The Great Estate

by Sherri Browning

  She knew Teresa was being deliberately antagonistic to show that they were in no danger of becoming too comfortably close. She was happy to play along. “Or it’s the poltergeist. Perhaps word has gotten out. Aunt Agatha swears there’s a mischievous spirit in the house who occasionally steals her gowns. The spirit of George.”

  “George?”

  Sophia nodded. “You know the one, the great-great-uncle who allegedly drowned in a vat of wine. He’s come back as a poltergeist who inhabits the Dower House and steals gowns.”

  “Why would he steal ladies’ gowns?” Teresa’s brows knit in her confusion.

  “Agatha says he probably likes to dress up in them. She has known men who like to dress up as women. She claims it’s hardly all that unusual.”

  “To be the ghost of a boy who drowned in a wine vat and has come back to steal and try on women’s gowns?” Gabriel asked. “Not unusual at all.”

  “Nothing surprises me from that woman Agatha. Except that she isn’t back yet.”

  “Still not back? I suppose they had a long way to go. And no idea that we’ve already brought Anna back home to the farm where she belongs, until she decides if she wants to come back and work for me. She’s always welcome.”

  Teresa sighed. “I don’t like the idea of Charles out all night with that woman. I have a bad feeling when it comes to those two. They’re getting entirely too close for my liking. When I’m around them, I’m starting to feel like a third wheel.”

  “Mother thinks that Lord Markham should be in love with her,” Gabriel explained, drawing a pained look from his mother. “He was in love with her once when they were young, and she thinks that maybe they could have something together again.”

  “Gabriel, a woman needs her secrets,” his mother admonished.

  “I have no secrets from my wife.” He kissed Sophia on the top of her head.

  “But I do!” Teresa exclaimed.

  “Isn’t Lord Markham a little old for you, Teresa?” Sophia asked in effort to placate her mother-in-law. “I pictured you more with someone like Mr. Grant.”

  “Mr. Grant?” Teresa began to laugh.

  “What’s wrong with Mr. Grant? I thought you liked him. He’s handsome, in a way that some women respond to. Not me, of course. I have my own golden god.”

  “You two are starting to make me ill,” Teresa said. “But there’s nothing wrong with Mr. Grant. Not really.”

  “But why did you laugh?” Sophia was intrigued. She believed that Teresa was too grandmotherly to appeal to a man like Grant, but she didn’t expect Teresa to find it funny for Sophia to suggest a romantic interest.

  “Did you ever wonder why he decided to share the cottage with Cornelius Kenner? Or why Kenner accepted the idea of the two of them living together?”

  “You don’t think…” Sophia couldn’t finish the thought. “But there are two bedrooms. It doesn’t mean…”

  Teresa shrugged.

  “I can’t believe it,” Gabriel said. “Mr. Grant expressed an appreciation for Marcus’s wife, Eve.”

  “I like her too. The man has taste. But he was simply distracting you from the truth. He couldn’t very well claim an interest in your wife, and there aren’t many other women around here. He deemed it safe to pretend to have an interest in your brother’s wife. She’s married. She’s very pretty. But not for him, trust me.” Teresa waved a hand dismissively. “Six years in Italy. I’ve seen it all.”

  Gabriel and Sophia locked gazes, and she knew they were thinking the same thing. How she had missed that most of all—being such a part of someone that you knew what they were thinking just in a shared glance.

  Teddy began to fuss. “I think Theodore Neville needs his nurse. When was the last feeding, Teresa?”

  “What did you call him just then?”

  Sophia smiled. She knew her mother-in-law wouldn’t miss the reference. “We’ve decided to name him Theodore Neville Thorne, after both of his grandmothers. Do you like it?”

  Teresa beamed. “Other than the fact that my name should come first, yes. I like it very much. It will do well for him.”

  * * *

  Several hours after they’d arrived home, just after they’d gotten Teddy bathed and ready for bed with a maid in his room to look after him in case he woke, they were preparing for a quiet, early dinner when Agatha and Lord Markham finally arrived back from Scotland.

