‘Yes, Lottie. I shall read to Harry until you’re ready to go down.’
Charlotte stripped off her brown dress and held her arms up for her maid to drop a fresh gown over her head. Annie made a suggestion.
‘Miss Carstairs, would you consider taking on one of the new girls as your abigail? You are to be the Duchess of Lenster in a few weeks, you should have your own dresser.’
‘I liked Mary, the girl who helped me this morning, perhaps she would do? Could you ask Mrs Thomas if she could be spared?’
‘Good gracious, miss, you don’t have to ask. You are the mistress here; Mrs Thomas will do as you tell her.’
‘It’s hard to believe I shall be a duchess soon.’ She smiled. ‘It’s a great shame his grace doesn’t have the wherewithal to maintain my improved status.’
‘The duke is a resourceful man, I have no doubt he will provide for you all comfortably.’
‘I do hope so, Annie. It would be delightful to have sufficient funds to purchase gowns and bonnets whenever the whim took me.’
‘Shall I put your hair up for you, Miss Carstairs? That dress is so pretty a braid does not look right with it.’
She seated herself in front of the scratched, half-moon table upon which the speckled mirror rested. ‘Talking of the doctor reminds me - he is calling tomorrow to take us to church in Upton Magna. I should like you to accompany us. The service is at nine o’clock. You need to have the children downstairs and ready by eight o’clock. Please make sure they have eaten before we depart.’
‘Yes, miss, that will be grand. It’s far too long since I’ve attended a service and sung the Lord’s praises.’
Reassured her maid hadn’t thought the arrangement to be out of the ordinary, and had not immediately suggested they apply to Jack for permission, Charlotte decided she would not bother him with the information. She would tell him tomorrow if he appeared and demanded to know where they were going.
Restoring her hair to its normal place in a loose knot on top of her head had not hurt at all. Her forehead felt uncomfortable but otherwise she was delighted with the outcome. Her gown of pale green spotted muslin deserved that she look her best.
‘Excellent, thank you. I hope Mary has such a deft touch with my hair.’ She admired herself from every angle. The modestly scooped neckline showed no more of her bosom than she was happy with; the darker green silk sash exactly matched her eyes and complemented the dress perfectly.
She wriggled her toes, they were almost fully recovered and her dainty green slippers hardly pinched at all.
‘Are you ready yet, Lottie? We are almost dead from hunger,’ Beth called plaintively from the window seat.
‘I am, darling. What you think?’ Charlotte twirled, sending her diaphanous skirts floating out in a soft green cloud.
‘You look like princess, Lottie. Is that your best dress?’
‘Are we having a party?’ Harry asked hopefully.
‘No, Harry. I have nothing else to wear, apart from a morning gown which has seen better days and my very best gown.’ She smiled. ‘Cousin Jack has promised we can go to Ipswich on Monday or Tuesday and purchase fresh garments.’
‘All of us? Can we have new clothes too?’ Beth asked eagerly.
‘Yes, you and Harry as well.’
Harry tugged at Charlotte’s skirt. ‘Why are we having new clothes, Lottie?’
Charlotte froze. She hadn’t told the children about her betrothal. The staff knew because Jack’s shouted proposal had been heard quite clearly in the corridor even with the door of the library shut. How could she have forgotten? It was mainly for their sake she had agreed to his preposterous suggestion. There was no point in prevaricating.
‘We all need fresh garments because I am to marry Cousin Jack in three weeks’ time.’
This announcement was greeted by total silence, for once Beth had nothing to say. Charlotte tried to explain. ‘We decided we are an ideal match. Thurston need’s a mistress and we all need a home.’
Beth chewed her lip thoughtfully. ‘But you hardly know him, Lottie, and if you ask me you don’t even like him overmuch. You’re always shouting at each other, you know.’
Charlotte didn’t need her sister to point out the obvious. ‘Marriages are arranged for many reasons, Beth, and more often from expediency than anything else. I admit Cousin Jack and I have had some lively exchanges, but that shows our life together will not be dull.’ She squatted down, bringing herself to Harry’s level. ‘What about you, Harry? Are you happy about this?’
