Grenville 02 - Lord John's Dilemma

by G. G. Vandagriff

  “Yes. But I will put up with her scenes gladly to have my children back. They are what matters most in the equation.”

  John thought for a moment. Alan had always struck him as a kind and reasonable man. How could his sister have managed to drive him to this state of cold and weary acceptance?

  “I am going to speak to Alex about this,” he said. “I am the younger brother, but there must be some way he can intervene. Not only is it bad for your marriage for Anabella to constantly keep things stirred up, but it is bad for the children. I know. My father was like Anabella. In the end, we were glad when he went off to his parties and gaming tables.”

  “But what of this woman her friends supposedly saw me with? She will never believe that there is no one!”

  “Has there been anyone that you have worked with for a charity project that you might have been seen with?”

  Alan sat back and pursed his lips, concentrating. “There is always some society or another who is working with my clinic in the East End. And to tell you the truth, some of the women have been known to be flirtatious. But I never let it lead anywhere.”

  John frowned. “Well then, I would say that it was most probably one of those women. The thing is, she wasn’t known in ton circles.”

  Alan slapped his knees. “Of course! It must have been Miss Stubbs.”

  “Miss Stubbs?”

  “She is what Anabella would call a cit. She has inherited a lot of money from her grandfather and has formed rather a wonderful charity which includes my services to a particular foot regiment she has adopted. She is jolly lovely, but I’ve only met her in person once.”

  “Miss Stubbs it is, then.” John thought for a few minutes, his brain making lightning connections. “You know, I’m here to organize a charity of my own for my own regiment. I have come into a bit of money. I don’t know how much. But I won’t be living in London. Perhaps it would be good for Anabella to have a charity of her own to organize. She is very good at that sort of thing, but I know when she got too idle at home, that is when she would cause trouble. “

  “Sounds a tremendous idea, John. Perfect solution all ‘round. Now, what do you say we have luncheon?”

  Over lunch, John discussed the plans for his charity, which were still in their infancy, also giving his brother-in-law an update on their Grenville nieces and nephews. When the servants were out of the room, Alan inquired after his further advice on the situation with Anabella. “She wants me to come storming after her as I have in the past. What shall I do? I think that sort of dramatic reaction only encourages her.”

  John considered. “I shall write to Alex and ask him, as head of the family, to talk to her and encourage her to come home. She needs to know that you are at the end of your tether as far as this behavior is concerned. After I speak with my friends, I shall be more prepared to speak with her about our plans for our soldiers’ charity and ask if she would like to run it for us.”

  “I appreciate both of those things. She will listen to Alex if she listens to anyone, and the charity work will give her thoughts another direction.”

  They finished up their luncheon with an apple crumble and a glass of claret apiece. Alan rose reluctantly. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your intervention in this situation. I have been tearing my hair out with worry.”

  “I hope Alex can make her see reason. You are very good to her. You don’t deserve this type of treatment.”

  They walked down to the vestibule, where they shook hands. “I’m off to the clinic, then. My curricle is being brought round. May I drop you someplace?”

  “Brooks’ if you don’t mind.”

  John went immediately to the writing room, where he undertook to write the letter to Alex as promised. He knew before he even started that Anabella was going to give him the very devil for going behind her back, but he felt that inasmuch as this was an ongoing problem, it needed intervention by a third party. She was very close to Alex and always had been.

  Dear Brother,

  I have seen Alan and apparently Anabella’s problem is more serious in quite a different way than she believes it to be. He has no other woman, first of all. The woman he was seen with was difficult for him to even recollect, as it was a single occasion and they were discussing charity business. She is an heiress whose roots are in the City.

  However, Alan is becoming very weary of Anabella’s continual need for drama. Apparently, she is very jealous and is continually making trouble. It is to the point where, though he misses his children exceedingly, he is glad of the respite from dealing with Anabella’s tempers.

