Startled, Elizabeth turned toward the open doorway where Mary stood, a smile of relief brightening her face. Larkman waited just behind her, while the second footman rushed out to help Elizabeth descend from the curricle.
“My dear, dear girl,” the dowager marchioness cried, rushing out to throw her arms around Elizabeth. “I am so relieved that you are unhurt.”
“May I, too, be allowed to express my pleasure at having you safely home, my lady?” a smiling Larkman asked, his eyes a bit misty.
Even the second footman had stepped out of his prescribed role and was beaming at her.
Receiving a welcome akin to that of a hero returning from the wars did little for Elizabeth’s composure. But she was touched for all that and found she could not object when Mary paused in the entrance hall and requested that Larkman order a fortifying pot of tea and some of Mrs. Blanchard’s iced cakes to be brought to them in the drawing room.
“Won’t you join us, Jeremy?” the dowager asked, greeting her son’s entrance into the house with an admiring smile. “I want to hear all about how you rescued our dearest Elizabeth.”
“There’s little to tell, ma’am,” Kenrick responded shortly. “No doubt my wife will be happy to supply you with the details. If you will excuse me, I wish to—”
“But Jeremy,” Mary interrupted. “Please do not go yet. There is something I need to talk with you about, dear, and I rarely see you these days. I had hoped to catch you this morning, but you had already left the house when I came down.”
Looking a bit abashed, Kenrick turned to follow his mother into the drawing room. He had been aware that in avoiding his wife, he was also spending less time with his mother, but he had not supposed she missed him. Apparently he had been mistaken.
“Please accept my apologies for having neglected you, ma’am,” he said, affecting his most charming smile after joining his mother on the settee. “May I be of service to you in some way?”
Mary returned Kenrick’s smile and reached to pat him upon the knee. “Yes, dear, you may. I want you to accompany me and Elizabeth to Oak Groves for a few weeks.”
“What?” the marquess and Elizabeth exclaimed in one voice, their tones respectively amazed and horrified.
Mary raised her eyebrows. “The two of you are behaving as though I have just suggested a trip to the wilds of America,” she complained, her expression decidedly disgruntled. “In case neither of you has noticed, the city is growing uncomfortably warm these days, in addition to being rather thin of company. Too, I have not visited Oak Groves since you were a baby, Jeremy, and I very much wish to see what changes have taken place there in the intervening years.”
“But I can’t go, Mary,” Elizabeth objected in a strangled tone. “You must go without me.” She was recalling her mother’s words on the day the countess had informed Elizabeth of her upcoming nuptials. “The marquess will wish to entertain at his principal seat occasionally,” the countess had said, “and would not want to be embarrassed by your presence.” And only two days later, on their wedding day, the marquess himself had ordered his bride never to visit any of his estates.
Another reason for her reticence, Elizabeth admitted to herself, was her reluctance to foist herself on her husband. That she must always fall short of his desire for perfection was indisputable, and she didn’t want to be constantly reminding him of her deficiencies, as would be the case if the two of them were forced into more frequent associations at Oak Groves.
But the most compelling reason of all for her reluctance was the fact that, despite knowing her husband would only find displeasure in her company, she continued to find pleasure in his. The very sight of his face earlier at Spitalfields Market had been enough to set her silly heart to fluttering. And, despite his almost tangible disgust with her as they sat side by side in his curricle returning to Kenrick House, she had been uncomfortably aware of him as an attractive man while he had obviously been thinking of her as an irritating responsibility.
“But why can you not go, Elizabeth?” Mary asked, her forehead furrowing.
Elizabeth bit her lip. Kenrick was also staring at her as though he, too, was anxiously waiting to hear her reason. Seconds dragged by while she scrambled for a credible excuse to stay in London. At last she said, on a gasp of relief, “Billy!”
“Billy?” Mary repeated, her frown deepening.
“Yes. I can’t leave Billy at this time. Not with the poor little fellow ill.”
“That’s easily remedied,” Kenrick said. If Elizabeth had not known better, she would have thought she detected relief in his expression. “We can take Billy with us.”
