I shut the door behind me with enough force that the men would heed my wishes, I hoped. I had barely managed a glimpse of the bookcases, but I had to admit that Mr. Bancroft was correct in his original description, the library looked positively glorious and I could not wait to return the following morning for a thorough evaluation.
“What are you doing out here?”
I jumped at Lord Stallsbury’s voice. Though, gratefully, I didn’t squeal. Squinting my eyes, I could barely make out his outline in the opposite doorway. He had been so sly that I hadn’t even noticed the door open.
“I went into the library for a book,” I whispered. “And discovered Mr. Bancroft and Thornton inside.”
He looked as serious as he sounded. “You must return to your room at once.”
Irritation made its unpleasant way through me. “That is what I intended to do, my lord.”
He nodded, his shadowed face an image of tight aggravation. “Very good. Goodnight then.”
I turned away without responding. Climbing the stairs, I felt very much the fool. Lord Stallsbury stood in the hallway and watched me go, and I caught his gaze over my shoulder just before I moved out of sight. Perhaps that was the end of our midnight chats.
I would have to find a way to be satisfied with that.
Chapter 14
Mrs. Bancroft stood in the hallway leading into the breakfast room as though waiting for something. Or, perhaps it was someone.
I watched her as I descended the staircase. Her eyes hardened as they fell upon me and I smiled. “Good morning, Mrs. Bancroft.”
“Would you be so kind as to accompany me to the drawing room for a spell?” she said, her words short and crisp like tin soldiers. “I would like to discuss something with you.”
Unease at once filled my person and I nodded, following her to the drawing room. She closed the door behind me with a soft click and spun to face me, her hands clasped tightly.
“You will be seated.”
I obeyed.
“Now, we shall not beat about the bush,” she said, seating herself opposite me. “You know that my son invited you here because he was considering you for his wife.”
Was? I nodded, though I felt faintly positive she did not require a response.
“And I am sure you are aware that I was never fond of the match to begin with.”
Where could she possibly be going with this?
She continued, “While I will not pretend that my mind is changed, I see that William has the ability to decide for himself who he will marry. That being said, whomever he takes to wife will have to reside in Bancroft Hill with me, and I can pleasantly say I am healthy and robust, and I shall not be going anywhere anytime soon. You may choose to go against my wishes and marry my son, but I will have you know that regardless of what you do or say I will never support your union and I will do everything in my power to make your existence here at Bancroft Hill an unpleasurable one. It is my duty to protect my family, and I do not want my son marrying into such disgrace.”
She stood to go, her words delivered and wrapping me in an uncomfortable haze. Disgrace? What did she know about me?
Turning at the door, she speared me with a glare. “Do not repeat this to a soul, or I shall be happy to tell the party that your drunk of a brother is at fault for not only his own poor existence, but your parents’ deaths, as well.”
I felt as though the carpet was ripped from beneath me. “That is untrue.”
Her eyebrow lifted. “Ask him, then, if you do not believe me. Your brother was driving the carriage during the accident. He said himself that he is lucky to be alive.”
“When have you spoken to him?” I asked, my eyebrows drawn together. “How do you know this?”
Her smug lips turned sour. “It is true, and if you do not refuse my son then the whole of London Society shall be reminded of it. Do not tempt me, child, for I should not mind ruining you.”
She spun away, the derision dripping from her tone spearing me like a hundred tiny barbs.
The door snapped closed behind her, causing me to flinch. She could not have meant that, surely. Noah suffered from a dependence on drink, but that had nothing to do with the death of my parents. He could not have been driving, for he was not even with them at the time.
No one would believe her lies, would they?
My appetite gone, I sat on the sofa staring mindlessly out the bright window. The sun shone with nary a cloud to be seen across the blue sky. The recent rain and bright light made the grass brighter. It was an inviting scene when faced with the stuffy drawing room and the lingering effects of Mrs. Bancroft’s verbal assault.