  He swears he has given her no cause. It is my view that she simply wishes some kind of attention from him, even if it is negative. He is a very busy man with his practice, his free clinic, and his charities. I think Anabella would be much better served if she involved herself in some worthwhile project in concert with him. Or, if she liked, she could work on my project alongside the Countess of Worth.

  I don’t envy you having to bring this up with her, but she will be miserable and make her husband miserable if she continues along this path.

  My business goes well …

  He spent the remainder of the afternoon and evening renewing friendships with club members from Harrow and Sandhurst. Many he had not seen since he had begun campaigning on the Peninsula four years earlier. Few were anything but idle gentlemen with cards and horseracing taking up their time. The minutiae of their lives depressed him.

  A particularly boorish peer called Lord Manchester seemed to sum up all that he most disliked about these club-dwellers. He was gambling at piquet using his expectations of a marriage to an heiress as his stake.

  “Have you set the date then, Manchester?” asked his would-be partner.

  The peer, who was tall, dark, and square jawed, appeared to John to be every maiden’s dream. Manchester said carelessly, “Cordelia is a bit shy. I have no doubt she shall accept my suit in the end. In fact, her guardian guarantees it, but she is off on a visit at present.”

  John spared a moment of pity for the poor Cordelia and decided he had had enough of the club for one day. After an early dinner, he returned home to Grenville House and began to organize his thoughts regarding his charity on paper.

  { 14 }

  The night following her waltz among the daisies with the major, Delia had a difficult time falling asleep. She kept seeing his startling blue eyes, first in their expression of heavy melancholy, the dark blue ring around his irises most pronounced. Then as he laughed down at her, his eyes had lightened. Being in his embrace, twirling madly through the flowers had been headier than any dance she had performed at any ball during the two years she had been out. It had thrilled her down to her toes. On top of that, it had cheered her to see his good spirits and the twinkle in his eye. However, she was slightly alarmed at his refusal to believe her name was Miss Haverley.

  Delia had never drawn much interest among the ton. Her fortune had been a well-kept secret until her uncle had disclosed it to Lord Manchester after Gerald’s death. Other than that, her small stature and ordinary looks were not enough to make her visible among the Incomparables and the Diamonds of the First Water. Her conversational skills were excellent, but most gentlemen of the ton bored her. It was only the knowledge that she must marry in order to receive her fortune that drove her into society at all. And now she was completely removed, all except for association with the Lindsay and Grenville families.

  And nothing can come of that, you silly goose!

  The next morning, her presence was required in Lady Lindsay’s sitting room. Leaving the schoolroom, she followed the servant who had summoned her downstairs.

  Lady Lindsay sat at her desk with her back to the door. Without turning around, she said, “How did Molly and Mariah come to ruin their muslins with grass stains yesterday, Miss Haverley?”

  Delia’s conscience immediately smote her. Had her charges suffered disapproval or perhaps punishment for her impetuosity the da
y before?

  “It was my idea, Lady Lindsay. It was not their fault. We went walking among the yellow daisies at Grenville Park. They are knee high this time of year, my lady.”

  “You prevaricate, Miss Haverley. My girls tell me you were dancing!” With this final word, she turned around to face her governess, and Delia was surprised to see that her face was contorted in fury.

  “Well, yes…” she said. “It was such a lovely day and our spirits were high…”

  Her employer waved her hand, dismissing the explanation. “You were dancing with Lord John! My daughter’s intended!”

  Delia straightened her back and squared her shoulders. “I was not aware that there was an engagement, Lady Lindsay.”

  “Enough of your insolence and your hoydenish behavior! You are dismissed. Without a reference. I want you gone by noon.”

  Delia stood rooted in shock. Her thoughts froze.

  “I cannot spare the carriage, so you will walk to Boston.” Slapping two coins on her desk, she said, “The Mail Coach fare to Kent. And consider yourself lucky to receive that.”

  Delia’s thoughts finally went to her charges. “Molly and Mariah—you won’t punish them? It was my idea.”

  “They shall be punished indeed. They shall be forced to accompany us to London.”