“What a wonderful idea,” the dowager seconded. “The air in the country will be much more healthful for the lad than this stifling city heat.”
“But he can’t be moved so soon,” Elizabeth objected.
“Again, that’s no problem,” Kenrick responded. “The doctor said Billy should be on the mend in less than a week, and it will take at least that long to complete preparations for the move. First, I must notify the housekeeper at Oak Groves of our plans, because, if I know Mrs. Sanders, she will insist on giving the house a thorough cleaning in honor of mother’s return.” He turned to his mother with a smile. “Mrs. Sanders asks about you each time I visit Oak Groves, and she will be delighted to see you again.”
“I’ll be pleased to see her, too,” Mary responded. “She was very kind to me when I resided at Oak Groves.”
“Furthermore,” Kenrick continued, “I suspect you ladies will need four or five days to effect last-minute purchases and oversee your packing. By that time Billy should be much improved.”
“Jeremy is correct you know, my dear Elizabeth,” Mary said. “By the time we get ready to leave, Billy will be well enough to travel. And, I assure you, the remainder of his recovery will move ahead much more quickly in the country.”
“Very well,” Elizabeth said. Capitulation was the only course open to her unless she wished to severely disappoint her mother-in-law. Forcing a smile for Mary’s sake, she stood. “I’ll just go share the good news with Billy.” She almost ran from the room in her haste to get away before either her husband or her mother-in-law could judge just how little she felt like smiling. After all, she could hardly explain that her reluctance to go to Oak Groves was now centered around protecting a dear, flawed little boy from daily contact with a man who hated imperfection.
* * *
After his mother excused herself to begin preparations for their trip to Oak Groves, Kenrick poured himself a glass of brandy and then wandered over to a window looking out on the garden. He realized that Elizabeth had been less than eager to visit Oak Groves, but he was less sure about her reasons. Billy, he was certain, was only one of her concerns. The others he could only speculate about. Perhaps she simply dreaded the prospect of being forced into closer proximity with him. On the other hand, perhaps she did not wish to be parted from Gerald.
Kenrick was aware that Gerald and Elizabeth had been riding together in the park the last few mornings, a situation that caused him considerable concern. That Gerald had a selfish motive for befriending Elizabeth was certain, but what that motive was Kenrick could not guess. He did not think Gerald was trying to fix Elizabeth’s interest, for there could be no monetary gain in that, but he admitted to himself that he would feel much more at ease with Elizabeth residing at Oak Groves for a few weeks. He must remember to warn his mother against inviting Gerald to join them.
Sighing, he turned from his unrewarding deliberations and helped himself to another glass of brandy. Slumping down into a large, wing-backed chair, he sat there pondering his reasons for becoming so excessively angry with Elizabeth that morning. Although her actions had been ill-advised, they had also been unselfish.
Slowly sipping his brandy, Kenrick spent the next half hour reflecting on his wife and on his own reactions to her. Although Elizabeth appeared to possess several admirable qualities, he still feared her behavior was no less than a c
lever facade. After all, he had learned to his sorrow how easily a woman could pretend to sentiments she did not feel. He once would have sworn that Paulina loved him above anything on earth until she had so callously disabused him of that particular notion.
Although, on a rational level, he understood that Elizabeth was not Paulina and thus was not guilty of Paulina’s sins, on an emotional level he was less sanguine. Certainly the possibility existed that Elizabeth had helped her parents dupe him. If that were true, he could never trust her in any aspect of their lives together.
His glass was empty. Wearily, Kenrick pushed himself to his feet and ambled over to the sideboard for a refill. He generally stopped after two glasses, but today he was feeling unusually melancholy. Walking a bit painstakingly, he made his way back to his armchair.
The devil was in it, but he really wanted to trust Elizabeth, he admitted to himself with a despondent sigh. He took another sip of brandy, noting with detached interest that his lips were becoming numb. Yes, he really, really wanted to trust Elizabeth. But was any woman trustworthy? Most especially, was a woman who was not above suspicion trustworthy? And did that last question even make any sense? Suddenly feeling too fatigued to continue holding his glass, Kenrick placed it carefully on the floor beside him before allowing his head to collapse against the high chair back.