‘I like Cousin Jack, Lottie. And he said I can have my own puppy.’
‘That was good of him.’ She stood up shaking out her skirts, relieved this section of the first floor had been freshly scrubbed. ‘So, you are both content?’ They nodded and Charlotte felt it was safe to resume their journey downstairs.
‘You will be a duchess, Lottie; mama would have been pleased about that,’ Beth whispered as they entered the breakfast parlour.
Charlotte’s eyes pricked at the reminder of her beloved mother. ‘Yes, Beth, I am sure you’re right.’
Their tardy arrival had been observed and they had hardly arranged themselves comfortably around the table when the wall-door opened and two parlour-maids entered carrying trays. She wasn’t certain if she was disappointed Jack didn’t come to join them for luncheon. Secretly she was eager to see his expression when he saw her in her finery. Dressed as she was, further cleaning was impossible.
‘Shall we stroll around the garden, children? I should dearly like to see the maze you have spent so much time in recently.’
Twenty minutes had elapsed before indoor slippers had been exchanged for stout boots, Beth had on her cloak, Harry his jacket and Charlotte her pelisse and straw bonnet. The sun had gone in during their meal and black clouds had started to roll in from the east. Their proximity to the North Sea meant storms and cold winds were quite common at Thurston at this time of year.
*
They decided to exit through a side door that led directly to the gardens. If they had used the front door they would not have missed Jack who had decided to accompany them and to put himself out to be charming.
When Annie had been fetched and informed him his quarry had already left for her constitutional, his face darkened. How could he persuade her that he wasn’t an irascible, arrogant bastard if she flitted off on her own at every opportunity? He was wondering if he should go after her when Meltham appeared at the library door.
‘Your grace, the reverend gentleman from Upton Magna is here to see you.’
‘Thank you; show him to the library, I have urgent matters to discuss with him.’ His bid to woo his lovely young bride would have to wait.
Chapter Eleven
Sunday morning was overcast; although the heavy rain had stopped the morning cold and damp. Charlotte met the children and their nursemaid in the hall at five minutes to eight.
‘Good morning, you both look smart. Have you had some breakfast?’
‘Yes, Lottie, we had porridge and sugar,’ Harry told her, ‘and I had two bowls full.’
‘They were not large bowls, miss,’ Annie hastily reassured Charlotte. ‘It was at seven, so they have had plenty of time to settle.’
Charlotte smiled. ‘I’m delighted to hear it. It’s some distance to Upton Magna along lanes that I’m certain will be sticky and unpleasant after all the rain we had last night.’
Beth had been keeping watch, her face pressed against the window pane. ‘Dr Andrews is coming, Lottie. He has a closed carriage, so we shan’t get wet if it rains again.’
A footman appeared from the shadows to open the door. Charlotte glanced nervously over her shoulder, expecting an irate Jack to appear at any moment from his lair demanding to know where they were going. Thankfully the door remained closed and they were able to descend the front steps without incident.
She noticed the doctor was resplendent in a bottle green topcoat, snowy cravat and black waistcoat. Charlotte thought it
improper to drop her gaze to his nether regions but assumed he was wearing trousers and boots. Her outfit was the pale gold cambric, with matching chip straw bonnet she had worn on her ill-fated arrival. Annie had worked her usual magic and restored the gown; no one would know it had ever been covered in blood.
‘Good morning, Miss Carstairs, children. I hope I haven’t kept you waiting?’ The young man bowed.
Charlotte curtsied. ‘No, Doctor Andrews, you are in perfect time.’
He handed her into the carriage and stood aside politely as Annie shepherded her charges inside. When they were comfortable he jumped in and the footman folded up the steps.
‘Is it far to Upton Magna, sir?’ Beth enquired.
‘Not as far as Ipswich, but considerably further than Thurston village,’ he answered, smiling, well satisfied with his wit.
‘I expect it will take more than the usual thirty minutes today, will it not, sir? The lanes are so muddy this morning.’ Charlotte said, quietly supplying the information Beth wanted before her sister forgot her manners and commented on the doctor’s evasive and irritating answer.
