The Great Estate

by Sherri Browning

  “We’ve met, yes. And you’re right. Your brother’s wife is a lovely woman. A pity he met her first. I understand she was in residence at Thornbrook Park for some time as a lonely widow. If only I’d come along sooner.”

  “It wasn’t all that long before Marcus became aware of Eve, I assure you.” Gabriel still regretted any action he had taken to keep the pair apart. They were perfectly suited for each other. Eve brought out the best in Marcus.

  “I would only be surprised if any man failed to be aware of her. She’s…everything a man could want,” Mr. Grant said.

  “Some men. Petite, curvy blonds hold a certain appeal, I suppose. But I’ve always been more attracted to a certain willowy, raven-haired woman.” Gabriel laughed. He had hated to leave that woman, her raven hair spread across the pillow. Before he left, he’d kissed her cheek and informed her that he was going to London, but she’d offered no indication that she’d heard him. “So you harbor an attraction to my brother’s wife? Hide it well. My brother wouldn’t hesitate to kill any man who so much as looked at her in a suspicious way.”

  “I’ve heard that he was once a prizefighter.”

  “And a damn good one at that.” Gabriel had never seen his brother fight in the ring, but he’d heard stories. And he’d felt the sting of Marcus’s left hook firsthand. “He could lay you flat before you even knew what was coming.”

  “Thank you for the warning. I’ll be sure to stay on my guard.” Grant held up his hands. “I would never consider making advances on another man’s wife, of course.”

  “Of course.” Gabriel smiled. He could tell by the glint in Grant’s gray eyes that the man was thinking of what he’d heard from Alistair Morris about Sophia in Lord Ralston’s arms.

  What if Morris had reason for concern? Sophia had nearly been unfaithful in the past. She’d kissed another man. What would it take for her to turn to someone else should she doubt his love? Gabriel would just have to make sure there was no reason for her to ever question his unbridled passion for her again.

  * * *

  After a long-winded apology from Mrs. Mallows and more information on Chinese medicine than she’d ever wanted to know, Sophia finally had gotten to eat a hearty meal of lamb stew. The others had been served duck, a special request from the Dowager Countess, and Mrs. Mallows had wanted to bring Sophia some too. But she had asked what the servants were eating downstairs and surprised Mrs. Mallows with the request for some of that instead. She’d taken a liking to simple, savory fare, the kinds of things the servants ate. Unfortunately, she didn’t get to eat it often, having the responsibility of impressing her guests at formal dinners.

  Once she’d eaten, she’d called Anna in to go over her correspondence. There were letters to be answered, one from Alice in Morocco. When had they moved on from India to Morocco? One from her friend Lizzie in London. Sophia should have thought to visit Lizzie while she was in town, but she’d been there so briefly. The Dovedales kept to different social circles than the Earl of Averford, but such things wouldn’t stop Sophia from paying a call. Not any longer. Perhaps next time Gabriel went on business, she really would go with him. At the bottom of the stack, there was a letter from her mother-in-law, sent while she was still in Italy. That one didn’t require an answer, but at least it provided some proof that Teresa had sent word of her intention to visit. A pity it hadn’t arrived sooner. It would have given Sophia some idea that Gabriel had returned too.

  “It’s a shame your sister won’t be back in time for the garden party,” Anna said at last.

  Sophia looked through the stack of mail. “Garden party? Who’s having a garden party? I must have missed that invitation.”

  “It’s to be our party. The Dowager Countess says she has it all worked out and that she will even buy me a new dress. White. Everyone wears white for her famous garden parties. It’s going to be so exciting! I wonder if Mr. Kenner is any good at cricket?”

  “I can’t imagine he’s ever played in his life. But when does the Dowager Countess plan to hold this garden party? I’ve yet to be consulted.”

  “I’m sure she means to speak with you about it. It was all we talked about at dinner.”

  “You went to dinner? I thought you had a tray sent up.”

  “I didn’t stay long, but I felt lonesome in my room.” Anna shrugged. “You and Lord Averford were right.”

