by Erin Grace
The old cook placed a huge ceramic bowl upon the table, looked up at her and smiled.
‘What’s the matter, dear?’
Despite her melancholy thoughts, she smiled back. The woman’s joy and enthusiasm for the season was contagious. If everyone else at Etford Park ignored the fact Christmas was only weeks away, Mrs Peel made up for them tenfold. In fact, when she’d questioned the cook about how his lordship intended celebrating this year, the woman merely grinned, winked and carried on her tasks.
‘Mrs Peel. Allow me to introduce my aunt, Henrietta Talbot.’
Mrs Peel nodded and held out her hand. ‘Oh, you’re the vicar’s wife? I’ve seen you out and about, but I don’t get time to go to church I’m afraid.’
Henrietta gave a weak smile, ignored the cook’s friendly gesture and sat herself down at the kitchen table.
She grimaced at her aunt. ‘I know you’re very busy, Mrs Peel, but would you be kind enough to make my aunt some tea before she returns to the vicarage? But, please don’t go to too much trouble.’
The old cook eyed Henrietta thoughtfully and nodded as if able to sum up her aunt in a heartbeat.
‘Don’t you worry, dear. I’ll see to her.’
She reached out, touched Mrs Peel on the arm and leaned in. ‘And would you please keep your eyes out for a young girl. My sister has gone missing. Her name is Stephaney. I must go attend to Lady Cecily now, but I’ll explain later.’ She paused and lowered her voice. ‘I don’t think Mrs Godfrey would be too pleased if she discovered my sister here somewhere.’
The cook smiled and have gave her a knowing wink. ‘Now, don’t worry your head. If she shows up here, I’ll be sure to send Polly for you right away. Now, unless I’m mistaken, you’d better be getting her ladyship ready for afternoon tea. She will be taking it in the Rose room today.’
The Rose room?
She only hoped Lady Cecily didn’t eat bonbons.
Chapter 13
At the approaching carriage, Gabriel slowed down his mount to a trot. The dark green and gold livery of the accompanying footmen looked familiar. Lord Hoxton, if he wasn’t mistaken. His lordship had a vast estate here in Maidstone, not far from a small house belonging to his father.
Though his family rarely visited the old manor, it was necessary to keep a prudent eye on its upkeep. He’d spent the past few days inspecting farmers’ cottages and noting urgent repairs that needed to be done.
As the icy wind picked up and blew hard against him his wounded thigh began to throb, aching down to the bone. Hell, and the devil. What he wouldn’t give for some brandy. Would he never be free of the pain? Gritting his teeth, he adjusted the collar of his coat and raised the edge of his scarf. For once he wished himself back in India.
Despite the endless heat and humidity, he’d enjoyed sleeping under the stars as the exotic aromas of spices floated on the evening air. Within a few weeks of being stationed there, he’d developed a taste for the local cuisine and would regularly feast upon fiery curries and fragrant pilafs. He would trade bits of his kit for interesting souvenirs from traders and sit for hours at a time just watching the fascinating daily bustle of the marketplace. Once, he’d swapped his pocket watch for a beautiful carved chess set made from ebony and ivory. He’d sent the gift to his father, though lord knows if the man ever noticed it. But, he hadn’t cared. Never had he felt so at ease with the world…and himself.
It had been as if he was given a second chance to find himself, find his soul. In India he was a Captain, a man, not merely a second son. But the sense of freedom and purpose he’d enjoyed had been cut short by the realities of war. In truth, he’d joined the military with the hope of losing himself in something more meaningful than the lies and betrayal he’d left behind at Etford Park.
And, to some extent, he’d found what he was looking for. Except those memories too would now haunt him forever. He swallowed hard at the thought of those lying dead and dying on the battlefield, their wounded horses beside them. Indeed, when struck down he considered himself consigned to the devil. But, against his own wishes, he’d survived.
Amongst the fading images of fellow soldiers echoing in his mind, Lily’s soft smile began to shine through, her beautiful face so vibrant, he could almost reach out and touch her sweet lips.