The coach rocked violently as it traversed a deeper puddle and Harry squealed with delight. ‘This is fun, Lottie. I like it when it’s bumpity.’
Remembering the two bowls of porridge, Charlotte sent up a quick prayer they would not all live to regret his large appetite.
The jogging and bouncing made chitchat all but impossible. They were too busy staying in their seats. After twenty minutes the carriage ride became bearable as it reached the outskirts of the village.
‘Look, children, this is the pretty place we passed where the urchin waved to you’ Charlotte said.
Harry peered hopefully from the window. ‘There’s no one here today; where’s everyone, Lottie?’
Dr Andrews replied for her. ‘The church is outside Upton Magna, in the grounds of Upton Manor, the home of Sir Reginald and Lady Sinclair.’
Harry looked puzzled; this did not answer his question at all. He turned back to Charlotte, ignoring the doctor. ‘Lottie, where’s everyone gone?’
‘They have to walk to church, Harry, so will have set off before us. I expect we shall see some of them in the lane as we get near the church.’
‘I should like to walk. I don’t like this carriage anymore,’ Harry announced and, before Annie or Charlotte could react, he turned the door handle and fell out.
Pandemonium followed his abrupt disappearance. Beth screamed and Annie attempted to get up, blocking both Charlotte’s and the doctor’s passage. The coachman on hearing the noise reined back fiercely and the two horses plunged to a halt, throwing the remaining occupants back onto the squabs.
Charlotte was the first out, without waiting for the steps or the doctor’s assistance she jumped from the carriage and ran back down the lane. Frantically she searched the verge, the narrow road - there was no sign of a crumpled body or crying child. Harry wasn’t there.
She halted, her bonnet hanging down her back, her dress hem mired. ‘Harry, Harry, where are you?’ She called but received no answer. Beth arrived beside her.
‘Where’s he gone, Lottie? Why isn’t he here?’
‘I’ve no idea, Beth’ she forced her mouth to smile. ‘But at least we can be sure he is unhurt for if he had been injured by his fall he would still be lying in the lane, would he not?’
Dr Andrews appeared his face alight with amusement. ‘Miss Carstairs, I can see him, he is unhurt. He is being ministered to by a cottager. He must have flown over the hedge and landed in her garden.’
As he spoke, a wicket gate all but hidden in the overgrown hedge, opened and an elderly lady appeared with Harry holding her hand. ‘Here he is, madam; no harm done; apart from the mud on his clothes he’s as good as new,’ the old lady said with a gummy smile.
Charlotte was unsure whether to scold her little brother or embrace him. ‘Harry, what were you thinking of? You could have been killed.’
Believing he was safe from retribution, Harry stepped forward, saying earnestly, ‘I’m sorry, Lottie, I never meant to fall out, it just happened.’
‘If you are silly enough to open the carriage door when it is in motion, what else do you expect?’
The little boy grinned. ‘It was capital fun, Lottie; I flew over the hedge and landed in the flowerbed.’
‘You are lucky your sister is so forgiving, young man,’ Dr Andrews said sternly, erroneously believing he should admonish her brother. ‘If you were my responsibility you would be soundly beaten for your stupidity.’
Tears filled Harry’s eyes and he hid his muddy face in Charlotte skirts, adding fingerprints to the already ruined dress. She glared at the doctor. ‘Then it is a good thing, sir, that my brother’s behaviour is none of your concern.’
Dr Andrews realized his error and blushed. ‘I beg your pardon, Miss Carstairs, I did not mean to speak out of turn.’ He cleared his throat and brushed invisible dust from his jacket. ‘Do you wish to continue to the church or would you prefer to return home?’
‘I should like to go back to Thurston, if you please; but do not think of accompanying us, Dr Andrews. There is no need for you to miss the service as well. Your coachman will be back in ample time to collect you.’
He nodded his expression formal. ‘If you are sure, then I shall do exactly that. The carriage can turn on the green and I shall walk the remaining mile. Good day, Miss Carstairs.’
She watched him stride away. She sighed; he was a pleasant gentleman and she had not wished to offend him but the children were her concern and no one else’s. He had no right to interfere and to threaten to chastise Harry.
