Nicky and I had to do was pack.

  Before I went to bed that night, I made my usual trip down to the stable to check on the horses. Savile offered to come with me, but I shook my head.

  “I’ve lived here for eight years,” I said to him. “I need to be alone to make my goodbyes.”

  The summer sky was still not completely dark as I left the house. I stopped for a moment in the middle of the stable yard to gaze around me at the familiar scene. I had come here with such happiness, a young wife and mother, and then had come the terrible grief of my husband’s death. Deepcote was inextricably linked with my greatest joy and with my deepest sorrow. Deepcote would always mean Tommy to me.

  I leaned against the paddock fence, and Fancy and Polly, turned out of their stalls once more by the need to stable Savile’s animals, came over to nuzzle my hands, looking for treats.

  Tommy’s voice sounded in my ears: “I think I’ve found the perfect place for us, Gail. It’s got a good-size stable and two well-fenced paddocks and the house ain’t that bad. Well—at least the roof don’t leak!”

  I remembered standing at the door of the drawing room, holding Nicky in my arms. “My God, Tommy,” I had said, “this is absolutely dreadful.”

  We had looked at each other, and then we had begun to laugh. I laughed so hard that tears came to my eyes. What had decrepit furniture and tattered rugs meant to us in those days?

  I patted Polly’s neck and thought about the young couple who had come to Deepcote eight years before.

  Tommy was dead, killed instantly by the kick of a horse as he had bent over to pry a stone out of a rear hoof. The iron horseshoe had caught him squarely in his left temple.

  Tonight, as I stood alone in the middle of the place where we had once been so happy, I realized that the girl I had been when I married Tommy was buried here along with him. I was a woman now, a woman who had learned to rely on her own capabilities and strengths because she had a child depending upon her and no one else to turn to.

  I placed my hands on top of the fence, rested my cheek on them and listened to the softly breathing night.

  “Goodbye, Tommy,” I whispered. “Wish me luck.”

  No answer came whispering out of the dark, but my ears didn’t need to hear what my heart already knew. Tommy had always wanted me to be happy.

  Chapter Twelve

  Red and white hawthorns were out all along the roadside and the scent of the coming summer was in the air on the day that we left Deepcote. Savile and Nicky and I rode on the front seat of the phaeton, a seat that was really meant to accommodate only two. Neither Nicky nor I was very big, however, and the earl assured us that there was plenty of room for him. The chaise, driven by Grove and carrying our meager baggage, followed along behind us.

  I started out by asking Savile about his nephews, because I knew that was the subject in which Nicky would be most interested.

  “Charlie is the oldest, he’s ten,” Savile said obligingly. “He’s very smart—he’s like his father in that—and he’s also very imaginative. He makes up his own games and has been known to spend entire days living in make-believe worlds of his own creation.”

  “What kind of worlds, sir?” Nicky asked.

  With his long whip, Savile competently flicked a fly off the back of one of his horses. The horse’s gleaming coppery hide never even twitched. Savile said, “He once spent an entire week being a castaway who befriended a monkey on a jungle island.”

  Nicky laughed delightedly.

  “And Theodore?” he prompted.

  We had been driving under the shade of a short avenue of beeches, and as we came back out into the sunlight Savile’s eyes crinkled a little at the corners to adjust to the brightness. For the first time I noticed that his lashes were several shades darker than his hair.

  He said to Nicky, “Theo has always been horse-mad, but lately he has also grown very fond of fishing. The way he has been going these last weeks, I am beginning to wonder if we are going to have any fish left in the lake.”

  “Your nephews sound like they are great fun, sir,” Nicky said wistfully. “Do you think that they will like me?”

  “I am very sure they will,” Savile replied, giving my son a reassuring smile.

  Savile’s being nice was very difficult for me to handle and I tried to get a grip on my fluttering stomach.

  “I am surprised you do not have a houseparty at Savile for the summer, my lord,” I said with an attempt at lightness. “Isn’t it customary for the ton to entertain one another at their country homes during the warmer months?”

  “Well, actually I do have something of a house party at Savile, Mrs. Saunders,” came the surprising, and unwelcome, reply.

  I whipped my head around and said accusingly, “You said nothing to me about any house party! You said your sister was the only person staying with you!”

  “I said that my sister was staying with me,” he corrected. “I did not say she was the only person.”

  Perhaps he had not, but he had certainly led me to think so. “Who else is there?” I asked suspiciously.

  “Well, there is my cousin Roger Melville, whom you met the last time you stayed with me.” He paused briefly and shot me a quick look. “Then there is also Lady Devane and her three daughters, and her father, Mr. Cole.”

  If I had not been sitting in a phaeton I would have leaped to my feet.

  “What! Are you mad, Savile? I never would have come with you if I had known those people were staying in your house.”

  Nicky said nervously, “What is wrong, Mama? Why don’t you like the people his lordship has staying with him?”

  I hid my hands in the folds of my skirt so that Nicky would not see my fists opening and closing. The look I gave Savile was scorching. He had done this on purpose, waiting until Nicky was present before he told me about the rest of the house party.

  “I don’t have the proper clothing for a house party,” I said to Nicky tersely.

  He knew it was more than that, but he said, “Oh,” and fell silent.

  “I shall be happy to advance you some of the money you will make on Maria’s foal if you wish to purchase some clothing,” Savile said.

  I wanted to hit him so much that my hands were trembling. “No, thank you, my lord,” I said emphatically.

  The faintest trace of a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. He said, “Don’t you want to know why I have invited such an unattractive group of people to stay with me for the summer?” His eyes left the road and shot me another quick look. “And I don’t mean you, Gail.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  He continued smoothly, “One month after George’s death, in what has to be a stroke of su
preme irony, Harriet found that she was in the family way.”

  That got my immediate attention. “No!”

  “Yes. And of course, if the child is a boy, he, rather than Roger, will be the new Lord Devane.”

  “Good heavens,” I said, completely diverted.

  “Precisely. Mr. Middleman and I discussed this potentially explosive situation, and we both decided that it would be best if neither Roger nor Harriet was officially put in possession of Devane Hall until the succession was quite clear. That is how I earned the joy of housing both Roger and Harriet until Harriet’s child is born.”

  Silence fell as I contemplated this astonishing news. The roadway slipped by beneath the phaeton’s wheels and the chestnuts maintained their steady, perfectly matching trot. Finally Nicky said tentatively, “Did you say there would be other children there besides Charlie and Theodore, sir?”

  “Yes. There is my niece, of course, the boys’ younger sister, Caroline, who is three. And then there are my cousin’s children—Maria, Frances, and Jane.”

  “Oh,” said Nicky. I could see that he was finding the prospect of so many strange children a bit frightening.

  “I expect the girls will be spending most of their time with their governesses,” I said brightly.

  “That is so,” Savile said.

  Nicky, who had had very little experience of small girls, looked relieved.

  “You will all sleep and eat together in the nursery, of course, but Mr. Wilson is in charge of the boys, and he’s a very good-natured young man. His father is a friend of my brother-in-law’s, and when my sister was looking for someone to take the boys in charge for the summer, Gervase thought of George Wilson. He’s studying law at the Inns of Court and was looking for employment for the summer.” Savile gave Nicky an encouraging smile. “I’m sure you’ll like Mr. Wilson, Nicky. He is young enough to remember what boys your age like to do.”

  At the words “sleep and eat together in the nursery” I felt Nicky press closer to me on the seat. His thin body was very tense. “Oh,” he said, attempting to sound casual, “then I won’t be staying with Mama?”