Sons of the Marquess Collection

by Mary Kingswood

  They were far enough behind the others that Reggie felt it safe to speak. “That is very true. Indeed, who could not like her? She is charming in every way. My acquaintance with her is not of long-standing, but every day that passes increases my admiration for her manners and quick wit.”

  “And her person?” Lady Hardy said with a sly glance at him. “Do not tell me you are indifferent to her attributes in that direction.”

  He laughed, rather shame-faced. “A lady must have more than a pretty face and well-formed figure to recommend her, and so I mention her other virtues first.”

  “Well answered!” she said.

  “Indeed, I am perfectly sure I have never even noticed her bright eyes or smooth cheeks or her dainty hands or—”

  “Enough!” she said, with a smile. “Now you have quite spoilt the effect! But I shall not tease you about Miss Chamberlain any further. Let us talk of other matters. May I say how delighted I am that Mr Merton is to become Lord Carrbridge’s secretary. Never was a man better suited to such a role.”

  Reggie made some non-committal answer, but Lady Hardy frowned. “I know you do not think much of him now, Lord Reginald, but I assure you, in a year or two you will all wonder how you ever managed without him.”

  “Is that so?” He could not keep the disbelief out of his voice.

  She threw him a quizzical look, but said, “His disposition is not of an open, easy nature, which makes it hard for him to recommend himself to others, but I know him to be the most generous and best of men, as well as one of the cleverest. He was a devoted and loyal friend to Sir Osborne for many, many years, in trying circumstances, for Lady Hardy — Philippa, Lady Hardy, that is, Sir Osborne’s mother — took him in great dislike, and opposed his influence over Sir Osborne at every turn. I was able to counter that to a great degree, but that reprieve is at an end now that Lady Hardy has taken Lady Hardy — oh dear! I mean the new Lady Hardy — under her wing.” She clucked in dismay. “You cannot imagine, Lord Reginald, how awkward it is to have no fewer than three Lady Hardys in one house. It is at least one too many, and I was never more glad in my life to receive an invitation from Connie.”

  He smiled, and said, “Indeed, it must be difficult, and it is the greatest pleasure to have you here, not least because you are the only person who can defeat Mr Merton at chess. Even Humphrey cannot do it, to my eternal disappointment.”

  She laughed. “Ah, but I have had several years to get to know Mr Merton’s favoured strategies. My success is hard-won, I do assure you, for Mr Merton insists that I earn every victory honestly. He will make no allowance for my female fragility, is it not ungallant of him? Oh, is this Lake Cottage already? It is closer than I had thought.”

  “As the crow flies, certainly, but the distance is quite four miles by road.”

  Mr Sharp, the agent, met them at the front door with a huge ring of keys. Sharp was a scrawny man, beginning to be stooped with age, although he made no complaint of illness or infirmity, and seemed as sprightly as a man half his age. He still wore his faded red hair long and beribboned, in the old style, and his full-skirted coat and tricorn hat were at least twenty years out of date. But his deep blue eyes were as shrewd as ever. He bowed several times to the party before unlocking the front door to admit them.

  They wandered in and out of the principal rooms, the talk all of wallpaper and chimney-pieces and carpets. Reggie remembered Lake Cottage as a pleasant house to visit when the Mallorys had lived there, a feminine house full of pretty little ornaments and furnishings of a solid country style, neither too grand nor too modern. Now, empty of furniture and draperies, the walls showing peeling paint and faded wallpaper, with brighter squares where paintings had hung, it was drear and lifeless.

  As they made their way towards the back of the house, Reggie found himself beside Miss Chamberlain. She smiled and said, “It is neglected, but I believe it has possibilities. What do you think, Lord Reginald?”

  “I think it is an over-large house for one man to be rattling around in,” Reggie said sourly. Then, when she turned surprised eyes on him, he was ashamed of his own churlishness. “It was a charming house in Mrs Mallory’s hands, and I am sure it can be made so again.”

  “With the application of a great deal of money, yes.”

  That aspect had not occurred to Reggie. “Oh, I suppose it will fall to Carrbridge to lay out the ready.” It peeved him greatly that his brother should be put to the expense of refurbishing a large house like this for Merton to enjoy.