When Larkman stepped into the drawing room a few hours later to close the curtains, he almost collided with his lordship, who was stumbling toward the hallway, rubbing the back of his neck and cursing softly beneath his breath.
* * *
“I think you’ll be pleased with Oak Groves,” Mary told Elizabeth as their coach pulled away from the front of Kenrick House some six days later.
“I beg your pardon? Oh! Yes, I am sure I’ll be pleased,” Elizabeth responded, an abstracted frown on her face. “Mary, do you think Billy will be comfortable in the other carriage?”
“Of course he will be comfortable, dear. That coach is very well sprung, you know, and it is so large that Billy can lie down if he wishes. That is why Jeremy insisted upon having it brought up from Oak Groves.”
“But did you not think he looked a little apprehensive?” Elizabeth asked, still frowning.
Mary reached to pat Elizabeth on the arm. “Please stop worrying about Billy, my dear. He’ll be fine. After all, Betsie is with him, and she’s done an excellent job of looking after him this past week. I’m certain she’ll continue doing so today. Besides, he has Apollo to help entertain him.”
“I sincerely hope Apollo will not scratch his scabs.”
“Oh? Does Apollo have scabs too?”
Momentarily confused, Elizabeth glanced into Mary’s twinkling eyes and realized she was being teased. Grinning ruefully, she apologized. “I am sorry, Mary. I know I’m behaving like a widgeon, but I can’t seem to help myself.”
“Of course you cannot, my dear. You are obviously very distraught about this visit to Oak Groves, although I do not understand why.”
“Mary?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Did Jeremy enjoy playing with toy soldiers when he was a boy?”
If the dowager found the abrupt change of subject a bit peculiar, she gave no indication. “Now that you mention it, yes. He and Gerald once spend many hours engaged in endless battles with those battered little soldiers.”
“What became of them?” Elizabeth asked. Only when her nails began cutting into the palms of her hands did she realize how tightly she was clenching her fists while awaiting Mary’s response.
“They disappeared one summer. When I asked Jeremy what had become of them, he said he had taken them with him on a visit to Kenrick House and had forgotten to bring them home with him. That did not surprise me, especially. On the rare occasions when Jeremy’s father demanded he come to London for a visit, my husband would shower Jeremy with gifts. Once I recall that Jeremy’s father gave him a hoop. Jeremy was absolutely thrilled when he returned to Aston Arbor with his new toy. He spent hours playing with it until one of the boys—I cannot recall now whether it was Jeremy or Gerald—accidentally rolled it into the lake. I thought Jeremy would be heartbroken about its loss, but he merely shrugged. He was a strange boy at times.”
“I see,” Elizabeth said, her expression bleak. “Mary, is there a schoolroom at Oak Groves where Billy can be housed that is a bit out of the way? I don’t want him getting underfoot.”
“Of course, dear. As I recall, there is a very pleasant room that is quite removed from the family’s quarters. But are you sure that is what you want for Billy?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “That will be perfect.”
The name “Oak Groves” was so lacking in elegance that Elizabeth had somehow assumed the estate would also be rather unpretentious. She had envisioned a relatively small house, only a bit bigger than Cramdon Cottage, surrounded by towering oaks with picturesque paths wending their way amongst the venerable trees.
A grove of elms surrounded the estate’s gatehouse, Elizabeth noted when their coach turned off the main road late that afternoon. However, the wooded area was soon replaced by well-trimmed shrubbery as the coach followed a smooth drive that curved gently through the magnificent grounds. When the coachman finally pulled to a stop in front of the family residence, Elizabeth gasped with amazement and some apprehension.
A guidebook, she was convinced, would have described the house itself as a castle. A monstrous pile, complete with turrets, sprawled before her, its aged stone facade mellowed by the late-day light. Glancing out the opposite window, she observed a park stretching in manicured splendor down to a sparkling lake where several white swans swam slowly and regally, reminding Elizabeth of pearls floating on a bed of blue satin.