  “No luck at Gretna Green,” Lord Markham said. “At least, not in finding the young people.”

  “Charles, please.” Aunt Agatha was resplendent in a subdued peach-and-ivory ensemble with only half the usual number of feathers pluming from her hat. She giggled like a girl and elbowed Lord Markham. “Be serious. I knew the young people had probably gone off to London. You found Anna just as she had her change of heart?”

  “Yes, how did you know?” Sophia asked out of courtesy. After all their years together, Sophia knew that Agatha preferred for people to marvel over her skills instead of taking them for granted.

  “The spirits!” Agatha said. “The spirits know all! And sometimes, when I’m blessed, they reveal a little of their vast knowledge to me. Unfortunately, my skills did not get passed on to you, dear. If Alice were here, she might guess. Alice has a bit of a gift, though she hasn’t embraced it yet. It must be the green eyes. I’ve always said they mark her as special. Green eyes.”

  “Agatha, you’re getting carried away again,” Charles reminded her. Oddly, they suddenly reminded Sophia of an old married couple.

  “Aunt Agatha! You didn’t.”

  Agatha brought her hands to her face. “Oh my word, you did guess! Charles, she guessed. She has the second sight after all! My dear Sophia. I’m so proud.”

  “What are you all blathering on about?” Teresa couldn’t stand it any longer. “Anna was found, of course, after coming to her senses and not marrying the boy. And she has been back home at the farm for hours now. We’ve all been waiting for the two of you to return. And here you are. I suppose that wraps up every lingering mystery. Well, would you look at me! I must have the second sight too.”

  Sophia should have warned her mother-in-law never to make fun of Agatha’s gifts. At least not directly to Agatha. She didn’t like it. Sophia only half feared that her aunt might have the ability to cast spells along with reading auras, tarot cards, and tea leaves, and getting messages directly from the spirit world. Sophia had accused Teresa of being a dragon often enough, but that didn’t mean she wanted to see her mother-in-law suddenly covered in scales and sporting a tail.

  Fortunately, Agatha wasn’t angry. But of course, newlyweds seldom were. And Agatha had all the power over Teresa she wanted, now that she had won something Teresa had fancied for herself: the love of Charles, Lord Markham.

  “I hate to admit it freely, but I am also confused. What did or didn’t Agatha do? And how does it prove that my wife is gifted, or cursed, with this second sight you speak of? What am I missing?” Gabriel remained close to Sophia. He could hardly stand to be more than a few feet from her at any given moment, or so it had seemed since they’d come home.

  “Charles and I went off to Gretna Green,” Agatha explained. “Not really to find Anna Cooper. I knew she was in London all along…”

  “But to get married!” Charles announced, unable to wait a second longer to make their announcement. “I loved this woman from the moment I first met her, well, first met her again, after meeting her a few times in the past. Coming back to Thornbrook Park and meeting Agatha again, I fell instantly in love with her. And I wasn’t about to let her get away. Pursuing the runaways to Gretna Green provided the perfect excuse. Meet the new Lady Markham, my wife.”

  “Agatha.” Teresa shook her head in disbelief. “You married Agatha?”

  “I’m a wife!” Agatha shouted excitedly, holding out her ring for all to see, a lovely square-cut emerald.

&
nbsp; “Congratulations to you, Lord Markham. And best wishes to you both. May I still call you Aunt Agatha? It feels odd to think of you as anything else.” Sophia hugged Agatha tightly.

  She couldn’t wait to tell Alice! Alice would be so surprised. She desperately missed her globe-trotting sister. And Mother! Mother would be in shock to learn that her free-spirited sister had married at long last.

  “Are you sure it’s not a spell or potion?” Teresa asked, unable to accept the news. “Did you get into some of Mrs. Mallows’s Chinese herbs?”

  “I hope you can be happy for me, Teresa,” Lord Markham said. “I’ve found someone who delights me as much as my first wife did. We were never really suited for each other, you and me. You knew it when you chose Edward, and I learned it when I chose Sarabeth. You’re a dear friend, but it never would have worked between us.”