  “From what I have overheard between Mr Merton and Mr Sharp, it appears that Mr Merton is quite happy to lay out his own… erm, ready.” A hint of a smile touched her lips.

  “I beg your pardon, Miss Chamberlain. I should not use such vulgar terms before a lady.”

  “Indeed you should not, for look how I faint away at the very mention of such things. Oh! Oh dear me! How shocking!” She raised one hand to her forehead, eyes closed, in an attitude of female distress, making Reggie chuckle. Relaxing her pose, she went on in lowered tones, “Do not think me bird-witted, my lord, I beg of you, for I am awake on every suit, and you cannot bamboozle me with your male slumming.” He laughed in delight to hear her speak so. “My cousins use far worse expressions, I do assure you. Oh, what now is the difficulty?”

  Reggie, being a little taller than Miss Chamberlain, was able to peer over the heads of the others. “The door to the kitchens is locked, and Sharp has not the correct key, it appears. Ah well, the kitchens are not very interesting. We must turn about and go back to the stairs, for we are to view the bedrooms next, it seems.”

  “I must disagree with you, Lord Reginald. A bedroom is just a room, but the kitchen is the very beating heart of the house. I cannot make a proper judgement of the place without understanding how Mr Merton’s beef is to be cooked. Is there no other way in?”

  “There must be. The scullery door always stood open to the yard, as I recall. Maybe it has been left unlocked?”

  “Shall we go and find out?” Without another word, she ducked out of the line filing towards the stairs and made straight for the front door.

  As soon as they had effected an escape, Reggie led the way around the side of the house, gallantly forging a path through overgrown sage and lavender. The yard at the back of the house was overgrown, but a couple of well-used paths crossed it. The kitchen wing was lower than the rest of the house, tucked away out of sight from the road and hidden from its neighbours by trees, and as soon as he saw it, Reggie stopped dead with an exclamation. The windows sported cheerful calico curtains, a bucket of potatoes stood waiting to be peeled outside the scullery door and from one low chimney rose a clear plume of smoke.

  “I understood the house to be unoccupied,” Miss Chamberlain said in bewildered tones.

  “It is meant to be,” Reggie said grimly. “It would appear that we have trespassers.”

  6: Doors And Windows

  Robinia did not hesitate. She marched straight to the scullery door, and lifted the latch.

  “Miss Chamberlain!” Lord Reginald’s voice was sharp. “Do not enter! Miss Chamberlain, you must not! You do not know what might await you inside.”

  His nervousness made her want to laugh. “What, do you think there might be pirates lurking inside? Or wicked robbers?”

  “Who can tell? At least let me go in first.”

  “It is most likely just poor people who have nowhere else to live, but by all means go first, Lord Reginald, for I cannot open the door at all.”

  “Is it locked?” He rattled the latch a few times, ineffectually.

  “There is no keyhole, so it cannot be locked,” she said. “It is bolted on the inside, I suspect. Is there another door? There is, look — further down. Let us try that one.”

  But that door was firmly closed, too, and Lord Reginald declined to attempt to break it down. “It looks quite unbreakable to me. Leave it to Sharp. I daresay he can find the keys if he searches hard enough.”

  “I am sure
he can,” Robinia said. “So Mr Sharp has had the management of this house? Has he not looked for tenants? Official tenants, that is?”

  “Oh, undoubtedly. That is his job after all,” Lord Reginald said. “Miss Chamberlain, now what are you about? Do come away from the windows! Let us rejoin the others.”

  But Robinia would not be deterred. Thankful she had chosen her stoutest boots to wear that day, she trampled down waist-high nettles to peer through every window. They were clean, not grimy with neglect, and inside she saw plain wooden furniture and rag rugs on the floor. One room was set up as a parlour with chairs around the walls, and ornaments on the mantelpiece. In the kitchen itself, plates were displayed on a dresser, and a heap of carrots and greens on the big table suggested a meal in preparation. A kettle hung over a low fire.

