by Autumn Rose
“You have more scruples than you can afford, Nora, but I love you for them, for without that sense of integrity, you would not be yourself.”
“Thank you for understanding, Joanna. But what shall I do if they do not break off this engagement?”
“You will have to tell Miranda the truth and let her make her own decision. She is almost a grown woman, and she has matured even in the last few months.”
“But then I will lose her, Joanna,” and the older woman could not bear the agony in Nora’s eyes. “She will hate me for ruining her life. How could I have kept this from happening? How could I have foreseen it, when I chose some moments of love over respectability? She will never understand why I did it, why we did not marry immediately.”
Nora was lost to her present dilemma, and back in the past, wringing her hands and facing her past all over again. She had been in an awful situation, thought Joanna as she watched her begin pacing again. Yet she has raised a lovely young woman. Joanna got up and stood in front of Nora so she could walk no further. “Stop this, my dear friend. You cannot undo the past. You did the best you could. One cannot control everything, you know. It was not in your power to keep Miranda from running after that child, nor to keep Jeremy from meeting her. Life is like that, you know, full of surprises and beyond our control. Myself, I think you should keep silent no matter what happens, but I understand your scruples nevertheless. Go to this viscount’s home and hope it is only calf love. And if it is not…well, you will do the right thing, whatever you do, for you are both honest and generous.”
Nora took a long, shuddering breath and let herself be calmed by Joanna’s common sense.
“You are right, Joanna. I am anticipating disaster. I’ll concentrate on that dratted Cordelia and how to keep her away from Lord Soames, and let real life take care of itself for the next few weeks.”
“When do you leave?”
“The day after tomorrow.”
“If you need me at all before then, I am here, you know.”
“Yes, and I cannot thank you enough.”
Joanna smiled. “Now, let us sit down and not let these biscuits go to waste.”
Chapter 11
The viscount’s estate was between Bury and Arundel. He had inherited one of the family’s smaller properties, and despite his frequent travels, he made sure the manor house was kept in good repair and that his tenants were well-treated. Now that he had been fairly settled for the last few years, he was in residence as often as possible.
The viscount had escorted the Dillons, for Lavinia was not able to accomplish her packing by the time Sam wished to leave. The Dillons traveled in his chaise, and he rode next to them. It was a long drive south, so they had been ready before dawn, and slept for the first few hours of the journey. But after a brief stop at an inn midway, to rest the horses and to stretch their legs, both Nora and Miranda were wide-awake and very much interested in the landscape. Nora was able to keep her worries at a distance in the excitement of being on the road. She had not traveled out of Hampstead except to London, and had not been south of Chelsea for years. The rolling downs of Sussex were lovely and very different from the wilder moors of Northumberland and Scotland. She decided that, fall where things may, she might as well enjoy herself, and the tense look about her mouth relaxed.
The viscount joined them in the chaise for a few hours after luncheon, and enjoyed pointing out several landmarks. Since it was close to midsummer night, they had the light till early evening, and even when Sam returned to his horse, they were able to watch the sea-mist-green fields roll by.
“I would like to push on, and have dinner at Fairlawn, late though it will be. Can you ladies stand the wait? We have enough light now, but if we stop for a meal, it will be dark when we come out.”
The two women were happy to push on and end the journey sooner rather than later. They had looked their fill and both closed their eyes and were fast asleep soon after they knew no stops would be made. It was Nora who awoke first when the chaise slowed and the viscount lightly knocked on the window.
“We are passing by Sutton now,” he said, “which means we are not far from Fairlawn… I thought you might want a little time to freshen up.”
Nora smiled sleepily and nudged Miranda awake. Both women shook out their dresses and smoothed their hair.
“Do you see that road off to our right?”
Nora and Miranda saw a long avenue of lime trees.
“That is the entrance to the Duke of Sutton’s estate. His grace and the duchess have been invited to join us for a few days later in the week. I think you will enjoy their company.”
Nora was too tired to absorb this information. It had grown cooler, and she could smell the sea. “How far are we now?”
“Only a few miles.”
“And how far are we from the sea? I smell it in the air!”
“Yes, I always know I am close to home when I smell that.” Sam smiled. “We are only about ten miles from Littlehampton. I am hoping for an outing while you are here.”
“I would love that,” Nora said. “I have not been to the shore since I was fifteen, and the coast here must be very different from the north.”
Fairlawn sat on a hill facing east, and as they drove up, the sun had set behind it, leaving the front in shadow and lighting up the side windows as if they were made of gold. It was a small Georgian mansion with a circular drive, and they pulled right up in front of the door. Miranda and Nora were a bit overcome. If this was a “small estate,” then what would Alverstone look like? they wondered.
The housekeeper greeted them warmly and led them up to their rooms, where she had hot baths and a light supper waiting. The two women were so happy to be out of the chaise and so eager to bathe that they almost forgot to bid good night to their host.
He smiled understandingly as Nora turned in the middle of the stairs to thank him for his escort.
