Lavender stared up at the high ceilings, then she looked around the vast white-and-gilt entryway that would swallow most houses. She was reminded that just a short time ago she had often scrubbed her aunt's house on her hands and knees. Now, she was supposed to be mistress of this mansion. That thought was very unsettling to her.
Mrs. Forsythe led Lavender toward the grand staircase. "The dowager is most anxious to meet you, Your Grace."
Lavender could only imagine what the dowager must think of her grandson's American wife. Her hand trembled on the mahogany banister. "You may inform Her Grace that I will join her after I have freshened up."
"Very good, Your Grace."
Lavender moved down the corridor and watched the housekeeper throw open the double doors and stand aside for her to enter. Lavender could not smother the gasp that escaped her lips when she stepped into the room. One whole wall was windows, giving a bright cheery look to the cream-and-blue walls. Her feet sank into a powder-blue rug, and she was awed by the size and majesty of the bedchamber.
"This is your room, Your Grace. I will have your trunks brought to the dressing room, which is through that door." She indicated a door to the right of the room. She then nodded to the double doors to the left. "Through there would be His Grace's rooms."
"Thank you," Lavender said, feeling overwhelmed by the magnificence of her surroundings. The bed was the largest she had ever seen, and was covered with light blue velvet. The bed hangings appeared to be very old, delicate lace.
Mrs. Forsythe decided, in spite of the fact that Lavender was the new duchess, she would take her in hand because she looked ready to collapse. "Do you have a ladies' maid, Your Grace?"
"No. I brought no maid with me."
"I am sure you will find a suitable woman to fill that position for you." With a firm hand she led Lavender toward the bed and began unhooking her gown. "In the meantime, I am going to make you comfortable so you can rest for an hour while I unpack your trunks and prepare your bath. Afterward you will feel better able to visit with the dowager duchess."
Lavender allowed the elder woman to remove her gown and loosen her stays. Then the housekeeper waited for Lavender to climb into bed so she could pull a light cover over her. Silently moving to the window, the housekeeper drew the curtains together. On her way to the dressing room, she noticed the poor little duchess had already fallen asleep.
Lavender stood beside Mrs. Forsythe while the housekeeper rapped on the heavy double doors. She heard a soft voice call out for her to enter. She glanced quickly down at her yellow gown, fearing it was not suitable to wear when meeting Julian's grandmother for the first time.
Her legs felt wooden as she followed Mrs. Forsythe into the sun-drenched green room, her steps echoing against the marble floor. Lavender was not prepared for the tiny woman who was bent over her tapestry frame, with eyeglasses resting across the bridge of her nose. The soft brown eyes missed nothing of Lavender's appearance as she walked toward her.
"You may go, Forsythe," the dowager commanded, her eyes never wavering from Lavender's. "We shall make our own introductions."
The dowager was dressed in sober black. Her only jewelry was a triple strand of pearls that was looped about her neck and a huge pearl ring that she wore on her right hand. Her face was delicate and surprisingly unlined. White hair was piled atop her head and held in place with ivory combs. Her dark eyes were seeking and piercing and remarkably like Julian's.
Removing her eyeglasses, she indicated that Lavender should be seated across from her. As yet, no words had passed between the two of them, but when the door closed behind the housekeeper, the dowager moved her embroidery frame aside to give Lavender her full attention.
"So, you are Julian's American wife. I did not know what to expect, but I did not expect such as you."
Lavender sat on the edge of her seat, her hands folded demurely in her lap. "You are not what I expected, either, Your Grace."
The dowager arched her white eyebrow, looking very like her grandson at the moment. "What did you expect?'
"Well," Lavender said, trying to still her trembling hands by clasping them tighter together. "I thought you would be taller. You look so young ... I mean . . . you are very lovely." Why was she stammering? she asked herself with trepidation. She must sound like a complete fool to this well-bred woman.