  Delia let out the breath she had been holding. Her foolishness had not hurt anyone save herself. “If that is all, my lady, I will retire to my room to pack. I shall send for my things when I have a new position.”

  Lady Lindsay merely turned her back and went back to her correspondence. Delia did not avail herself of the coins on the desk. She had money, tucked away in her jewel case. She would ride post chaise to Dorset.

  But even the idea of seeing Permelia did not cheer her. When she climbed to the attic, she found she was shaking. Thoughts began running around in her head like rats in a cage.

  The major. I shall never see the major again. Our waltz among the daisies may prove to be the highlight of my life, should I have to humble myself to marry Lord Manchester.

  Thinking of the man’s large hands on her made her nauseous. But given the choice of living in seclusion in Dorset with her uncle’s sadistic beatings and constant belittling of her and a loveless marriage with Lord Manchester, she would much prefer the latter. As Permelia said, at least she would have her own establishment. But what if he runs through my fortune at the gaming tables?

  Sitting down on her hated bed, she stilled her incipient tears with the heels of her hands. Self-pity was her enemy. She knew that, and yet much as she disliked Lady Lindsay, she was attached to her pupils and would feel the wrench.

  Her thoughts would not stay long away from the major. He disliked London. She had no reason ever to come back to Lincolnshire. There was certainly no chance that she would ever see him again. He did not know her name. He did not know her direction. He did not even know she was not a governess.

  How could he be lodged so strongly in her heart? She had only had a handful of conversations with the man. Looking at her hands, now in her lap, she focused on their ordinariness. They were small and neat. Just like her. She had no outstanding qualities or looks to tempt a man. Certainly not this man whom she would never see again.

  Heart heavy in her chest, Delia packed her few items of clothing in a trunk to be sent on later. Then taking a change of linen, one frock, her toilet articles, and her jewels, she put them in a bandbox.

  It was a warm day, so she packed her pelisse as well so she would not have to wear it. She fitted her bonnet to her head and tied its ribbons under her chin. Without even looking in the mirror, she left the room.

  Molly and Mariah were no longer in the schoolroom, so Delia would have to leave without saying good-bye. Holding her head high as she clutched her bandbox, she sailed out the front door.

  The road to Boston ran past the Grenville Estate. As she trod the dusty road in her inadequate shoes, she thought how much she would miss the neighborhood. In its own way, with its beautiful old intensely green trees and dense forests, it was almost as lovely as her wilder Dorset. The places she had spent time with the major—even the folly—were especially dear. She tried to picture him settling here at Lindsay Hall, married to Marianne Lindsay, but she could not see it.

  Then she remembered his inheritance. She was going to Dorset, but he would most likely be going to Nottinghamshire. They would have been parted soon enough, even if she had not lost her position. She straightened her weary shoulders. Perhaps it was better this way, before she became too much more attached to him. Tears once again stung her eyes, but she dashed them away.

  She had just reached this sad pass when she heard a pair of hoof beats behind her. The Grenville family carriage had soon pulled up next to her and stopped.

  Lady Anabella opened the door and climbed down. “Miss Haverley, wherever are you off to?”

  “I am to catch the Mail in Boston. Lady Lindsay has turned me off,” she said uneasily.

  “Turned you off! And set you walking all the way to Boston?” Her dark eyes flashed. “She is a horror and no mistake. No one deserves such treatment! Come! I will take you to Grenville Manor. I do not suppose you have even had your luncheon, have you?”

  Delia shook her head. She had walked only a short way but was weighed down by her bandbox and already felt weary. She was inclined to take the impetuous lady up on her offer.

  “How very kind of you, Lady Anabella. Thank you so much. I must admit I am a little tired.”

  A footman hopped off the back of the carriage and assisted both women to climb in.

  Her rescuer began a tirade as soon as they were seated. “Who is that woman anyway? No one but an encroaching mushroom! Her husband received his title for valor in the late wars, but he was already married to her. Her whole family is in Trade! It is obvious you are of gentle birth. How dare she presume to dismiss you when you are a far finer lady than she will ever be!”

