The sound of hooves and carriage wheels caused both women to look up, and Marianne slipped a ribbon between the pages and closed her book regretfully.
“You can finish it later,” Ellen said with a smile, obviously seeing her regret.
“I’m enjoying it very much, I must admit. Turning down two suitors! Elizabeth Bennet was lucky indeed to have a supportive father who did not make her marry Mr. Collins, but I do hope her mother does not find out she turned Mr. Darcy down as well.”
Ellen laughed. “I will not spoil the plot for you, but I’m very glad you are enjoying it. I thought you would appreciate a story where the heroine gets the opportunity to say no - and to tell her unsuitable suitors precisely what she thinks of them!”
“Indeed, I do.” Marianne sighed happily. “I shall be honest - the greatest pleasure I am deriving from it is the certain knowledge that Creighton would have flown into a rage at the mere suggestion I should be permitted to read it.”
Ellen snickered. Over the last few days, they had become close enough that Marianne felt safe confiding in Ellen how much she had hated her husband, despised and feared him. There were some things about her marriage she doubted she would ever be able to talk about, but in a way, telling Ellen what she could had been cathartic. As they walked down the stairs to the front hall Marianne thought again how glad she was that Ellen had sat down beside her in the wallflowers’ corner where Marianne had been hiding from her husband at the ball where they’d first met.
Allsopp was opening the doors, with two footmen at the ready to hurry down the steps and assist the guests from the carriage drawing to a stop. Four handsome bay horses drew a carriage of superior quality, obviously very new, but with no family crest upon the doors. New money, Marianne assessed. Not that she cared. Creighton’s money was very old, and she despised every adult male member of that bloodline.
“The Alleynes,” Ellen murmured as a footman opened the carriage door and a handsome woman in late middle age, wearing a serviceable gown under a heavy woollen cloak, stepped down with a welcoming smile.
“I don’t think I know them.” Marianne watched as a gentleman with a balding pate and a kindly face stepped down next.
“Sir Tobias and Lady Alleyne - Isabelle. Their daughter Leonora made her debut this autumn. She’s a confirmed wallflower, but has the most beautiful singing voice; I will be begging her to entertain us in the evenings.”
Leonora was obviously the young lady stepping down with a shy smile and a word of thanks for the footman assisting her. With mouse-brown hair, a round pink face, and a figure a little too plump for fashion, Marianne could see why the girl was a wallflower. She would be no competition for the beauties of the Ton.
“She looks sweet. I shall be glad to know her and her parents.”
Ellen shot her a grateful look as the family ascended the steps to join them. They had been joined by a young man of about twenty years of age. Tall and thin, he had the same mouse-brown hair as Leonora.
“Welcome to Havers Hall,” Ellen said.
“Lady Havers,” Lady Alleyne said. “It is so good to see you again. Havers Hall is even more beautiful than I imagined. Please allow me to present our son, Joseph.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Alleyne.” Ellen offered her hand and Joseph bowed quite correctly over it. Marianne was very proud of Ellen then as her friend remembered the proper way to introduce persons of a lower rank to her; she turned to Marianne and said, “Lady Creighton, please allow me to introduce my friends Sir Tobias and Lady Alleyne, and their children Mr. and Miss Alleyne. Marianne, Lady Creighton,” she turned back to the Alleynes, who bowed and curtseyed.
“It is a pleasure to meet any friend of Ellen’s,” Marianne said with a warm smile, offering her hand to Lady Alleyne, who looked a little overawed as she touched Marianne’s fingers lightly. “I am delighted to make your acquaintances.”
“Oh, we are most honoured to make your acquaintance, Lady Creighton!” Lady Alleyne gushed, her eyes taking in every detail of Marianne’s appearance. “Leonora, do make your bows, girl. And Joseph!” She looked to her son, who was staring at Marianne as though he had suddenly glimpsed Paradise. “Oh... I believe I have forgot something in the carriage. Joseph!” Succeeding in obtaining his attention, she sent him back for a handkerchief, even though Marianne could clearly see one peeking from her sleeve, and carried on talking without missing a beat, commenting on everything from the state of the roads to the charms of the rustic inn where they had stayed the night before.