‘Come along, children, we shall get back in the carriage and go home. Next week we shall have our own gig to take us to church.’
‘You’ll like that better, Harry, it has no sides so you can see out,’ Beth told him.
‘What if it’s raining, Lottie, shall we get wet?’
‘No, darling, we shall stay at home in the dry.’
*
Jack was not pleased— in fact he was furious. He had risen early, with a clear head, ready and eager to eat with Charlotte and the children. What did he discover? That they had gone out, gone to church with the doctor, in a closed carriage.
Meltham had pointed out the nursemaid had also accompanied them but that had not tempered his annoyance. He should have been informed, asked, before they accepted the escort of another man.
Charlotte was his responsibility, his future wife, if she wanted to attend Sunday service it was he who would take her, no one else. The fact he had not set foot inside a church for years was immaterial.
The vicar, yesterday, had agreed to bury Jenkins on Monday morning and to post the bans of his forthcoming nuptials at the same time. Jack paced the study, his expression thunderous. What he needed was his own church back in use; he needed to appoint another incumbent. God knows how he was to do that! He stopped, and chuckled at his absurdity. His speech was liberally peppered with blasphemy and he had little time for churchgoing of any sort, but maybe the Almighty was taking a hand, leading him back into the fold after a period in the wilderness.
His anger slowly dissipated as he considered this astounding premise. The unexpected arrival of Charlotte and her brother and sister had come at exactly the point in his life when he needed a jolt, needed to be dragged out of the destructive cycle his days had become.
She was nothing short of a bloody miracle; he had never expected to feel a young woman melt in his embrace again, thought his physical needs would, in future, have to be paid for. But Charlotte responded to him, enjoyed his lovemaking, indeed he had been the one to step back before things got out of control.
He nodded. The lawyers were coming tomorrow; they would know how to find him a new vicar. In the meantime he would expedite the cleaning and repair of the gig then he could drive them to church next Sunday. For the first time since his injuries he was prepared to go out in public, brave the stares of strangers; with C
harlotte beside him he could do anything.
If he started to employ the disgruntled villagers on repairs to their own properties he was fairly sure whoever was behind the attacks would disappear into the underworld. It would not be somebody local but a radical hoping to stir up further trouble as was happening elsewhere in East Anglia.
Happier than he had been since Waterloo he went out to the barn to supervise the cleaning of the gig. He was there when he heard the carriage approaching. It was scarcely ten o’clock, it couldn’t be the church party returning but no one else would call on a Sunday.
He grabbed his jacket and strode through the stable yard to the front entrance. The carriage was unknown to him but its occupants were not.
*
Harry spotted him approaching the stables. ‘Lottie, it’s Cousin Jack. He doesn’t look very pleased to see us.’
‘I expect he’s concerned we have returned unexpectedly early, my love. Annie, take the children in, quickly now.’
The maid needed no further urging; she grasped a hand of each child and hurried away. Charlotte smiled up at the coachman. ‘Thank you, Taylor; I should get back for Dr Andrews, he won’t want to be kept waiting.’
The man touched his hat with his whip handle, clicked to the matched bays, and the carriage trundled off leaving Charlotte alone on the gravel to face Jack.
‘Good morning. We were on our way to church at Upton Magna and Harry had a slight mishap and we were obliged to come home again.’ She hoped he would be satisfied with this explanation, assume it was a matter of damp britches that caused their early return and not enquire further.
‘What sort of mishap?’ He was not to be fobbed off so easily.
She was tempted to lie, but knew Harry would discuss his misadventure with all and sundry. ‘He inadvertently fell from the carriage and…’
‘He what? Is he hurt? For God’s sake, Charlotte, what were you thinking of to let such a thing happen?’
She bristled with annoyance. ‘Harry was unhurt by his tumble, thank you for asking, my lord. If you knew the slightest thing about small boys you would understand exactly how such things can happen to the most conscientious carer.’ She picked up her skirt, straightened her bonnet and, turning her back, marched off nose in the air.
The Duke's Challenge Page 12