“Good heavens,” Elizabeth said, staring about her, astonishment clear in her widened eyes.
“Yes, it is impressive,” Mary said. “I recall feeling rather intimidated by all of this when I was first brought to Oak Groves as a new bride.”
“But why is it called Oak Groves?” Elizabeth asked. “There is neither an oak nor a grove anywhere in view.”
“The name goes back to Tudor times, I believe, when no doubt there were plenty of both. Ah, there is Drowell, the butler, coming out to welcome us. And that must be Mrs. Sanders right behind him. She has aged well, I must say.”
Within seconds, a footman was handing Elizabeth out of the coach. She paused to look up at the impressive height of the walls towering before her. She could not but reflect that, were her marriage a conventional one, she would be considered mistress of this house. As it was, she felt like an interloper.
“Welcome to Oak Groves.”
Elizabeth started visibly. She had not been aware that Jeremy had already dismounted and moved to her side.
“You will be tired from the journey,” he continued. “I will see to Billy. Mrs. Sanders has had a room prepared for him in the servants’ quarters, and Betsie will be housed nearby should he have need of her.”
“But I had thought that the s-s-schoolroom—” Elizabeth began, faltering to a stop when her husband frowned at her.
“You may not be aware that the schoolroom is very distant from the wings that are in use by the family,” he said. “Surely you would not want Billy so isolated from other people. I cannot feel he would be happy under those circumstances.”
“I suppose not,” Elizabeth agreed reluctantly. “But I do not want him to be underfoot.”
“You need not worry about that. This pile is so huge, one little boy could not possibly get underfoot. Now, if you will excuse me, I will fetch the child. You will be anxious to see how he endured the journey.” Turning on his heel, Kenrick hurried to open the door of the second coach.
Elizabeth watched anxiously, dreading the expression of disdain that would surely follow her husband’s first sight of Billy since the lad had broken out so badly with the chicken pox. Never handsome, Billy’s freckled face was now rendered even less appealing by the addition of unsightly scabs and red sp
lotches. Elizabeth clasped her hands together, silently praying that Billy would not note the revulsion she felt certain must be reflected in her husband’s eyes.
If Kenrick experienced the emotions Elizabeth had been expecting from him, he hid them well. He strode briskly to the coach, reached inside to pick Billy up, and, smiling, carried him to Elizabeth’s side before gently placing him on his feet.
“There now, young man,” Kenrick said jovially. “You are in the country. What do you think of it?”
Wide-eyed and gaping, Billy spent the next several seconds staring at the massive park around him. When he at last looked up at the marquess, a broad and happy grin was brightening his unsightly little face.
Kenrick threw back his head and laughed heartily. “A man after my own heart,” he said, reaching down to tousle Billy’s hair. “I expect you will want to explore the grounds tomorrow, and Mrs. Sanders tells me she has a grandson just your age who will be happy to serve as your guide. In the meanwhile, you had best rest for a bit. If you and Betsie will follow Arthur, he will show you to your quarters.”
After a quick glance toward Elizabeth, who smiled and nodded her head, Billy happily grasped Betsie’s hand and followed as the second footman led them into the house.
Mary, who had been waiting patiently to claim Elizabeth’s attention, placed a hand on her arm and quickly introduced her to Mrs. Sanders, a plumb, gray-haired lady whose cheery expression reinforced her words of welcome. Then it was time to move into the massive entrance hall where Drowell awaited any orders the ladies might have. Since both expressed their desire to freshen up before tea, Mrs. Sanders was soon escorting them down seemingly endless corridors to their respective bedchambers.
Elizabeth hoped she had said and done all that was proper. She assumed she must have done so, for neither Mary nor Mrs. Sanders appeared upset or displeased with her when they left her alone in her bedchamber to rest a few minutes. Neither seemed aware that Elizabeth had not been attending either to them or to her surroundings. She was too stunned by Kenrick’s behavior toward Billy. That her husband had been both accepting of and kind to Billy was irrefutable. How had he carried off such a pretense? Obviously Kenrick was a much better actor than she had previously realized.
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