Introductions made and Lady Alleyne finally running out of steam on her commentary, Ellen ushered the Alleynes inside and directed waiting maids to escort her newly arrived guests to the suites she had allotted them.
“We should be delighted if you would join us for a light nuncheon at one o’clock?” Ellen invited, and Lady Alleyne accepted for the family, declaring they would wash up and be down directly.
“They seem nice,” Marianne remarked as she and Ellen returned to the parlour.
“They are; I requested an introduction to Leonora after I heard her sing and was delighted with her. She looks a mousy little thing, but is very witty and clever. Sir Tobias invented a new type of ammunition during the war, for which he received his knighthood, and has invented any number of other clever things. I am always utterly fascinated by his conversation, when you can get him to talk.”
Which might be a little bit trying when Lady Alleyne is present, Marianne surmised. The woman seemed rather on the chatty side, though nice enough.
They were just reaching for their books when the sound of another carriage’s wheels had Ellen rising to her feet again.
“You need not come down, if you wish,” she said. “I would not drag you up and down stairs all day, every time another guest arrives!”
“I will accompany you until Thomas gets back from his visit with the tenant,” Marianne compromised. “After that, he can climb all those stairs with you!”
Ellen laughed. “I am always glad of your company,” she said warmly, and they set off again.
THE CHANGE IN SOUND disturbed Alex, and he looked up from his book. The carriage wheels were crunching on gravel now, rather than the packed dirt of the road. The horses slowed, which told him they were likely arriving at Havers Hall.
Setting the book down on the seat, he peered out of the window, admiring the handsome larch trees lining the broad avenue leading up to a beautiful house built of golden Cotswold stone. Even on a dull, grey December day, the house had a warm and welcoming look.
“A pretty prospect,” Alex murmured to himself, startling his valet awake from his snooze.
“Beg your pardon, m’lord?”
“I believe we are arrived, Simons.”
“So soon? Why, we left Worcester just a little while ago!”
Alex hid a smile. Simons was in his late sixties and definitely nearing retirement. He was also fanatically loyal to Alex and extremely protective of his master’s privacy, which was why Alex would never dream of going anywhere without him.
“It is nearing noon, Simons,” Alex said when he had recovered his countenance. “We have made good time, though. The roads in this part of the country are certainly better maintained than those in the far north.”
“Indeed.” Simons peered out of the other window. “Very handsome grounds,” he approved. “I count no less than four gardeners attending to that shrubbery yonder - in the depth of winter, too! Let us hope the house is equally well-cared for.”
“And the stables.” Alex turned his head to check on his horse, following behind the carriage, its lead line held by one of his grooms aside another horse. “Else Julius will likely wreak havoc.”
“Don’t know why you keep that animal,” Simons grumbled. “Troublesome beast.”
“He saved my life too many times to count on the Continent. I’ll not abandon him now.”
Simons humphed as the carriage finally drew to a halt. Two footmen immediately approached the door and ope
ned it, placing a step for them to disembark. “Attentive, at least,” Simons mumbled from his corner. “Go ahead, m’lord. I’ll see to your things.”
“Don’t be lifting anything yourself,” Alex said, receiving a narrow-eyed glare in return. Turning away to cover another smile, he stepped down from the carriage with a nod of thanks to the footmen and started up the steps to the Hall. Three steps up, he raised his gaze to the two women standing at the door and promptly stubbed his toe on the next step.
His only consolation, as he bit back a yelp of pain, was that Marianne looked far more shocked to see him than he was surprised to see her standing arm-in-arm with Ellen Havers. He had, after all, known she was going to be there, and from her expression she had not put together the Marquis of Glenkellie with Alexander Rotherhithe. When he had known her, he was only a very distant relation, never expected to ascend to the title.