The slightest smile touched the dowager's lips. "May I return the compliment? You are quite lovely, and much younger than I expected. I thought you would be one of those horrible Americans who use their money to attract a title."
"I haven't any money, Your Grace, and as for a title, I never wanted to be a duchess."
The dowager's eyes moved across Lavender's gown. "I can see that you have no money. Are you saying that yours and Julian's marriage was a love match?"
Lavender, not knowing what Julian wanted to tell his grandmother about their marriage, stammered again. "I.. . care very deeply for your grandson, Your Grace."
The little woman's eyes shrewdly saw more than Lavender was saying. "Tell me about yourself, my dear."
Again Lavender was not prepared to reveal too much about herself. "There is nothing to tell. I was born in Virginia, where I lived until Julian brought me to England. I have an aunt Amelia, and a twin brother, Chandler, who is an officer in the American Army."
The dowager stared at Lavender so hard it made her squirm uncomfortably. "You are her, aren't you?"
"I. .. do not know who you mean."
"You are the one they call the Swallow."
Lavender's face lost its color, and she clasped the arms of her chair. "What makes you say that?" In her mind she was becoming angry with Julian for leaving her to face his grandmother alone. How dare he desert her when she needed him most. Anger and indignation were the foremost thoughts in her mind.
"This morning when the runner came from the ship to inform the household that my grandson was bringing home a new bride, I knew in my heart he had married the Swallow. You see, Julian has written me several letters, which I was able to read between the lines. I could tell he was becoming obsessed with this person who called herself the Swallow. What I don't know, is why he thought he had to marry you."
Lavender rose to her feet, anger now the ruling emotion. "If you must know, Your Grace, I did not want to marry your grandson, but, you see, I had no choice. It was either marry him, or face the hangman. Obviously he was the lesser of two evils."
If Lavender had intended to shock Julian's grandmother, she had failed miserably. The tiny little woman's musical laughter rang out, while her eyes danced with humor. "Surely you have a name other than the Swallow. What are you called, child?"
"Lavender . .. Daymond, er, Westfield now."
The dowager's eyes twinkled with disbelief. "Surely you jest. I recognize that name as the landlady's niece in Julian's letters." The truth of what had happened to her grandson became clear to the dowager duchess, and she chuckled with delight. "All the time my grandson was searching for you, you were in the same house with him. If I know Julian, and I do, that put his nose out of joint."
"To say he was incensed when he found out would be an understatement, Your Grace."
"Lud, I can see how you must have led Julian a merry chase. You would have to be someone very special if my Julian chose you for his wife. Thank God you are not one of those milksops that usually hang around my grandson. Perhaps what the Westfield family has needed is a good dose of robust American blood to fortify future generations.
Lavender looked startled, while the dowager moved to the couch and motioned for her to join her there. "Now tell me all about yourself. I want to hear details about some of your daring exploits. Tell me how you got my grandson to marry you. You may not know it, my dear, but you have married the prize catch in all England. Ambitious mamas have been trying to help their daughters lure my grandson into matrimony for years, and you chose to marry him rather than hang."
"1 did not set out to catch your grandson, Your Grace."
The dowager's eyes danced with glee. "I cannot wait until word of this gets around the bon ton that Julian is married. There will be an influx of callers all anxious to see the woman who finally captured Julian."
Lavender sat down beside the dowager duchess, feeling completely baffled by her words. "Are you saying you approve of this marriage?"
"Approve! My dear, I am ecstatic with happiness. I became weary of waiting for Julian to take a wife. Since Julian did not seem inclined to marry, and with William dead, I could see my husband's side of the family dying out, and the Mannington title passing to a distant cousin." She looked Lavender over carefully. "You are a little on the slender side, but you appear to be healthy enough. Now we will have children to carry on. And, if God in his infinite mercy sees fit, I will hold a great-grandchild in my arms before I die. See, child, you not only made my grandson happy, you also brought joy to an old woman's heart."