Mrs. Haley let herself into the drawing room and pulled up short. “Mrs. Wheeler, I was unaware that you were in here. The men have gone fishing so Miss Pollard and I were getting up a group to walk to the wood. Would you like to accompany us?”
I watched her kind, rounded eyes and found them void of malice. While her mother clearly did not care for my presence, I didn’t think Mrs. Haley shared the same ill feelings. I stood, nodding. I would not tuck tail and run home so easily. Not before I had time to consider my options. “I would love to come. Allow me to fetch my bonnet first.”
“Of course.”
I made my way upstairs, Mrs. Bancroft’s threats repeating over and over again in my mind. She might not have any say on who her son chose to marry, but she had a lot of say on whether I could lead a happy existence in this home. I glanced about me, imagining myself as the mistress of Bancroft Hill.
While I knew myself capable of running a large house, I didn’t quite know how I felt about attempting to do so while the previous mistress stood by and sabotaged my every move. Even if I had Mr. Bancroft’s sole support, would it be worth it?
I hardly knew. But Charlotte’s letter sat in my trunk reminding me of my reasons for being here. The house party was not over yet and I had plenty of time to reach a decision. Nothing needed to be settled today.
* * *
“Mother has had the most bizarre notion to hold a large dinner party in a few days’ time,” Mrs. Haley said as we crossed the lawn. Miss Thornton and Miss Pollard walked beside us and I was proud of myself for not stumbling on the pronouncement. I could not fathom how a dinner party might be connected to Mrs. Bancroft’s threat, but something within me felt strongly that it was, and I was not eager to discover how.
“Will she be able to fill her table with such little notice?” Miss Thornton asked, her tone disbelieving.
“Certainly,” Mrs. Haley replied at once. “You must realize that we are the largest house in the parish. Mother never struggles to fill her table.”
“With quality, though?” Miss Thornton argued.
Mrs. Haley paused, looking a little piqued. “Yes, of course.”
“Tell me about London, Miss Thornton,” I said, hoping to encourage her to speak about herself, thus relieving Mrs. Haley. “I have not been in years.”
“I’ve only just completed a Season and it was just as enjoyable as always,” she said. “The endless balls and parties are an absolute dream, of course.”
Miss Pollard sighed. “How glorious. I cannot wait until I may experience the London Season. I’ve been to London, but never the ton parties. I am afraid my father will never take me, so I must rely on a husband. Though, perhaps it is best to find a husband during the Season, isn’t it?”
I had only seen Mr. Pollard awake a handful of times, and most of those were during mealtimes. I could see how the idea of the Season might put him off.
“You will likely enjoy it more after you wed,” Mrs. Haley said. “I surely did once the pressure to marry was relieved.”
Nodding sagely, Miss Thornton added, “It’s true. It is not for the weak of heart. You must be voracious if you plan to snag a husband. The good ones are always taken quickly.”
“I had thought at one point that I wouldn’t need to put any effort into obtaining a husband,” Miss Pollard lamented. “But of course, tha
t is no longer the case.”
All three of the women’s heads swiveled my direction and I felt my cheeks warm.
Miss Pollard seemed to realize her mistake and blushed accordingly. At least I could reasonably claim that I did not intend on stealing the man she had her eye on, for I had not even known of her existence before arriving at Bancroft Hill. And in my defense, he did not seem the least interested in her.
Miss Thornton, of course, was a different story altogether. Frank had told me of his fleeting affection for her in his youth. He also had explained that he was long past the infatuation and I needn’t fear any lingering feelings. Miss Thornton, on the other hand, seemed to still harbor feelings aplenty. Though my marriage had occurred three and a half years ago, Miss Thornton did not seem the least inclined to forgive or forget.
Some people, it seemed, never were.
“My brother has always cared for you as something of a sister,” Mrs. Haley said to Miss Pollard. “He has always looked after you, of course. He is such a generous man.”