  Teresa shrugged. “I suppose you’re right. You’re too old for me anyway.”

  “I guess this calls for champagne,” Gabriel said. “I’ll call Finch to bring the glasses.”

  Over dinner, Teresa explained that she would be spending the next few weeks with Marcus and Eve at Markham House, starting the next day. Agatha and Charles announced their intention to go to London for a honeymoon. And Miss Puss?

  “Miss Puss has left me for the afterlife,” Agatha declared over cordials after dinner. “It was time, I suppose. She made her peace with whatever was keeping her here and drifted off to the next world, where she belongs. I’ll meet her again one day.”

  “Not for a very long time, Agatha dear,” Agatha’s husband announced. “We’ve got plans to see Egypt. The pyramids!”

  “Egypt?” It was the last place Sophia expected her Aunt Agatha to go. “Why Egypt?”

  “Alice is on her way home from there. She wrote a few weeks ago. Didn’t I tell you?” Agatha said.

  “It must have slipped your mind.” Alice was coming home! Sophia couldn’t wait for Teddy to meet his aunt Alice. They had so much catching up to do. “What about Mother? How will you tell her that you got married? How will I tell her about Teddy? It might be too much good news for her to bear at once.”

  “I predict she will get through it. But she will be so surprised! The woman has absolutely no ability to see the future. She can barely cope with the present. Perhaps we will stop in to see her on our way to London. Yes! I’ll need to see the look on her face when I tell her. Theodora will have to stop being so high and mighty with me at last, now that we’re both married to earls. Oh, this will be fun.” Agatha clapped her hands.

  “I still can’t believe it,” Gabriel said. “I never saw it coming, the two of you. But I’m very happy for you both.”

  He was, in fact, happiest for himself. For the past year, Gabriel had had only one thing on his mind: showing his wife how much he loved her. They had the rest of their lives to bask in the glow of that love with no more struggle, no more doubt.

  Gabriel raised his glass. “To love!”

  Without hesitation, the rest of them raised their glasses in agreement. Sophia slipped her hand into his and glanced up at him with that same dazzling smile she’d flashed him from across the ballroom some eleven years earlier. “To love!”

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  in the Thornbrook Park series

  An Affair Downstairs

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  An Affair Downstairs

  Thornbrook Park

  November 1907

  Lady Alice Emerson knew exactly what she wanted, and it wasn’t a husband. She had a whole list of things she longed to accomplish in life, all on her own with no one to hold her back or tie her down.

  Her plan had been years in the making, the first step being to get out from under her parents’ control. Once Alice’s maiden aunt, Agatha, and her father had found themselves more frequently at odds, it had been child’s play to convince Mother that accompanying Agatha on an extended visit to Thornbrook Park would be best for everyone, saving Father’s health before being around Agatha could make him apoplectic. Had it been anywhere else, Mother might have hesitated, but she had full confidence in placing Agatha and Alice in the capable hands of Alice’s older sister Sophia, the Countess of Averford.

  Alice knew that her mother expected Sophia to find her a husband, and her sister had been more than up to the task. In her nearly two years at Thornbrook Park, Alice had dissuaded two of her sister’s candidates from proposing, and she had faith that she could survive a few more attempts before Agatha was comfortably settled, all Sophia’s responsibility, and Alice could announce her intention to depart. Who could stop her once she turned five and twenty, when she would come into the money her grandmother had left her? Just three more years.

  On her great list of things to accomplish, Alice had lofty dreams: to travel the world, to climb a mountain, to ride a camel, to captain a pirate ship. And she had simpler goals that she could start on right away, like cornering the fox in a hunt, getting drunk on whiskey, and having a wild affair. She should know love at least once, even if she never planned on marrying. And she had just the man in mind, the same man who could teach her to hunt and to shoot, and who enjoyed a good whiskey—her brother-in-law’s estate manager, Mr. Logan Winthrop.