Lavender shook her head. "You do not understand, Your Grace. Julian did not marry me because of any great love he has for me. He married me out of revenge.
358
He believes I am responsible for his brother William's death."
The dowager stared at Lavender reflectively. "And are you responsible for William's death?"
"Only indirectly. I did ..." Lavender had to swallow hard before she could continue. She hated the fact that tears gathered in her eyes. "I did . .. lure Julian's brother to a tavern with the intentions of taking documents from him, which I did. I suppose one could say I am guilty of driving him to take his own life."
"Nonsense. You are no more responsible for William's death than Julian is." The dowager handed Lavender her own lace handkerchief and waited for her to dry her tears. "I had hoped Julian had come to his senses by now."
"I apologize, Your Grace. It is not usually my habit to weep, although I have been doing more than my share lately. I really am sorry."
"And no wonder," the dowager said kindly. "That grandson of mine has placed a load of guilt on your small shoulders." The dowager duchess felt her heart melt as she took the small hand in hers. She could see what had drawn Julian to this lovely creature. Julian may have told this child, and indeed he may have even convinced himself, that he had married her out of some kind of twisted revenge, but the dowager was not fooled for a moment.
The dowager duchess's kindness only brought a flood of fresh tears to Lavender's eyes. "I am sorry, Your Grace," she said, dabbing at her eyes.
"Stop apologizing, child, it's a sign of weakness" came the mild rebuke. "Besides, you are a duchess now and don't have to apologize to anyone for anything. And don't call me, Your Grace. You may call me Grandmama, Julian does." Her eyes twinkled. "I like that idea."
Lavender raised her head. "I will try to remember that."
"Good. Now, I want to tell you something that may help you better understand Julian. Julian's mother, Anne, was a frail but lovely woman." She gave Lavender a furtive glance. "She was a Billingsgate— William favored her. Anyway, my son, Richard, died after William was born, thrusting Julian into the dukedom at an early age."
The dowager duchess's eyes became sad. "Anne recognized Julian's strength, as she was also aware of William's weakness. She must have known she was going to die, because she charged Julian to look after his brother, never knowing what a burden she was placing on his young shoulders. Julian always felt as if he was responsible for William, and when William took his own life, I suppose in some way Julian blamed himself because he had not prevented it."
"Now I can better understand why Julian seems so driven at times. I wish I could take all the blame and set him free of his torment."
"You cannot do that, Lavender. We all make our own hell, and we must either tear it down, stone by stone, or live in it." She smiled. "1 have every confidence you will help Julian tear his hell down."
Lavender came to her feet. "You have been so kind to me, so 1 cannot allow you to continue to believe in a fallacy. I will not be staying with Julian past.. . past the time this child is born."
The dowager came to her feet, her eyes searching Lavender's face. "Are you saying you are with child, now—at this moment?"
"Yes. That is the only reason Julian married me. He has charged me to give him this child in place of his brother's life. I will be returning to America as soon as the baby has been delivered."
The dowager duchess was quiet for a long moment. "Lord, this is a twist. Julian has gone to great lengths to delude himself—and you." Her eyes brightened. "But, no matter. I am too happy about the baby to dwell on unhappy thoughts. As far as you leaving the child and going back to America, that will never happen."
"I have to tell you that I feel nothing for this child," Lavender said bravely.
"Have you felt it move yet?"
"No."
"Do not worry, my dear, once you feel the child stir within your body, you will fight anyone who tries to take it away from you—Julian included. My fondest prayer is that the child will be a boy."
"It has to be," Lavender said wistfully. "Julian said I cannot leave until I give him a son."
The dowager duchess clapped her hands delightedly. "That tops it. He is just like his grandfather, too stubborn to admit he can love a woman. I settled Julian's grandfather, and made him like it. You will do the same with Julian."
At that point the door was pushed open and Julian himself came strolling in. His eyes swept past Lavender to his grandmother. There was adoration in his eyes as they rested on the dowager. "How are you Grand-mama?"