  “Well, they have damped down the fire a little,” she said, “but they are still in there, I should say. We should send for the constable.”

  “He has to come from Sagborough, and would not be here until tomorrow,” Lord Reginald said. “Leave it to Sharp to deal with, Miss Chamberlain, I implore you.”

  “But there are enough gentlemen here to break down even a door as solid as this without difficulty. There might even be some suitable tools in the old coach house over there. It would not be—”

  “No! This is not your concern, Miss Chamberlain,” Lord Reginald said. “Pray do as I have suggested, and let us return to the others.”

  Robinia was unused to having perfectly sensible ideas brushed aside in this cavalier fashion. Was he so cowardly that he would rather run away than confront whoever was living in the house? But there was little point standing in the kitchen yard arguing about it, so she nodded and, without a word, turned and marched back to the front of the house, leaving Lord Reginald trailing in her wake.

  The rest of the party were just emerging from the front door, and Robinia lost no time in telling them what she had found. Despite all that Lord Reginald had said, she could not help adding, “We have five gentlemen here. I am sure we could break down the scullery door without the least difficulty.”

  “What a splendid idea!” Lord Carrbridge said at once. “This sounds most exciting! Let us unmask these trespassers at once.”

  Lady Carrbridge clutched her husband’s arm anxiously, Mr Whittleton looked alarmed and Mr Sharp laughed immoderately, as if he had never heard so fine a joke.

  “My lord, it’s harder than you might think to break down a door,” Mr Sharp said. “No need to trouble your lordship, not in the slightest, nor any of you fine gentlemen. Off you all go, now. Take the ladies back for their breakfast, and leave it all to me to deal with.”

  “If it is no trouble, Sharp…” the marquess said, although he looked disappointed not to have the opportunity to break down a door.

  “Not the least trouble in the world, my lord. No need for you to think any more about it. The keys will be back in the office somewhere, to be sure. I’ll go and find them, and come right back here to see what’s what in the kitchens, although…” He threw a sly glance at Robinia. “I doubt not the place is empty.”

  “But I saw—” Robinia began.

  “I’ll get Maisie in to sweep round a bit, and bring the keys for you tomorrow, if that suits your lordship.”

  “Very well, Sharp. We shall leave it all to you.”

  “But—” Robinia began again, but the party had already begun to drift down the path to the gate. Mr Sharp grinned and bowed obsequiously to her, and she had no choice but to give it up. Even so, she seethed all the way back to Drummoor and all through breakfast.

  But then she had a final fitting for a ball gown, one of the marchioness’s which had been altered to fit Robinia, and her resentment dropped away. It would be strange indeed if she could not be cheered by her reflection in the looking glass wearing white satin with a white Italian gauze overskirt, flounced and edged with tiny ruffles, with more delicate ruffles at the neck and sleeves, and just a hint of silver embroidery. Even her own mama and papa would scarcely know her in such an exquisite ensemble.

  “Oh, that suits you admirably!” the marchioness cried. “These new sleeves are a great improvement, and the bodice a little lower than you are accustomed to but very fashionable. You will turn every head when you dance. Oh, I do hope I can obtain vouchers for Almacks for you!”

  “Miss Chamberlain will have so many admirers when she goes to London,” the maid said, with a sentimental sigh.