Damn him for a fool. He clenched his hands around the reins and groaned with frustration. When had he become such a bloody coward? Fearful of his own emotions. Running from anything – or anyone – who threatened to breakdown the immense walls he’d built to protect himself from ever being hurt again.
He hadn’t intended to leave Etford this side of Christmas, especially as the treacherous weather had set in early this year. Already they’d endured heavy snowfalls daily. But, the thought of being so close to Lily and not being able to have her had been too much to bear. Never had he felt so conflicted.
He’d needed to clear his head.
After their encounter in the library, he’d intended to cut short her time as maid and whisk her away to London the next day.
After all, it had been his intention from the first time she’d kissed him, and even more so after he’d kissed her. But, something had bothered him.
Why was Lily frightened of her own future?
Had she suspected his intentions, and feared she would be ruined? If so, he would reassure her of his commitment to her comfort and wellbeing. He would take of her, and she would want for nothing.
But, even as the thoughts entered his mind, something deep down knew what he was prepared to offer wasn’t what Lily desired. Nor, was it what she deserved. In fact, if he were brutally honest with himself, he would condemn such an arrangement as the unfeeling actions of a self-indulgent bastard.
But seeing as it had been so long since he’d liked anything about himself, he found it strange doing battle with a conscience he thought dead and buried. Regret was a damn nuisance.
‘Blast it all. Steady, Hector.’ He reached forward and patted the neck of his horse as the carriage halted to a stop alongside of him. The last thing he wanted was company.
To his dismay, a small window within the carriage door opened and a portly face with a ruddy nose peered out to greet him.
‘I say. You’re Etford’s younger son? Gabriel, isn’t it?’
He touched the rim of his hat and inclined his head. ‘Lord Hoxton, Lady Hoxton. Miserable day for a country jaunt, isn’t it?’
‘It is quite.’ Lord Hoxton rubbed his nose whilst Lady Hoxton, who had to be at least thirty years his lordships junior, sat snuggled under a small mountain of fine furs, nodding her head in vacant agreement. ‘Terribly sorry to hear about Henry. Been meaning to send your father my condolences. Please do pass them along for me, won’t you? Yes, a most amicable fellow, your brother, if ever I knew one. Why, just last season, my darling Amelia here danced the waltz with him at the Feathersham’s ball. Didn’t you, my dear? In fact, several times we had the pleasure of his company during the opera and supper.’
Lady Hoxton raised her gloved hand and tucked a lock of golden hair behind her ear. She seemed uncomfortable by her husband’s recollection and gazed out the opposite window.
‘Yes. My brother did enjoy the opera.’ A wry smile touched his lips. Henry abhorred the opera.
‘Indeed. Indeed. Oh, and I don’t believe you may know about the good news, but Lady Hoxton and I are expecting a child in February.’
‘Is that so?’ By now, Lady Hoxton had turned a deep shade of beet red. ‘Then allow me to convey my felicitations to you both. Perhaps you should get your good wife in out of the cold then? She looks a trifle flushed.’
The man grinned at him and brushed his observation away with a wave of his gloved hand. A whiff of brandy and bad teeth floated on the icy air.
‘Oh, a touch of cold won’t hurt her. No, it’s this blasted epidemic that is most worrisome. We were going to stay in London this year for Christmas, but the cholera outbreak is affecting everyone. Why just last week, Lord Galston
lost his youngest son to the blasted illness. Terrible thing too. Such a lively lad he was. So, we decided to make our way to Hoxton Hall before the roads became completely unmanageable.’
Feeling the biting cold nipping at his own toes, he glanced around at the half dozen footmen who sat silently at their posts, barely able to disguise the way their bodies shook with cold. Although furnished with coats, the poor souls must surely have been frozen to the bone.
‘You have a point. So, I shan’t keep you from arriving at your destination, sir. The snow is getting heavier. I’m sure you’d rather be in front of a warm fire.’
‘Indeed, sir. In fact, why don’t you join us? I’ll even break out my finest cognac.’
He grimaced under the covering of his scarf. Spend the evening with an obnoxious drunkard who had little consideration for the welfare of his men? He’d rather play charades with the vicar’s wife.