“Never mind, Mrs. Dillon. I will see you in the morning. Sleep in if you wish. I am usually up for an early-morning ride before breakfast, but there will be servants in the morning room until ten.”
* * * *
Nora awoke early the next morning as the sun poured through her light muslin curtains. She had forgotten to pull the draperies over them, but since she was usually an early riser, she did not mind. She and Miranda were in adjoining rooms with a connecting door, and she peeked in, knowing that she would find her daughter still asleep, since Miranda tended to be more wide-awake after nine P.M. and to sleep late in the morning. She was happy to let her sleep, and dressed quickly. Her own routine was to breakfast early, write for a few hours, and then take some exercise.
The viscount was there at breakfast when she came down. He was obviously surprised to see anyone up this early.
“I hope I do not disturb you, my lord?”
“Not at all. I am merely surprised to see you up after such a tiring day as yesterday,” Sam replied. “Is Miranda up also?”
“Oh, no.” Nora smiled. “I am the early bird in our household.”
“Well, please help yourself to eggs and ham and cereal. It is all there on the sideboard. I usually serve myself in the mornings,” he added apologetically, “and did not think to have a footman ready till later for you.”
“I assure you, I am quite used to serving myself breakfast,” said Nora. “And cooking it too. I have become quite accustomed to living without servants, you know.”
Sam filed that remark away. If Mrs. Dillon had become accustomed to doing without servants, then did that mean that she had once been waited on? She gave so little information about her past that Sam was intrigued and certain there was a small mystery involved.
“Do you ride, Mrs. Dillon? If you would like to join me tomorrow, I can pick out a mount for you.”
Nora’s face lit up at the prospect before she realized that accepting the offer was quite out of the question. She had not ridden in over eighteen years, and of course had no habit.
“I am afraid
I have not been on a horse for many years, my lord, and I could hardly ride in my morning gown,” she said with such regret that Sam was determined to have her on horseback in the next few days.
“Let me see if I can remedy that,” replied the viscount. “There are trunks of old clothes in the attic and I will set Nellie the task of digging through them. I’m sure there must be a habit or two—outmoded, of course, but that would fit you and Miranda.”
“As much as I would love to ride again, I am not sure I should,” Nora said. “It is almost easier to do without than to have a little taste of pleasure, knowing it is only for a short while,” she said wistfully.
Sam was sure, from this simple statement, that this was the way Mrs. Dillon had survived: not by rationing luxuries, but by doing without them altogether. He felt a sudden desire to give her something, anything, to make up for her years of deprivation, and determined that whatever happened between Jeremy and Miranda, he would see that she could ride whenever she wanted, even after she returned to Hampstead.
“If Miranda married Jeremy, then you both would have every opportunity to ride,” Sam said, curious to get her reaction.
Nora looked up from her eggs and toast to see, if she could, what lay behind that statement.
“But Miranda will not marry Jeremy,” she said quietly, unable to fathom Sam’s expression. “That is what we are here for, isn’t it, to convince them their marriage would never work?”
“But what if it convinces them of the very opposite? Have you thought of that possibility, Mrs. Dillon?”
Of little else, thought Nora. “If that happens, then I will forbid Miranda Jeremy’s company,” she replied.
Although it was what she had been saying all along, Sam was surprised. If her daughter’s heart was truly given and Jeremy’s also, what reason could she have for such a harsh step? Her objections on the basis of age did not make sense either. She could ask for a longer betrothal, surely, so Miranda had time to mature, rather than severing all ties. And if, as Sam was beginning to suspect, the bond between the two young people was genuine and strong, then such an extreme response could send them off to Gretna.
“And if you cost Jeremy and your daughter their happiness?” asked the viscount.
“It would cost far more if they ever married,” replied Nora. Knowing she had said too much and wishing to distract the viscount, she said quickly that she had changed her mind and would like to try riding again, and would seek out the housekeeper herself and help her search the attic trunks.
Sam had no choice but to let the subject drop. He was not willing to push her further, but knew, from her vehemence, there was some other, more serious reason for her objections to the match than age or difference in station. He found himself wishing he could win her trust and get her to share her burden with him, to let someone help her for a change, instead of shouldering it all herself. Perhaps this little house party had been a good idea for more reasons than the original one, he thought as he wiped his mouth with his napkin, pushed his chair from the table, and excused himself.
* * * *
Nora happily let him go. She was determined not to let the viscount push her toward revealing any more than she had already. He was so genuinely friendly that it was difficult to go against her own tendency to be open with people. She had liked him almost from the beginning, and found herself attracted to him. He was quite tall, and a bit thin, and his face was interesting, with light blue eyes a startling contrast to his dark complexion. And his springy black hair looked like it would… Nora caught herself up short. She did not want to wonder what his hair might feel like, or to notice him at all as a man. He was someone who was being kind and hospitable under difficult circumstances, but they would never see each other again after these two weeks.
She finished her breakfast and went back to her room, ready to wrestle with Cordelia and Lord Soames, which would, she hoped, keep her from dwelling on another lord.