  “Lord Averford? But he’s in London.”

  Anna waved a hand. “When I first arrived, I was excited to have my own room. You warned that having my own room might not be quite what I expected, and then Lord Averford said much the same, that it could be lonely when you’re used to sharing.”

  “I recall.” Sophia reached up to twist her necklace chain around her fingers, then realized she wasn’t wearing one. Had Gabriel missed her in Italy as much as she’d hoped?

  “The Waldens are eager to see a real English garden party,” Anna said, bringing Sophia back to the matter at hand.

  “The Waldens? She means to hold an event while the Waldens are still with us? That only gives her a week. She must have been planning all along. Anna, ring for Mrs. Jenks. I must get ready to go down.” Sophia leaped to her feet.

  “But they’d already moved on to cordials by the time you rang for me. They might be in bed.”

  “It’s not even midnight, much too early for the Dowager Countess to turn in. She likes to keep the party going. I’m sure I can catch her.” And if not her, Mrs. Hoyle. Sophia felt certain that if Teresa had hatched a plan, she’d enlisted her favorite ally. “Why don’t you go down first to see what they’re doing?”

  Anna nodded. “I’ll see you there.”

  Jenks had Sophia looking presentable in less than an hour, and she was on her way. Just outside her room, she practically ran into Jane in the hall.

  “Lady Averford.” Jane seemed surprised to see her. “Are ye well? I’d heard ye were suffering some ill effects from Mrs. Mallows’s elixir. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t help but feel responsible…”

  Sophia waved a hand. “Oh, please don’t. I am feeling much better, and it was an accident after all. Not your fault.”

  “I did deliver it to ye.” Jane’s fair cheeks colored. “I wish I’d known it was so powerful. I wouldn’t have recommended it quite so enthusiastically. And now ye’ve missed your trip to London.”

  “Yes, I did. Lord Averford has gone without me. But how did you know I was to accompany him?” She didn’t recall mentioning it to anyone. She’d never even given her husband a definitive answer.

  “I was bringing another bottle of champagne to the drawing room and I overheard Lord Averford asking ye to go wi’ him. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

  “Some things you can’t help overhearing.” Sophia shrugged. “I understand. I’ll get my chance to go to London another day. As it is, all’s well.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Excuse me, Lady Averford. I’ll be getting back to work.”

  “Yes. I don’t want to get you in trouble with Mrs. Hoyle. Good evening, Jane.”

  As Sophia approached the drawing room, she could still hear Teresa’s voice booming in exclamations. “Capital fun! Let’s have another song…”

  Sophia suspected her mother-in-law of indulging in more than a few of the cordials, and she was reluctant to breeze on in and make a scene. Instead, she went to the study and rang for Mrs. Hoyle and Mr. Finch, in case Hoyle had already gone to bed.

  The pair showed up together to find Sophia seated at the desk. “When were you going to tell me about the garden party? Either one of you might have mentioned it. If we’re to have a party, I believe the woman of the house should be the first to know.”

  Hoyle shook her head. “There will be no party.”

  Sophia quirked a brow. “Oh? I’ve heard differently. Perhaps Mr. Finch can set the matter straight. I’ve warned you, Mrs. Hoyle, that I won’t
take kindly to your working with the Dowager Countess behind my back.”

  “But she’s not,” Finch said, stepping forward. “In fact, it was Mrs. Hoyle who handed me the invitations and instructed me to check with you before putting them in the mail. I was meaning to ask you about it in the morning. I had no idea you were up and about. Forgive me, my lady. The fault was all mine.”

  “Is this true, Mrs. Hoyle?” Sophia was as surprised as she was remorseful to find that Mrs. Hoyle had been on her side after all.

  “As you say, the lady of the house should be the first to know. I wouldn’t allow anyone to hold an engagement at Thornbrook Park without hearing from you first.” Hoyle pursed her lips, clearly a little put out at Sophia’s jumping to conclusions.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Hoyle. Please forgive me for making assumptions. I should never have doubted you.” But of course, they both knew that Sophia had cause to doubt. “Please, go on about your business. But first, Mr. Finch, could you bring me those invitations?”