I did my best to mask my surprise. Mrs. Haley’s diplomatic response was an explanation I’d yet to hear. Though I had to admit, it is precisely what I had assumed to be the case.
We approached the edge of the wood. The servants had come ahead of us and set a table under the shade with an array of picnic items. Cold meats, cheese and fruit were all spread on a tray with cool lemonade prepared in cups.
I had to smile to myself. Hadn’t Mr. Bancroft mentioned that the only way to entice his sister on a walk was to place a picnic at the end of it? She helped herself to a chair immediately and sipped at her lemonade.
“My, but this sun has surely wiped the energy right out of me,” she said, sighing. “I’m utterly exhausted.”
“How thoughtful of you to request a picnic,” Miss Pollard said. “I vow, you think of everything.”
“One must when one’s husband hopes to become a member of parliament,” Mrs. Haley said over the rim of her glass of lemonade. “It is just as much up to me as it is to him to provide the proper social connections.”
Miss Pollard sighed. “How lovely to be so needed.”
I sat in the shade, glancing out over the lawn and the majestic house. The pond to the far side completed the picturesque view and the men fishing on the opposite bank added a nice touch.
“Do the ducks always stay right near the pond?” Miss Pollard asked, her voice rising in pitch.
I bit my tongue to keep from laughing. A particularly large duck had waddled from the water and some distance up the bank. It was as if the little fowl knew of Miss Pollard’s fear and chose to set her on edge with his slow progression toward us.
Mrs. Haley’s eyebrows scrunched together over the rim of her teacup as she took a sip. “Usually, yes, but that one seems adventurous today.”
The resulting giggle Miss Pollard delivered was shrill and nervous. I could not blame her, for the duck slowly continued toward us. We watched it meander for some time before it had the grace to turn away and put more distance between us.
“Mrs. Wheeler,” Miss Thornton said, her lips curved into a catlike grin, “you are quiet today. Is there something plaguing your mind?”
Aside from the curse that had followed me since London, a drunk brother, a sister in need of care, a potential mother-in-law who despised me, and a life-altering decision to make over the course of the next week? No, nothing at all.
I tried to mimic her smile as best I could. “Everything is positively ordinary.”
“Indeed.”
We all raised our glasses in accord and sipped the bitter liquid.
Chapter 15
“Meet me tonight?”
I jumped back against the wall. Lord Stallsbury had stepped from behind the staircase suddenly and my hand flew up to calm my beating heart. “My lord, you frightened me something fierce. You really must quit doing that.”
His eyes beseeched me.
“I cannot make any promises,” I whispered. “The last time we were nearly caught.”
He stepped closer. “But I find myself in a dilemma and I would appreciate your advice.”
I could not help but stand a little straighter following that pronouncement. “Then can we not do something more respectable to earn us a bit of privacy? We could ride,” I offered, “or take a stroll about the gardens?”
“It is not the same and you well know it.”
I did know it, in fact. But I found that I liked knowing that he shared the feeling very much. The midnight meetings had an aura of danger to them; they were forbidden, yet I felt that we were untouchable. It was an hour between the day and the night that we could discuss whatever we wished without fear of recourse or retribution.
Unless we were caught, of course. In which we would have no choice but to marry or be ruined.
I swallowed. My family could not possibly weather any more scandal. “I just do not see how it can be done.”
“Leave the men to me,” he implored. He’d yet to so much as smile and the determination in his eyes was unnerving. “But promise me you’ll come.”
Caught in his gaze, earnest and unrelenting, I agreed. His returning smile was wide, causing me to miss a step and stumble forward. I righted myself and continued down the hallway, pretending as though I hadn’t just nearly tripped in the presence of a marquess.
His chuckle reached me nonetheless and I could not hide my grin as I let myself into the drawing room.
“There you are, Mrs. Wheeler. What think you of having that tour of the house now?” Mr. Bancroft asked, watching me expectantly. Did he truly think a tour would be useful now? I had been in his home as a guest for over a week and knew the house quite well. I had yet to explore the library or the ballroom, and I was sure there were a handful of other rooms I was unaware of, but I could see the man’s eagerness to spend time with me and understood that it was a necessary aspect of courting.