Chapter 12
It was due to luck that Nora had gotten some work done in the morning, for Lady Whitford and Jeremy arrived that afternoon and the household was at sixes and sevens, as the viscount’s servants got her settled. Nora was able to pull Nellie aside for a moment and mention the viscount’s suggestion. The housekeeper smiled and said they could meet at the attic stairs when Lady Lavinia was taking her nap, and she was sure there would be suitable habits in one of the trunks.
And there were. Although both were outmoded, she and Nellie found two broadcloth habits, quite simple, with none of the frogs and epaulets of the modern style. The dark blue could be altered for Miranda, and the black fitted Nora almost as though it had been made for her. Nellie was sure that they could be aired and pressed and altered by the next afternoon.
Dinner that evening was a bit strained, since Lavinia was tired and therefore at her most annoying. She could not ignore their guests, but she certainly kept them ill-at-ease, with her complaints about the long journey for such a short visit, and her reminders that she and Jeremy would need to unsettle themselves again when they returned home. The fact that Alverstone was only ten miles away and that they would have been making a journey from London anyway was one that Sam wished to point out, but decided, from long experience, that it was easier to let Lavinia get all her irritation out, no matter how unpleasant. After dinner, he suggested a few hands of whist, not wanting to burden the Dillons with Lavinia the first evening. He volunteered to watch, but Nora immediately said, “I am a very frustrating partner, as Miranda will attest, my lord. I tend to get distracted and start throwing away my trumps rather recklessly.”
“I must warn you that she is not merely being polite.”
Miranda grinned. “I would be happy to have you as a player, my lord.”
“All right, for this time, but I must insist that you play on another occasion, Mrs. Dillon.”
“You will regret it, but I promise. And now, if you will just point out the way to the library, I will, with your permission, find a book for this evening.”
The viscount escorted Nora, and lit the candles in the library himself. She was delighted with his overflowing shelves and assured him that she would be happy for hours, so he returned to the card room. Miranda was no woolgatherer like her mother, and he and she were soon joking together like old friends as they proceeded to win one rubber after another.
“That is enough,” protested Jeremy after an hour and a half. “We yield, don’t we, Mother?”
“I am too tired to attempt a comeback,” replied Lavinia, in a far more relaxed tone than anyone had heard from her all day. “I think that I am off to bed.” She excused herself, and the viscount looked at Jeremy and Miranda, who looked not tired at all. Ah, youth, he groaned to himself.
“I am going to see if your mother was able to find something in the library. And then, I think, it is time for us all to retire, for I understand you have a riding lesson, young lady?”
Miranda smiled in anticipation, and Jeremy waited impatiently for Sam to leave so he could pull Miranda down on the sofa with him. They were drawn immediately into an almost involuntary embrace. Miranda pulled back first. “The viscount will be returning, Jeremy.”
“I know,” he groaned. “I was so looking forward to these two weeks, but now I realize we will be able to snatch only a few moments alone together.”
“Perhaps that is all to the good,” Miranda said, blushing a little.
“You are probably right, but I cannot wait until we are officially engaged.”
“Are you certain, Jeremy?” Miranda asked seriously.
“About what?” he asked, surprised at her tone.
“About an official betrothal. If this is what is described as a small estate, I shudder to think what Alverstone must be. Neither mother nor I am used to any of this: servants, housekeepers, libraries, and stables and…” Miranda waved her hand in an arc to sum up all the rest. “How can I become a countess and run a household larger than this? It quite terrifies me.”
�
��I would be there to help and support you, and once you become a bit used to it, you will make a wonderful countess. I truly have no doubts at all, Miranda.”
“Then I will try to ignore mine.”
* * * *
When Sam arrived at the library, he expected to find Mrs. Dillon engrossed in a novel, or perhaps already gone up to her room. What he had not anticipated was that he would come upon her curled up in the corner of the leather sofa, sound asleep, her book in her lap. She looked very young, he thought, relaxed and vulnerable, and he was tempted to lift her and carry her up to bed, as he might have done with Miranda. She must have dozed off just before he came in, for she stirred as if she felt his eyes on her, and opened hers, which were glazed with fatigue.
“Oh, dear, did I fall asleep?”
“Whatever book you chose must not have been too stimulating.” Sam smiled down at her, and she immediately became conscious that her feet were tucked under her, her dress rucked up, and her hair, no doubt, all over the place. She sat up, and put her stockinged feet on the floor, searching with her toes for her slippers, and smoothing her dress.
“No, no, it was not the book, but the hour. I keep quite early hours at home, my lord, and am used to reading myself to sleep in bed. I must have done just that here. I apologize.”
“No need, Mrs. Dillon,” said Sam, offering his hand, “but we should get back, for I have left Miranda and Jeremy alone for a few moments, and although we can be rather informal in the country, I would not want the servants gossiping.”
“Of course not.” Nora could not find her left slipper, however, and in her embarrassed rumblings, had sent it under the couch. Now she could not reach it.