  Robinia laughed and twirled round excitedly. London! She could hardly wait.

  ~~~~~

  Reggie was rather glum after this. He felt sure he had acted properly in every way in refusing to attempt to break in to Lake Cottage, for he could not possibly have exposed Miss Chamberlain to whatever danger might lie within the kitchen wing. Besides, Sharp was sure to have a key somewhere, so breaking down doors was hardly necessary and a trifle melodramatic.

  But then he had not been at all convinced that there was any danger to be found there. He could, perhaps, have played a more heroic role, and opened the door for her, and then gently shown her that there was nothing inside to disturb her. She might have been so pleased to be reassured that she turned to him and—

  He had to stop himself following this line of thought, however pleasant it might be. There was little point in fantasising about the form Miss Chamberlain’s gratitude might take when he had not yet secured her. And that happy event might never now take place, for she was thoroughly at odds with him.

  The whole evening was spent trying to enjoy just five minutes in quiet conversation with her, and failing repeatedly. She was in a gaggle of young ladies in the saloon before dinner, and he did not quite have the confidence to prise her away from her friends. One young lady at a time he could manage perfectly well, for he was a gentleman, after all, and had been brought up to the art of conversation designed to please a lady. But several together intimidated him, with their giggles and fans hiding their faces and all that whispering. No, he was much safer to stay with the men.

  Then he was too slow when they went in to dinner and Julius Whittleton was there before him. Reggie despised Julius, but he despised himself more for allowing himself to be outwitted by such a slow-top, who had nothing to recommend him, and yet contrived to keep Miss Chamberlain entertained throughout the meal. At least, she seemed to be entertained, for she smiled a great deal. How Reggie wished she would smile that way at him, her whole face alight with merriment. She was so handsome when she smiled.

  But even after dinner, when he left the gentlemen early with the sole intention of securing her company, he was again too late, for she was seated between Aunt Juliana and Aunt Patience, all three discoursing with spirit, and it would take a braver man than Reggie to intervene there.

  He took his tea and stood morosely on the far side of the room from Miss Chamberlain, where he would not be distracted by her, but despite himself he found his eye drawn to her again and again. Once or twice in the middle of some animated stream of words, she looked up and caught him watching her, and then the flow would pause in contemplation before she turned back to her companions and the discussion rolled on.

  “You are lost in thought this evening, Lord Reginald.”

  He jumped. “Oh, Lady Hardy! Forgive me, I was not attending.”

  “You are distracted, I think,” she said with a little smile, following his eyes. “But then, she does look very fetching in that gown, does she not? Cousin Connie has contrived a striking improvement with just a little London polish.”

  “I never noticed any defect in Miss Chamberlain’s appearance,” Reggie said crossly. “The gown is well enough, but the wearer needs no aid to her beauty.”

  “It is a shame such a pretty compliment is wasted on my ears, unheard by the lady herself.”

  “I daresay she would not thank me for it,” he said gloomily. “She thinks me a poor-spirited creature.”

  Lady Hardy turned to look fully at him, her tea cup half way to her lips. She set it down a
gain thoughtfully. “Miss Chamberlain thinks us all poor-spirited, I fancy. She was quite ready to see the door broken down to effect entry, and find the scoundrels who were living there. Was there anyone living there, do you suppose? Did you see any signs of it yourself?”

  He hesitated, but honesty compelled him to admit to it. “The chimney was smoking, and there was a bucket of potatoes beside the door. There were well-worn paths across the yard, too, which I set to the account of animals but it seems improbable now.”

  “Ah, interesting. Could you see much through the windows?”

  “I confess, I did not look. Miss Chamberlain did so, impervious to the monstrous brambles and nettles under the windows. I am sure her pelisse sustained some damage.”

  “Yes, but what did she observe?”

  “I cannot tell you,” he said helplessly. “It is a pity I did not think to ask her, but at that moment my greatest concern lay in keeping her from harm.”

  “You are very gallant, Lord Reginald,” Lady Hardy said gravely. “Perhaps we should ask her now?”

  Not waiting for his answer, with the smallest of gestures she contrived to catch Miss Chamberlain’s attention, and within moments that lady had extricated herself from the aunts and was on her way across the room to join them. Reggie could only admire such adroitness, which must surely arise from some secret language amongst the ladies to which he, as a mere man, was not privy. How easy courtship would be if one need only lift a finger or two in that unobtrusive manner, and immediately the object of one’s attention would understand and respond. If only he had the way of it, he could have spent the entire evening with Miss Chamberlain.

  But now, here the lady was, and Reggie had not the least idea what he ought to say to her. He felt an apology was required, although he was not at all sure what for, but it was awkward. How to begin? ‘Regarding our earlier disagreement, I should like—’ No, that was too abrupt. Something more subtle? ‘Miss Chamberlain, if I have been so unfortunate as to have offended you in any way—’ Or perhaps straightforwardness was preferable? ‘I beg your pardon for my behaviour this morning—’