‘Thank you, but I must decline. I am merely here to check on Rosebury Cottage then I must return to Etford tomorrow.’
The man laughed and shook his head.
‘Cottage? I dare say, the place has twenty-two rooms, doesn’t it? Though, I suppose it’s small in comparison to Etford Park. We must come visit your father one day. It’s been years since we’ve been to one of his famous house parties.’
Ice, colder than the snow whipping his face, trickled into his veins. ‘As far as I am aware, sir, there have been no house parties at Etford since the death of my mother.’
The old lord paled and appeared to swallow.
‘Yes. Yes, of course. My apologies. My memory isn’t what it used to be, I’m afraid. In fact, I was saying to Lady Stanton just yesterday, how time is passing with no regard for those of us travelling within it.’
‘Lady Stanton? How is her daughter?’
‘Oh, my boy.’ The man touched the side of his nose then took a swig from a tiny silver flask. ‘You should know, eh?’
He bristled at the man’s insinuation. ‘I beg your pardon, sir?’
‘Why, your engagement to Cecily, of course. Now, I know I had promised Iris not to say anything just yet, but we are one of your family’s oldest friends. And, you can be assured of our complete confidentiality on the matter.’
Through his heavy leather gloves, his hands clenched tight around the reins, wishing they were the blasted man’s throat.
‘She told you we were betrothed?’ Anger rose within him, thawing the frost that had settled in his veins until a river of molten lead warmed every fiber of his being like no amount of cognac could. The wretched woman had no right to spread such rumor when nothing had been confirmed. But, with Lord Hoxton in receipt of such news, he’d little doubt half of London would know by Christmas Eve.
The man frowned at his biting tone.
‘Yes. Well, perhaps not in so many words. But I think it is very amiable of you to offer for your brother’s fiancé. Damn good ton, if you ask me.’
‘I didn’t ask you.’ His retort appeared to go unheard. Not that he cared in the least. He’d long passed the stage of worrying about his reputation. ‘Is Lady Stanton still in London?’
‘Haven’t the foggiest, I’m afraid. It’s been three days since we left our townhouse. Lady Hoxton gets rather ill from the carriage ride, you see, so we have to stop frequently. As for Lady Stanton, we didn’t meet her in London, happened upon her at Lord Petherbridge’s last night. Most kind of him to let us stay, don’t you think? Not good to be out in this blasted snow for too long.’
But he no longer felt the cold. Instead, instinct told him he needed to return to Etford Park – now.
Unhappy that no one was in the vicarage to answer the door for her, Henrietta placed her teacup into its saucer with a loud clang, brushed the scone crumbs from her skirts and stood up from her chair by the hearth.
How inconsiderate. Didn’t she spend enough time serving the parish without having her few precious quiet moments disturbed? Whoever was at the door, they had better hope their news was of great importance else they’d face a rather blunt putdown.
After all, it was well known throughout Speckles Wood she enjoyed some influence in high places.
‘Yes. Yes. Do be patient.’ She grasped the cold iron handle opened the door and was greeted by the pale, recalcitrant face of a women dressed in the most luxuriant fur coat she’d ever seen.
The woman raised an eyebrow and issued her a piercing glare colder than the icy snow outside her door. ‘Is it customary for you to leave an important guest standing on your stoop in the cold wind?’
‘Gracious no. Do come in.’ She fumbled a swift courtesy then pulled at her skirts and reached up to touch her hair, hoping they were in good order. ‘What do I owe the honor of this visit, madam? I am Henrietta Talbot. Are you new to Speckles Wood? My husband is the vicar. Lord Etford’s vicar, to be precise. Were you in need of his services?’
The woman glared at her as she stepped inside, tilting her head as not to strike it on the low door jamb.
‘Wait outside in the carriage, Annie. I shan’t be long.’ A young girl, most probably a maid, dipped a curtsey then scurried away as she was bid. Oh my. The lady was obviously of good ton. She always could tell quality and breeding – a skill her husband never did appreciate.
‘Please be seated, madam. May I offer you some tea?’ She cursed herself for allowing Lily to be at Etford. With Caroline at the market, she had no one else at home to serve them.
