“A boy,” said Violet with the darkest of scowls.
Miss Wallace had to stifle a laugh. “Are you disappointed to have a brother?” she asked.
“I told Mama and Papa I wanted a baby sister.”
“But brothers can be good, too,” said James. “I have two and your papa has three. Perhaps you will like having one, too.”
“But I wanted someone to play with,” said Vi.
“You can play with me,” said Anna.
“That’s true,” said James carefully. He hated to disappoint Violet when she’d just lit up at the prospect of having a friend to play with, but he was compelled by honesty to add, “But, unfortunately, Anna and I are leaving town tomorrow.”
“But you’re coming back, aren’t you?” asked Vi. “We’re going to be in London until baby Daniel is old enough to travel. Then we’re going back to Marston Vale. If we’re not here when you get back, you can go there.” She looked at him eagerly and, even worse, Anna seemed excited.
But if everything went as he hoped, James knew they wouldn’t be coming back to London or visiting Marston Vale. They would be on their way back to America. It seemed cruel to deprive Anna of her new friend, but she could make new ones in America, even though in the eight years James had lived there, he hadn’t made many.
It was a disturbing thought.
Irene broke the silence. “That is a lovely invitation, Violet. And I am certain that Lord James and Anna will visit you the next time they are in town or in Marston Vale. And if that should not happen soon, perhaps you could write letters.”
“I would truly love that!” said Violet.
“I would, too!” said Anna, who now had a line of chocolate below her lip.
Irene dampened a napkin, then gently wiped it away as the two young girls talked about the letters they would write.
Two more ladies passed by. James heard one of them say “Some people should not be allowed in polite company.”
And that was quite enough of that.
He stood and addressed them. “Excuse me, but I could not help but overhear your remarks. No doubt that was your intent. You have the right of it. Some people shouldn’t be allowed in polite company. But since you are leaving, there will be no need to have you thrown out.”
His remarks were met with a moment of complete silence, save for the muffled laugh coming from, if he didn’t miss his mark, Miss Prudence. But in that moment, no one else at Gunter’s said a word. The two so-called ladies he’d addressed stood there with jaws inelegantly ajar.
The first woman, who looked to be in her early thirties, recovered first. “Who are you to speak to two ladies thusly?”
“I am Lord James Emerson, recently returned from America with my beautiful daughter and enjoying tea with my friends. You are married, I take it, madam?”
“Yes,” said the woman, who was looking James over with some interest now that he was a roughly dressed peer, rather than some roughly dressed nobody.
“Then I would tell your husband that the next time his wife insults either my daughter or my friends, I shall treat the insult as if it came from him and act accordingly.”
That elicited gasps from the rest of the diners. It would also surely be spread about the ton within the hour.
James didn’t care.
“I believe you were leaving,” James said to the ladies. “Pray do not let me keep you.”
With that he turned his back on them and resumed his seat. An instant later, the silence of the past few minutes erupted into excited mutterings at the other tables.
At his table, all he saw were grins. Then Violet and Anna resumed their conversation and Miss Wallace and Miss Maria discussed an exhibit at the British Museum.
James became aware of Miss Prue staring at him. “Nicely done,” she said.
“Yes, well, I hope I did not embarrass you or Miss Maria overly much.”
“Not much can embarrass me anymore. And I long ago stopped listening to the gossips. I care little for my own reputation, but I have worried how it will affect my niece and nephews and Maria, of course. I hope you are not chased away from London because of the untamed tongues of witless peers.”
He laughed at the apt description. “No, I have a farm in America. Well, there is some legal dispute at the moment, but I intend to get it back and return there with Anna.”
“That is a shame, Lord James. Your sisters and, if I might presume to say it, both of your brothers will miss you very much. I daresay your dear Anna will miss out on a great deal if you return there.”
“Yet, I have no means of supporting her if I remain here.”
“I do not know Ridgeway well, but I sincerely doubt he would bar you from returning to the family estate. Nor would Layton.”
“I do not wish to live on any man’s charity, even my brothers’.”
“That would be quite understandable, were you the only consideration. I realize I am being unforgivably forward when I have no business saying such things, but I believe your family would be much happier if you stayed, though it might necessitate putting aside some of your pride for the nonce. I believe there might even be some happiness in it for you, as well.” She glanced at Miss Wallace, who was still engrossed in her conversation with Miss Maria.
James inwardly groaned. He knew Miss Prue wouldn’t gossip about them, but if she picked up on the attraction between them, was he harming Miss Wallace’s reputation just by spending time in her company? “You have the right of it that my family already cares a great deal for Anna and she has grown quite fond of them. But what of the rest of society? As you noticed here today, her birth would always be the object of derision. Her marriage prospects within the ton would be slim. I would not wish to subject her to the life of a second-class citizen.”
“Will her prospects be that much better in America? Are they that much more of a tolerant people? A country that cannot rid itself of slavery is hardly a haven of equality and tolerance.”
“Slavery is an abhorrent part of American life. And you are correct that a girl of mixed Indian heritage would encounter problems, but…”
“But you are determined to go your own way. To, perhaps, prove something to a dead man.”