  Delia bit her tongue. And how did Lady Anabella know this? she wanted to ask.

  Instead she said, “You are very kind to me.”

  “We will take care of you at the Manor. You will see.” Then the woman was quiet for a time, but Delia could almost hear the wheels turning in her head. She was more grateful than she could say for this temporary respite.

  When they reached Grenville Manor and entered the house, they found Felicity arranging flowers in the still room.

  “Why, Miss Haverley, this is a surprise! Have your brought Molly and Mariah for a visit with the twins, perhaps?”

  “No, my lady. To my sorrow, I am no longer their governess. I have been turned off. Lady Anabella found me on the road to Boston, where I am to catch the Mail.”

  “You were walking?”

  “Lady Lindsay could not spare the carriage.”

  Lady Grenville’s face darkened. “That is not the conduct of a lady,” she said. “Well done, Anabella. Thank you for rescuing Miss Haverley.”

  “She has not had luncheon,” the lady’s sister announced.

  Lady Grenville thought it was a particularly fine day to eat luncheon on the terrace. So instead of walking down a dusty road for miles until she reached Boston, Delia found herself eating fresh trout, garden vegetables, and an apple tart while overlooking the lawns and flowering shrubs of Grenville Manor.

  Lady Anabella kept a running catalog of Lady Lindsay’s social sins while Lady Grenville wore a distracted air.

  “That is enough, Anabella, dear,” she said gently. “I should like to ask Miss Haverley something.” Setting down her utensils, she said, “Do you think you might like to teach a younger girl? Perhaps nine or ten?”

  “You have such a girl in mind?” Delia answered, surprise causing her heart to leap.

  “Our neighbor to the east is Mr. Aldershott, a widower of about forty. He lives with his sister, but she has recently had a terrible fall and injured her hip. She is bedbound and can no longer see to Clarissa’s needs and education.”

  “How terr
ibly sad. Is Mr. Aldershott’s sister to be bedbound long?” Could Lady Grenville actually be trying to find a way for her to stay?

  “Possibly for the rest of her life. It is very sad.”

  With difficulty, Delia forced herself to be cautious. “And Mr. Aldershott? Could you tell me what he is like?”

  Lady Anabella said, “How clever of you, Felicity!” Turning to Delia, she said, “He is an absolutely saintly man. Quite short, with a little bald spot, but very good-looking aside from that. He has no vices that I am aware of, and absolutely dotes on Clarissa.”

  “He sounds very pleasant,” Delia said, careful not to sound overly eager. She was afraid her shaking hands would betray her and put them in her lap, where she gripped them together.

  Lady Grenville said, “I think you might actually be an answer to prayer where he is concerned.”

  Delia looked from one lady to the other. “You think he might take me on as governess?”

  “I do,” said Lady Grenville. “I shall write to him immediately after luncheon.”

  { 15 }

  John spent his second morning in London with his brother’s man of business, Mr. Peters. Short and round, with a green velvet waistcoat and wire-rimmed glasses, he had offices in the City.

  “I have just come into an unexpected bequest from my uncle,” he explained to the man he had met but once before when he was much younger.

  “Jolly good!” the man said with a hearty grin.

  “You know, none better, the shape my father’s estate was in before the earl married Lady Grenville,” John said.

  “Yes. Is this your father’s brother’s estate you are to inherit?”

  “It is. I am in the mind to set up a charity organization, and I would like to know if my uncle was as profligate as my father. They were very close. I will be meeting with my uncle upon my return from London, but before I meet with my partners, I should like to have an idea where I stand financially. My brother says that you have your ear close to the ground, as they say.”

  “Yes, he is right. You have come to the right person in this case, for I represent your uncle as well as I did your father and now your brother. I can tell you that your uncle was far more circumspect with his affairs, though he enjoyed an occasional flutter at the tables. His estate is intact and in very good condition. I think you can expect to receive a very nice inheritance, and though I am very sorry about your cousin’s death, I am happy for you regarding this legacy.”