  Finch bowed and headed out. Hoyle walked off without another word.

  “Thank you, Mr. Finch.” Finch returned with the invitations and left her again. She opened one to see that Teresa intended to have her party within the next two weeks. Such short notice. Why the rush? She supposed she would have to confront Gabriel’s mother and ask.

  Fortunately, the gaiety was winding down as she entered the drawing room. Louise Walden barely stifled a yawn as she rose to greet Sophia.

  “No need to stay later on my account,” she said to the Waldens. “I’m headed to bed myself. I just wanted to take a moment to say hello.”

  “I’m so glad you’re feeling better, Lady Averford,” Louise said.

  “A party’s just not the same without those twinkling blue eyes watching over us all,” Hugh Walden added, eliciting a grimace from Teresa.

  “You have my thanks for keeping the Dowager Countess amused in my absence,” Sophia said.

  “She kept us amused with her delightful songs. Such whimsy! But now I think we need to be getting back. I shouldn’t have had that last claret. Puts me right to sleep.” Louise Walden and her husband said their good-byes. Anna also went off to bed as soon as she could tell that Sophia didn’t need her to stay any longer.

  “At last, we’re alone,” Sophia said, producing the stack of invitations from her pocket. “You’ve been busy in my absence.”

  “My invitations! Why hasn’t Finch mailed them? It’s going to be short notice as it is, but such a grand affair!”

  “There will be no affair. At least, not here in the next two weeks. It’s too soon, Teresa. Why have a hastily arranged party when you can really go all out?”

  Teresa’s mouth gaped. Clearly she’d thought that Sophia was going to deny her the fun of throwing a fete. Instead, Sophia surprised her with the suggestion that they could still have a party, only at a later date.

  “I wasn’t sure you would want anything elaborate.” Teresa regained her power of speech.

  “Why not? Your garden parties were celebrated affairs. People still speak of them. I wouldn’t want you to rush into things and ruin your good reputation. Let’s take our time and plan it together.”

  “You would want to do that? To plan a party with me?”

  “To be honest, you have more experience with these things. I’m sure I could learn a lot from you if you let me help.” Sophia surprised herself with her diplomacy. She’d meant to be antagonistic, but suddenly inspiration struck. Teresa would always be trying to outdo her or overrule Sophia in her own house. Why not let her think they would be working together? Why not flatter the woman a little for a change?

  “I would like that, yes. We have time to do it properly.”

  Sophia nodded. “Say about six weeks? We can redo the invitations.”

  Growing animated, Teresa clapped her hands. “We’ll have carnival games! And cricket for the men. Perhaps an archery contest for the ladies…”

  “I’m too weak to plan now.” Sophia held up her hands. “So tired. But perhaps tomorrow…”

  “Tomorrow, yes! Of course. You poor dear. Get some rest.”

  “And we’ll have to discuss it with Gabriel before sending any invitations out.”

  Teresa nodded. “We’ll have to make sure he’s agreeable to the idea. I’m sure you can be persuasive with him. And how can he say no to his mother?”

  “Good night, Teresa. Until tomorrow.”

  Once back in her room, Sophia found that she wasn’t the slightest bit tired. And no wonder, after sleeping for more than a day. She curled up in her armchair with her worn-out copy of Emma, her second favorite Austen novel. She’d once thought herself to be quite a bit like the heroine, but she didn’t see much resemblance anymore. And Mr. Knightley was no Mr. Darcy. He was a bit too hard on dear Emma. Everyone makes mistakes. Perhaps Sophia had put her biggest mistakes behind her. She was certainly learning to be more agreeable, if her interaction with Teresa was any proof.

  The cool night air streamed in through her open window and disturbed her just as she was getting to the part in which Elton proposes, forcing Emma to realize her mistake in interfering with Harriet Smith’s romantic life.

  “Yes, Emma. You should have seen the danger in it sooner. Alas.” Sophia put down the book to close the window. But as she leaned in, she heard a soft mewling outside.