With less than a fortnight remaining, I had little time to secure my position within the home if that was still the desired outcome.
I glanced beyond him and found his mother’s shrewd gaze locked on me. Swallowing, I nodded slowly. I could not give in to her ridiculous demands. “I should love that, Mr. Bancroft.”
“Would anyone else care to join us?”
Miss Pollard stood. An odd choice for a chaperone, but I supposed she was better than none. “I would love to. I haven’t explored the house in an age. Mr. Peterson, Mr. Thornton? Have you both seen the house?”
They watched her as if they were deer staring into a rifle. Mr. Peterson finally stood, sacrificing himself for the greater good. “I should love to accompany you, Miss Pollard.”
We set out, my hand upon Mr. Bancroft’s arm as he led us down a hallway I knew well—while I was in the dark, at least. Now the sunlight lit the space and transformed it into a completely different place.
“That door leads to my study,” Mr. Bancroft explained, “though I’m never in there much. Positively boring room if you ask me. My father spent a good deal of time in there but I don’t find myself in need of it often.”
We turned for the library, and I was at once awed by the exquisite bookcases built into three of the four walls, the fourth was covered almost entirely in windows. A prime source of light, indeed. Clearly whoever designed this room had a penchant for reading and an understanding of the basic necessities. A good book, comfortable chair, and enough light to see; all of which could be found in abundance in this room.
“It is glorious,” I said reverently.
“Indeed,” Miss Pollard said, “if you enjoy reading.”
“Our Mrs. Wheeler has already admitted to a love for reading,” Lord Stallsbury said. I turned to find him framed by the doorway, his knowing smile touching me briefly before turning his attention to our host. “Bancroft, may I borrow a mare to take Miss Thornton for a ride?”
“Absolutely,” he replied immediately. “My horses are at your disposal. In fact, that is a grand concept. Shall we pos
tpone this tour for another day?”
“I do not think Lord Stallsbury would appreciate us encroaching upon his time,” I said, doing my utmost to sound diplomatic.
Mr. Bancroft nodded, a knowing gleam in his eye. “Ahh, yes.”
Lord Stallsbury nodded once and left.
“Perhaps we may plan a ride for tomorrow,” Miss Pollard offered. “I should enjoy it very much.”
“Perhaps. Would you like to see the ballroom?” Mr. Bancroft asked me.
I tried to deliver a grin worthy of his enthusiasm. “Yes, please.”
He led us to the ballroom and opened the door with a flourish. We spread out about the room. A dusty chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting its shadow over floorboards worn from years of country dances.
“Shall we test it?” Mr. Peterson asked. He came before me and bowed as though I was a duchess. “A dance, if you please?”
I could not help but chuckle. Dipping into an equally low curtsy, I placed my hand in his. I noticed Mr. Bancroft and Miss Pollard join us on the opposite side of the room and I began to hum a waltz. We promenaded about the room and began the dance. It was a little simpler with only two couples but we managed well enough, making our own adjustments when necessary.
“I believe this room is quite prepared for dancers,” Mr. Peterson said, bowing. “And what superb music, Mrs. Wheeler.”
“My humming?” I laughed. “You are quite easy to please.”
He delivered a rakish grin. “Never say that I didn’t pay you compliments, ma’am.”
“Of course not,” I agreed. “You merely intersperse them between liberal reminders of my curse.”
He boomed with laughter, and Mr. Bancroft did not look pleased.
“Shall we continue with our tour?” Miss Pollard asked sweetly. She grasped Mr. Peterson’s arm, grinning at me as they passed us. Mr. Bancroft looked bothered; I tried to smile my reassurance but he seemed disinclined to accept it.
“Must you flirt with him like that?” he whispered.
Love At The House Party (Women 0f Worth Book 3) Page 10