He looked up in surprise.
She smiled kindly at him. “Young men are not so hard to understand. They either have a father they long to live up to, even when he has been dead these many years – as is the case with my nephews. Or they want to win an argument with a dead tyrant. Pray forgive my rudeness, but my position at the edge of society permits me to observe without being seen. You and your brothers – both of them – are much better men than your father ever was. And you need do nothing more to prove it. Indeed, from the way you adore your daughter, you have already succeeded.”
James was not sure what to say. Miss Prue had hit upon thoughts he’d had, but never voiced aloud. But he did not think he could so easily set aside his pride.
“I am terribly sorry for overstepping,” said Prue. “It is one of my worst failings. Although I am not a Kellington by birth, I do love an entire family of them and I fear their meddling nature has rubbed off on me. But before I begin a dismally dull conversation about the weather, please allow me to say one more thing. There are places in the world where Maria and I could live a relatively peaceful, unnoticed life. But we will never move there because of what we would miss here. Another generation of Kellingtons is on the way and I cannot imagine missing a moment of those celebrations. I can bear any insult here, as long as I am among those I love.” She turned her gaze to Maria and Violet. “Now, Lord James, will you tell me how cold it is outside or must I?”
Twenty minutes and one cinnamon cake later, James, Miss Wallace and Anna escorted the ladies to their waiting carriage. James noticed the coachmen’s livery was quite smart, and the men themselves had the builds of pugilists. If he wasn’t mistaken, all were also armed.
He had a feeling Lynwood took no chances with the ladies’ safety.
James
had become quite fond of them himself.
“You will visit when you come back, won’t you?” Violet asked Anna. “I could show you my little brother. I sneak into Mama and Papa’s room to watch him sleep.”
“Violet!” said Prue. “Why are you sneaking?”
“Well, I don’t want them to know that I’m beginning to like him because I do want them to give me a baby sister next time.”
“If Papa has a baby boy, then my brother and your brother could be friends,” said Anna. “Just like you and I are friends.”
Violet liked that idea. “I hope your papa and Miss Wallace get married soon! That way your brother and my brother would be babies together.”
“Violet!” said Prue, with that loving admonition again. “I am quite certain Lord James and Miss Wallace do not need any advice on when they should get married. They will decide that quite well enough on their own.”
“But we are not betrothed,” said Miss Wallace. “We are not even…we…oh, dear.”
“Yes, well I’m sure everything will work out in the end,” said Prue. “And do be so kind as to come visit when you have returned from your journey.”
With that, the two women and Violet left in their carriage, with the well-armed servants.
And now James had even more to think about.
CHAPTER NINE
Irene’s heart was in her throat early the next morning when she left the house. She’d packed only a single valise because a governess would hardly bring a large trunk. She’d never before travelled so lightly and found it to be a rather liberating experience. Her grandmother had always insisted that she dress like a true lady of the ton, which necessitated changing clothes at least six times per day, a practice Irene had always found tedious for her and torturous for the poor servants who had to tend to her wardrobe.
When she’d informed her grandmother the night before that she was taking a spur of the moment trip to visit her friend Lady Lancaster, the dowager had told her to be cautious. Lady Lancaster’s standing had fallen in the ton ever since she’d chosen to spend too much time hidden away in the country. If Irene paid her too many more visits, it would reflect poorly on her. And it wouldn’t do to develop a reputation as an eccentric, since she was still in desperate need of a marriage proposal.
While Irene was unwed, she certainly did not consider herself in need of a proposal, much less desperately so. She simply smiled at her grandmother as she so often did when the dowager was spouting such absurdities, then went back to anticipating her trip.
Fortunately, neither her grandmother nor her father had seen her off that morning. She’d been confident that her early morning departure would guarantee that no one save Carter the butler and the coachmen would be there. For his part, Carter looked like he’d rather be breaking his fast in the kitchen. But it wasn’t until the coach had been underway for several blocks that she finally relaxed.
Her adventure had begun.
She’d styled her hair simply, just a low chignon at the nape of her neck. But she’d still taken an extra five minutes to make it look just right. She needed to appear to be a governess, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t look her best. She steadfastly refused to examine just why she was so intent on doing so. Some thoughts were better left undisturbed.
Selecting her clothing had been another matter all together. It was just as well that she was only taking a valise, because she did not have many gowns that were suitable for a governess. In truth, she had none. But she wasn’t above making some simple alterations.
In the end, she chose a periwinkle blue wool, then carefully removed the delicate embroidery that adorned the collar. She cursed Cedric as she did so, because it was a sin to desecrate such a pretty dress.
Then she had a green gown which could pass, if she wrapped dull wool scarves around the intricate neckline. There was a dark sapphire gown that, well, didn’t look like anything a governess would wear, but she had always felt her most confident in it. And she had a feeling she would need all the confidence she could muster. Especially when she would be sharing the long journey with the impossibly handsome and incredibly frustrating James Emerson.