‘I am Lady Stanton.’ The faded chintz settee was far from inviting, yet Iris Stanton didn’t wish to stand on ceremony. She eyed the seat for any obvious stains that might transfer then gingerly sat down. ‘No tea, thank you. I shan’t be staying long. I am expected elsewhere.’
‘Lady Stanton? Of course! Do excuse me. How wonderful to meet you at last. I didn’t recognize you from the funeral service the other week. Though, I suppose one could put that down to the heavy black veil you were wearing at the time. Most proper, I must say. And, so elegant. It was a pity you had to leave directly after the final blessing.’
Her teeth ground at the woman’s incessant babbling, but she forced a stern smile. ‘Allow me to be frank, Mrs Talbot. I have come here on a matter most grave.’
The woman paled into silence. She almost smiled at the delightful change. ‘Oh, my lady. I sincerely hope no one in your family has passed away. However, if that were the case, I would be only too happy to arrange…’
‘On the contrary, Mrs Talbot. It is not a funeral I seek to arrange, but the timely intervention of us both before a horrendous mistake is made. And, your niece is at the centre of this potentially disastrous affair.’
‘Stephaney? Oh, you mean, Lily? What has she done?’
‘I have it on good authority that Miss Bowden has been paying far too much attention to Captain Holsworthy.’
With a deep sense of satisfaction, she thought about the letters tucked away in her reticule, from her secret confidante within the village. Such loyalty would not go unrewarded.
Mrs Talbot floundered. ‘Why…why I shall talk to her immediately. At least, I shall talk to her when she gets home. She is due for her first afternoon away from Etford Park tomorrow…’
Good God. The woman looked about to swoon – something she detested entirely.
‘…I allowed her to work at Etford Park - at my sister-in-law’s great insistence and this is the thanks I get. I am shocked, deeply shocked, that Lily would be flirting in such a manner with his lordship’s son.’
She blinked in disbelief. The woman’s speed was dizzying. In fact, she hadn’t even seen Mrs Talbot draw breath once.
‘I wouldn’t say flirting, Mrs Talbot, but as we are both women, you can understand how something even minor could be misconstrued.’
‘Oh, I do indeed, your ladyship. I should have known nothing but trouble would have come from her accepting that position. But, what is one to do?’ Mrs Talbot removed a small handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her nose. ‘She is family, after all, and it is so unki
nd of her to risk ruining our good standing with his lordship.’
She restrained the sudden urge to roll her eyes at the overwhelming outpour of emotion. Pity none of it could be considered genuine. The woman should have been on the stage.
She forced a smile to her lips. ‘My dear, Mrs Talbot, may I call you Henrietta? I’m sure it was nothing that cannot be rectified at this point. However, it would be wrong of me to just sit idly by and allow Miss Bowden to set her cap at someone far above her reach.’
‘It would?’
‘Of course. After all, I am a mother as well, aren’t I?’ One who will be damned before she allows some social-climbing little chit to ruin her own daughter’s chance at a wealthy title. ‘It would be so unfair to the poor girl. Don’t you agree?’
The woman clutched her hands over her heart, beady little eyes beaming.
‘Yes. Oh, how very kind, and thoughtful that you would spare the time to take an interest in us. If only the girl’s mother would learn from your example, my lady. Lily has always acted above her station, as a direct result of her mother’s lack-luster discipline. Come here with nothing they did, and we took them in, naturally. It was the charitable Christian thing to do, and of course we are family. In fact, just last week I was saying to Caroline, my husband’s sister, that it was high time Lily settled down with her own husband.’
‘Quite so.’ A grin snaked its way across her lips. ‘And, it is obvious that I made the right decision in coming to you. As the wife of the parish vicar, it does fall upon your shoulders to educate and lead such malleable young minds to the devout and proper path, does it not?’
The foolish woman blushed.
‘Have no concern, your ladyship. I shall speak to my husband post haste about what is to be done. In fact, I’m certain he’ll insist to Caroline that Lily accept Mr Dunford’s proposal without further delay.’
‘Mr Dunford?’