“My lord.” The Countess of Havers curtseyed gracefully as he arrived at the top of the steps, and Marianne perforce followed suit, though she had blanched pale.
“Lady Havers.” Alex bowed deep in return. “Lady Creighton.”
“Oh, you are acquainted with Marianne? How silly of me; of course you are! With you not in London this year, I forgot you lived there for several years and know everyone.” Ellen turned to Marianne with a friendly smile, placing her hand on Marianne’s arm.
“It has been many years since Lady Creighton and I last met,” Alex said after a full minute of awkward silence. “Indeed, she was then merely Miss Abingdon, daughter of a viscount, and I... nobody of consequence at all.”
He had not thought it possible Marianne could turn any paler, but her skin took on the hue of ash, and she swayed a little. Kind, thoughtful Ellen noticed at once, of course, and urged her friend inside, back into the warmth.
Alex found himself delegated to the care of a very proper butler, who promptly escorted him to a handsome guest suite on the second floor with sweeping views across a valley to the west of the house, a winding river at the bottom, and thick woods on the hill beyond.
It was quite lovely, and he was still standing at the window admiring the vista when Simons arrived with four sturdy footmen carrying Alex’s trunks. Simons looked quite in his element as he directed the men, and a moment later extended his sway to two more who arrived bearing jugs of hot water for Alex to wash.
“A nuncheon will be served at noon, my lord,” one of the footmen advised, “and Lord Havers is expected back in time for it.”
“Indeed,” Alex murmured, “I believe I see him now.” A horse had entered the picturesque view outside, cantering along the river to a crossing point. The rider was still a little too far away to make out his identity, but his coat and hat were clearly those of a gentleman. Perhaps a half-mile distant, the horse and rider would reach the house in no time at all, and therefore Alex should also waste little time in changing his clothes and washing off the dust of travel.
He wondered if Marianne would attend the nuncheon, or if she would cry off after obviously having been surprised by his arrival. Perhaps she would plead illness.
His jaw tightened as he turned away from the prospect beyond the window. She could not avoid him indefinitely, not at a house party expected to last a full fortnight.
Sooner rather than later, they would have the conversation which had been postponed for too many years - and he would have his answer as to why she had lied to his face and broken his youthful heart.
Chapter Eight
Claiming a sudden sick headache, Marianne retreated immediately to her rooms, grateful for Ellen’s kindly disposition. She was quite certain Ellen suspected her illness coming upon her at the same time as the Marquis of Glenkellie’s arrival was no coincidence, but Marianne was in no way ready to explain her prior connection with Alexander Rotherhithe.
Lying down, she allowed Jean to place a damp cloth over her brow and then pleaded to be left alone. She needed to think.
Jean retreated only as far as her dressing room, leaving the door cracked open so she would hear if Marianne called for her, but that was far enough. In silence and blissful solitude, Marianne tried to come up with a method by which she might somehow avoid being in a room with Alexander Rotherhithe for the next two weeks.
A headache was coming on in earnest as she tried to find a way out of her dilemma. If only she still had access to the Creighton fortune! But even if she wrote a letter to Arthur, she doubted he would send for her. And she could not possibly ask Ellen and Thomas to convey her back to Cumbria.
She had friends who would take her in - at least she hoped she did - but getting to them without funds was another matter. Running away was not an option open to her, even if her pride would permit it. Ellen would be convinced something dreadful had happened to her, besides, and that was no way for Marianne to repay Ellen’s kindness.
Somehow, she was going to have to face Alexander and live with his contempt. She’d seen the disgust in his eyes as he looked at her. So far as he knew, she’d broken their secret engagement a mere three weeks after he sailed for Spain to marry another man: a much older, much wealthier, titled man.
It was a cruel twist of fate that Alexander was now both wealthier and better titled than her husband had ever been. If only her father had known! He might have let her ‘throw herself away on a mere Mister’ after all.