  Mr. Winthrop would be no easy conquest. To begin with, he didn’t seem to really like people, choosing to keep to himself as much as possible. When he did find himself in company, he maintained a cool, all-business demeanor. Most of the time. Alice had managed to break through his icy exterior once or twice, enough to fuel her hope that she could manage a seduction.

  There were rumors that he’d killed a man, a rival for a woman’s affections, and had come to Thornbrook Park to escape his dangerous past. Rumors didn’t deter Alice. All men had pasts, and rumors were often far from fact. What made him the perfect candidate, besides his soulful eyes and god-like physique, was precisely that he was not the sort to form emotional attachments. There would be no pining after her or rushing into a commitment.

  An estate manager’s income wouldn’t come close to supporting an earl’s daughter in the style to which she’d become accustomed, or so he would believe. He would never expect her to marry him, even if she managed to seduce him. Once she could convince Logan Winthrop to let his guard down again, she would take the opportunity to kiss him.

  She’d hoped to run into him that morning when she left the Dower House to breakfast with her sister at Thornbrook Park. The gardeners were preparing the grounds for winter, and it was rare that Winthrop wouldn’t be out with the groundskeeper overseeing the efforts. Unfortunately, Winthrop hadn’t been in sight. She stood outside the breakfast room, hand poised to turn the beveled-glass knob, when she heard his voice inside.

  “Lemon trees? So many of them?” His voice had that raspy edge that signaled his displeasure. Alice knew it from the many times he had told her to stop asking questions and leave him to his work. She smiled. “I don’t know much about the care of exotic fruit trees, but I will research the subject.”

  “Four trees. I can’t imagine what the woman was thinking, as usual.” Her sister wasn’t delighted by the prospect either, apparently. “It’s practically an orchard.”

  Sophia had a tendency toward exaggeration.

  “Mother means well. Likely she feared a few might not make the journey safely. She wants you to have lemonade, not exactly a sinister sentiment behind the gift. You could try to be more grateful.” The rumpling of a newspaper followed Lord Averford’s explanation. Typical. He tended to hide behind the news once he’d had his fill of morning pleasantries, or unpleasantries, as it were.

  “It’s not that I’m ungrateful. I’ll send her a letter as soon as they arrive, of course.”

  The old Dowager Countess was sending lemon trees to Thornbrook Park from Italy, where she had taken up residence these last few years? Alice, thinking of th
e hours she could spend in the warm conservatory with Mr. Winthrop, couldn’t muster any disappointment. There were roses, sweet peas, and lemon trees on the way. What an ideal setting for a kiss!

  “You know who has some experience with lemon trees?” Lord Averford asked, not really expecting an answer. “The Marquess of Brumley. I remember his wife had several trees, oranges and lemons. Perhaps I should invite him to come offer you a hand, Winthrop.”

  “I wouldn’t mind some advice.” Winthrop seemed to be none too sure. He might have meant the opposite, that he would mind very much indeed.

  “Brumley?” The sound of her sister’s teacup clinking in the saucer made Alice jump. “The widower Brumley? Your brother’s former classmate, the one with the ancient wife who recently passed away?”

  “The very one. Eleanor died last year, though, not so recent. He’s—”

  “Out of mourning.” Alice could picture her sister clasping her hands in glee. “And a marquess. I’m sure he’s lonely. We should invite him. For an extended stay.”

  Alice felt the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. A widower. Her sister’s next candidate to win Alice over to the idea of marriage. Not again. If the aroma of cinnamon toast had tempted her to enter the room, the idea of a marquess being pushed at her changed her mind. She backed slowly away from the door. Perhaps she would break her fast with Aunt Agatha in the Dower House after all. She turned and had begun to walk quietly down the hall when the housekeeper, Mrs. Hoyle, sprung on her from out of nowhere.

  “Good morning, Lady Alice. Have you come for breakfast?”

  “I thought I left a pair of gloves behind last night. I just had a quick look in the drawing room. No gloves. I’ll be on my way.”

  “But I’ve just come from the drawing room. I didn’t see you come in.” The infernal woman cocked an accusing brow. “Perhaps one of the maids picked them up. Come along to the kitchen and we’ll have a look.”