It would have looked too suspicious for her to dress in one of the plain gowns for her journey, since her grandmother had always made her travel in her best clothes. So she left the house wearing a plum colored travelling gown with matching muff and bonnet.
Irene and James had made plans to meet at a coaching house just outside of London. She’d told her coachman that Lady Lancaster was sending a carriage to meet her and that she would rent a room in which to wait for her. That would enable her to change out of her travelling costume and into one of the plain governess gowns, as she waited for James and Anna.
She knew she shouldn’t be thinking of him as James, but when he was with his daughter he did not seem like a stiff and formal lord. He was James, the man who loved his daughter above all else and wanted to farm his land.
His land. She was genuinely torn about the land dispute. There was a part of her that wanted James to be right, to be able to regain his land so he could pursue his dreams. But that would mean Cedric had behaved dishonorably. Had stolen the land from James. The resultant shame could kill her father.
Damn Cedric for getting them into this. Even if he hadn’t stolen the land, and, unfortunately, she was beginning to realize there was a distinct possibility he had, he’d still been vague enough in his dealings that others were left to clean up his mess once again.
That seemed to happen with some regularity with Cedric. It was unfortunate that neither their father nor grandmother had ever truly made him feel the consequences of his actions.
But she wasn’t going to think about that now. She was on an adventure. A real one. She was going away with a man for at least four days with only his daughter as a chaperone. She certainly had no intentions of doing anything improper. Well, not anything terribly improper. But it was exciting just to be out of her house, away from the constant criticism. She would be spending time with two people whose company she genuinely enjoyed.
The Ainsworth carriage drew to a halt in front of a reputable inn that she’d heard of, but never patronized. Irene could barely contain her excitement as one of the footmen went into the inn to rent a room for two hours. It was not an uncommon practice for ladies to do that on their journeys. Often it was the only way to use a clean necessary. She’d purposely chosen an inn so close to London that it was unlikely she would encounter anyone she knew. Those on their way out of town would travel further before stopping. Those returning from trips would continue on to their homes.
“Are you certain you don’t wish us to wait, my lady?” asked Terrence, the footman who’d secured the room.
“Thank you, no. I shall be fine on my own. And I expect Lady Lancaster’s carriage will be here directly.”
“If you’re certain, my lady.” He looked dubious.
“I am, thank you,” said Irene as she held out a few coins, “But do be certain to enjoy the half day at your leisure. There is no need for Lady Ainsworth or Lord Ainsworth to know.”
Terrence pocketed the coins as he bowed. “No, my lady. There’s no need for them to know about any of this.”
“Good man,” she said, as she waved farewell to the servants, then joined the innkeeper’s wife who was waiting to escort her to her room.
Once she was shown to her chamber, Irene thanked her, then gave her a substantial vale. If the innkeeper’s wife thought the generous amount was odd, she kept her suspicions to herself. She simply thanked Irene profusely and bowed herself out.
Once Irene was alone, she made the transition to governess. She carefully removed her travelling gown. She’d chosen one with buttons in the front, but it was still a more difficult task than she’d anticipated.
She packed that gown away, cringing at how wrinkled it would be for her return trip. Then she put on the periwinkle dress and took a look at herself in the mirror. The gown would certainly pass for somethin
g a governess would wear. Then she donned the spectacles with clear glass she’d bought the day before and was satisfied that her disguise was complete.
She wondered how long she would have to wait before James arrived. He couldn’t be shown to her room, of course. That would attract too much attention and no matter how well she’d paid the innkeeper’s wife, word of that would spread even if no one knew her name.
She had to stop herself from watching from the window. It wouldn’t do to be spotted now. They’d arranged to meet at half past nine and she still had ten minutes to wait. It seemed like an eternity.
There was a knock at the door not three minutes later. Irene’s breathing hitched. Had James abandoned all good sense to come collect her? Perhaps it was the landlady. Irene looked out the peephole, but could see no one standing on the other side.
There was another knock, which would be impossible, since she was staring into the hall where a person would be. Unless….
She opened the door to see a smiling Anna, holding a posy for her.
“Anna, this is lovely!” said Irene, as she hugged the girl.
“I’m glad you’re coming with us,” said Anna.
“So am I, sweeting. Where is your papa?”
“Downstairs. He watched me come up the stairs and said if I needed him, I should call him.”
“That was very well done of you both. I am ready to go,” she said as she picked up her valise. “Shall we set out?”
Anna nodded and took her hand. As the two of them neared the bottom of the stairs, James automatically jumped up from his seat to help them. Irene’s heart behaved erratically for a beat or two at the sight of him, but with a look she warned him off. They were not supposed to know each other. She and Anna left the inn with James following discreetly behind.
He tried to take her valise once they were in the courtyard. She held onto it. “Lord James, a servant carries her own bags.”
“Not in the Emerson family they don’t,” said James, who took the valise despite her protestations. “Remind me to tell you the story of how my brother Colin made his way to his estate after acquiring two additional servants, with little blunt in his pocket. It involves a farmer and a cart. Nick and I plan to tease him about it for decades to come.”
Always True to Her (Emerson Book 2) Page 9