If the last eight years had taught her anything, it was that there was no use crying over spilt milk. Lying still and silent, Marianne reconciled herself to facing Alexander and being civil to him. She was no longer the naive girl he had cared for; she was a grown woman, married and widowed. She would not be intimidated by contemptuous stares, even though Alexander Rotherhithe had grown up into a very impressive man indeed.
Tall and slender as a young man, maturity and his years as a soldier had added muscle and breadth to that long frame. And the scar on his cheek only added to his dark, wickedly handsome looks as far as she was concerned.
Unconsciously, Marianne lifted her hand to her own cheek, wondering how exactly Alex had received the scar. Though it had faded to pink now, it must have been a terrible wound when he’d first received it, flaying his cheek open to the bone and barely missing his eye. It was hardly something she could ask him, especially as she planned to avoid being in his company as much as she could possibly manage!
The sound of carriage wheels outside again brought a smile to her face. With more than twenty guests to stay at the Hall and more coming from the local area each day for activities and dinners, surely there would be enough people around that she need never find herself alone with Alexander. She could hide behind a shield of politeness and sociability, much as she had hidden her feelings behind a polished social facade when Creighton paraded her around London as his trophy bride.
She could do this.
What choice did she have, after all?
THE EARL OF HAVERS grinned as Alex entered the drawing room. “Glenkellie. Glad you decided to come.”
“So am I,” Alex said honestly, shaking Thomas’ offered hand. “Havers Hall is beautiful; my compliments on your home. My valet is in heaven with such facilities at his disposal.”
“You can thank my predecessor for most of the Hall’s amenities,” Thomas admitted. “He liked his luxuries.”
“It’s not your predecessor who employs a veritable army of staff though, is it?” Alex raised his brows. As the owner of a large estate of his own, he knew the Hall was definitely overstaffed.
“I wanted to talk to you about that, actually. I’m thinking of starting a proper training academy, staffed by experienced mentors who are getting a little long in the tooth for heavy work but have a wealth of knowledge to pass on.”
“For house servants?”
“For all kinds of skilled tradespersons. The current system of one apprentice per tradesman - and that’s if they’re willing to take one on - doesn’t increase the supply of skilled workers, does it?”
“I suppose not,” Alex conceded. “Whe
re do I come in?”
“I’m looking for investors, of course.” Thomas grinned irrepressibly.
“Naturally. Well, if you have a proposal, I’ll take a look at it.” Alex had no problem with the idea of going into business with Thomas; there were few people he could say that about, but the American earl had proved himself both financially astute and compassionate towards those of lesser consequence to himself.
“Do not start talking business now, Thomas.” Ellen came up beside them, resting a hand on her husband’s arm.
He placed his own hand over her fingers and gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, my love.”
“You must let me introduce Lord Glenkellie to our other guests,” she reproved gently. “Or are you already acquainted with the Alleynes, my lord?”
“I am not, but I should be honoured to meet any friends of yours, Lady Havers,” Alex said gallantly. “I already know Lady Creighton, of course. Where is she, by the way?”
Ellen’s glance was sharp. “Resting,” she said a little curtly. “She was feeling unwell. Should she be recovered enough, she may rejoin us at dinner.”
“I didn’t know you were acquainted with Lady Creighton, Glenkellie,” Thomas said, his expression surprised.
“It was a long time ago,” Alex demurred. “I daresay I don’t know the person she is now at all.”
Had he ever known her? He had to wonder, even as one part of his mind remained focused on remaining polite as Ellen introduced him to the Alleyne family. Miss Alleyne looked quite overawed and said not a word, which at least meant she was unlikely to pursue him, though her mother positively fawned over him. He was used to that and tuned it out by thinking of Marianne, of the look on her face as she’d recognised him. He’d changed from the young boy she’d known when they were children playing together before he was sent away to school, even from the stripling lad she’d led on that fatal summer. He was grown up now, hardened by war and life.
Unwrapping a Rogue: A Christmas Regency Boxset Page 23