"Little you care." The softness of the look she gave him took the sting out of her words. "You probably spent the day at Almack's Club, instead of coming to see me."
He took her into his arms and kissed her forehead. "Nothing but matters of the greatest importance could have kept me away from you, Grandmama. And, also, I thought you would be at Mannington." His eyes went to Lavender. "Have the two of you been getting acquainted?'
His grandmother smiled at Lavender. "We have been conspiring behind your back, Julian."
He laughed at the dowager duchess, and turned his eyes to his wife. "I warned you, Lavender, that my grandmother will pull you into some of her devious schemes."
"What have you been telling this child about me, Julian?" his grandmother asked. "She was terrified of me when she first came in."
He smiled mockingly. "I merely told her that you were a fire-breathing dragon."
The dowager saw the look her grandson bestowed upon his wife. If someone did not know Julian, they would have thought he was completely indifferent to Lavender, but the dowager felt the tenseness in him, and saw the fire that burned in his eyes. There was much trouble between these two young people, and she intended to do her part to bring them together. Knowing Julian's nature, and knowing how proud he could be, she knew she would have to proceed very slowly. After all, she owed it to her unborn great-grandchild to interfere, she reasoned.
"The first thing I am going to do is have a dressmaker come to the house. We cannot have the Duchess of Mannington receiving guests in that pitiful gown," Julian's grandmother stated firmly.
Julian laughed. "I told Lavender that you would try to run her life, Grandmama." He sat back on the couch, watching Lavender's face. "Don't say you were not warned."
"What you need is someone to take you in hand, Julian. I thought you had better manners than to leave your wife alone on her first day in London. If your grandfather had done that to me, I might not have been here when he returned. For that matter, you might never have been born, because I would have had nothing to do with him. I would have thought you would take better care of your new bride."
Julian stared into Lavender's eyes. "You will learn, Grandmama, when you know her better, that my wife can take care of herself."
19
For the last week Lavender had spent her days standing before a highly acclaimed French dressmaker, being poked, measured, and pinned. Gowns of every color and description now filled the huge cher
ry-wood wardrobe in Lavender's dressing room. Dazzling jewels had been purchased, and the numerous necklaces, bracelets, and rings were in a locked jewel box on Lavender's dressing table. The floor of her huge wardrobe was lined with soft leather shoes, while gloves, hats, and bonnets to match every gown were on the upper shelves. The gowns she had worn on the voyage across the Atlantic had been distributed among the servants. Lavender's head was reeling from such finery.
It did no good for Lavender to remind Julian's grandmother that, as she grew bigger with the baby, the gowns would soon be too small for her. The dowager had merely shrugged her shoulders and stated that Lavender would be able to get into them again once the baby was born, unless, of course, she wanted new gowns at that time.
Lavender hardly ever saw Julian. He left the house early each morning, and did not return until after she had gone to bed. He never came to her room, and Lavender could not bring herself to go to him. In moments of weakness, when she imagined him with another woman, jealousy would burn in her heart.
The family doctor was called in to examine Lavender, and had proclaimed her healthy and predicted the baby would be born in the early spring. Of course the man was told that Julian and Lavender had been married three months earlier than they actually had.
When the word reached the bon ton that Julian was married, invitations came to the house every day, inviting Julian to balls, galas, luncheons, and dinners. Julian's grandmother always sent their regrets, using Lavender's delicate condition as an excuse. Wanting to spare Lavender the agony of being looked at and fawned over, she also refused to invite her friends to come to the house.
However, Lavender and the dowager did draw a lot of attention each afternoon when they rode in an open carriage through St. James's Park. Lavender was discovering that the most prominent in English society always paraded their finery in the park. It appalled her to learn that, even though it was a public park, servants were posted at the entrances of the grounds to keep out the undesirables. She knew such snobbery would never be tolerated in America.
Lavender Lies (Historical Romance) Page 27