  Kittens? Had a barn cat recently given birth? Not that she knew of, but there was definitely something making a soft, needy sound on the ground below. It seemed to be coming from near the service entrance at the back of the house, which her window nearly overlooked. The position of her window over the service entrance had been an inconvenience she had learned to enjoy when she realized she could take note of all deliveries coming to the house. More than once, she had intercepted a new parcel of gowns, bonnets, or perfumes before Gabriel could become aware that she’d ordered them.

  The mewling became louder until it was as insistent as a deprived baby’s cry. Perhaps it was Agatha’s Miss Puss? She laughed at the idea. But she stopped laughing when she realized that the mewling did sound like an actual infant’s cry. What was it really?

  Curious, Sophia had to know. It was late enough that the guests were most certainly in bed, and most of the servants should be on the way too. She draped a shawl over her shoulders, put on her slippers, and made her way down. She had to access the service entrance by going through the kitchen and up a short flight of stairs to the door. Mr. Finch remained awake in the storeroom off the kitchen. He came out when he heard her approach.

  “Lady Averford.” His thin mouth opened just the slightest bit to reveal his surprise. “Are you well? Is there something I can do?”

  “I’m sorry to disturb you, Mr. Finch. I didn’t expect you would still be up.”

  “Doing a little inventory, Lady Averford. Nothing of concern, just easier to get it done once most of the others are in bed.” Unlike the rest of the servants’ rooms, Finch’s bedroom was not far from the kitchen, the better to keep track of the silver, she supposed, or to take note of anything amiss in the night. He clearly hadn’t heard the kitten though.

  “There’s a noise outside.”

  “Oh?” His silver caterpillar eyebrows shot up. “What kind of noise?”

  “A kitten, I think. Though it sounds quite a bit like a baby’s cry. I’m going to have a look.”

  “Allow me.” He reached for his coat from the back of a chair near the storeroom door.

  “No, Mr. Finch. I would like to look for myself, if you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind.” The light reflected off the top of his nearly bald head when he shook it. “I can’t just let you go out on your own in the middle of the night. I’ll come with you.”

  “If you insist. Bring a candle. We might need some light.” The mewling became louder, almost a wail. “There it is. Do you hear?”

/>   “I hear it now. It sounds like a baby, as you said.”

  “Odd.” She gestured for Finch to follow her once he lit the wick of the oil lamp. “Do you think it’s a wild animal caught in something?”

  “I’ve no idea what we’ll find, but it does sound distressed.”

  Finch stayed close to her as she went up the stairs and out. The basket was so close to the door that she nearly tripped on it as she stepped away from the door, and the sound was definitely contained within it. Tentatively, she reached out and moved the blanket covering the top.

  “Dear God, it is a baby!” Sophia gasped and immediately bent down to pick it up, the little arms reaching out to her. “Someone has left a baby. Call the constable.”

  Finch held the light aloft and shone it around the yard. “I don’t see anyone. Let me help you get it inside and settled. Then I’ll make the call.”

  Instinctively, she cradled the precious weight to her shoulder, protecting the sweet little head, and bounced as she stepped in an attempt to quiet the crying. It worked. The crying dimmed to a gurgle, then became more of a coo before she even made it inside.

  Fourteen

  “Who could have left you, little one?” Once inside, she held the baby out from her to have a look at it, her heart racing. A baby. An actual baby, right out her window. And such a beautiful baby, perfectly round head, downy covering of pale yellow hair, chubby cheeks. As she was admiring him, or her, the baby smiled at her. “Look, Finch, a smile.”

  But as soon as Finch took a look, the smile fell away, as if it had been only for Sophia. At least there wasn’t any more crying. Big, dark blue eyes looked all around, taking in new surroundings and pausing on Sophia. In those eyes, she found herself again. She remembered what it was like to be a mother. Those eyes seemed to claim her too. In her heart, she knew instantly. The two of them belonged together.

  “He looks very healthy for being abandoned,” Finch said.