Belmary House Book One

by Cassidy Cayman

  “You look worse than something the cat dragged in,” his friend told him, clapping him on the shoulder the moment he was off his horse.

  He nodded gratefully to the groom who took the horse away for a warm stall and some oats, and then looked over Jeremy for the first time in almost a year.

  He looked the same as usual, his serious face still wreathed in a welcoming smile. He looked like his younger brother, that wastrel Nick, but with far more dignity. The ridiculous mop of golden hair and ruthlessly blue eyes were the same, though. He was glad he hadn’t brought Matilda. Women went quite idiotic over Jeremy’s looks, and the thought of her mouth dropping open when she saw him made him feel something he didn’t like at all.

  “I didn’t plan for your visit, so there won’t be a ball or any parties in your honor, Lord Ashford,” Jeremy said. “You’ll have to put up with just me and my sister this time.”

  Ashford laughed at his friend’s jest. He knew him well enough to know that a ball or any special suppers would be torture to him. He was pleased to hear that one of his sisters was in residence, though. He enjoyed the company of all five of Jeremy’s sisters.

  “Which one?” he asked, following Jeremy to the rooms he always stayed in when he visited.

  “Thea,” he replied. “She’s off her first season, and it was a complete bust. For a moment I thought I might have to duel someone. She’s heartbroken, so be on your guard. She may want to console herself with you.”

  He struggled to place Thea, she was one of the youngest, probably seventeen by now. She’d always been a charming, cheerful lass, completely demure and well-mannered, so he found it hard to believe her first season had almost ended in a duel. “Good heavens, how did I miss all that?”

  “Even when you’re around, you’re not really around, old chap,” Jeremy said, his tone light, but his words serious. “People are beginning to talk, you know.”

  He tilted his head to the side, wondering why Duncan hadn’t warned him about gossip about himself. He was supposed to keep him apprised of these things, so he could do damage control. Hopping around from one century to the next, he couldn’t always concentrate on the meandering, meaningless conversations at the parties he was forced to go to as second Earl of Ashford and Happenham.

  He knew he’d have to marry eventually, or how else could he have all those blighted antecedents he was constantly avoiding, or knocking out? If he didn’t keep up his reputation as a viable marriage option, he was risking all those people’s lives. God, he wanted a bath, and some whisky, and something to eat.

  “I’ll do better,” he said tiredly.

  “Also, Nick sent word you’re keeping some tart from America? Got in quite a huff about her?”

  He scowled at Jeremy’s expectant look, wondering exactly how Nick had spun that tale. “She’s not a tart. I’ll explain it all later. I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear the truth of it.”

  Jeremy shoved him through his chamber door. “Rest a bit, then we’ll talk more. And I’m serious about Thea. Don’t even think about flirting with her, even in jest. Not in her current state of mind. Unless you want to marry her?” His hopeful tone alarmed Ashford.

  “What could be so bad that you’re willing to give her to me?”

  “Wait and see, mate.”

  Jeremy shut the door, and Ashford quickly put it out of his mind, peeling off his dusty road clothes and falling face first into the bed.

  A hot bath and some tea revived him enough to drag himself down to supper. He paused in front of the sitting room where he knew Jeremy and Thea would be gathered and forced a smile onto his face before entering. A vase smashed into the wall a foot from his face, and he stood there grinning fearfully as bellows erupted from the center of the room.

  “Dorothea Antoinette Kerr, that vase was seventy years old.” Jeremy shook his head at Ashford as the sobbing girl picked up another and made to throw it at her brother.

  Ashford covered the space to her in two long strides and plucked the rare porcelain out of her hand. She clenched her fist and socked him in the stomach before turning on her brother.

  “You’ll never keep me here. You won’t deny me my love and you can’t destroy my life this way,” she screamed, running from the room.

  Jeremy sank into a chair and let his head drop forward in defeat.

  “What have you done to Thea?” Ashford asked, straightening up and hobbling to the sideboard to pour them drinks. It seemed as if Jeremy needed whisky as badly as he did. “How are you destroying her life?”

  Jeremy’s head flew up, his eyes shooting fire. Ashford tutted and handed him a glass, which he took gratefully.

  “It’s the bastard who wanted to marry her. I’ve got guards prowling the countryside in case he tries to get on the property, but he managed to get a letter through to her, sent along with some things she left behind in London. Now she’s all in a flurry again. Ah, if I had only thought to search the post.”

  “I thought you said her season was a bust. But it seems she got the one offer at least.”

  Jeremy looked as if he wanted to throw something. “He’s completely destitute, in debt up to his lovely green eyes. He’s also fifteen years older than her, and word came back to me he was married once before, which I’m trying to verify. He tried to get Thea to elope, but I found out and whisked her away, so I wouldn’t have to kill the pile of excrement.”

  “Haven’t you told her about the debt?”

  Jeremy laughed. “Didn’t you hear her? It’s a love that won’t be denied. She thinks it’s perfectly fine to pay off his debts, and won’t hear a word against him. If I can just find his first wife, she might come to her senses, but in the meantime, I’m trying to keep the breakables out of her reach.”

  The bell rang for supper and they looked at each other. “Will she come down again?” Ashford asked nervously.

  “Oh, yes. She takes every opportunity to make me wretched. I can have them send you up a plate if you don’t feel up to it.”

  Ashford’s first instinct was to take the cowardly way out and retreat back to his room, but shook his head. “I shall stay by your side,” he said bravely. “Perhaps I can make her see reason.”

  In the dining room Thea’s eyes and nose were red, and she sniffled theatrically between bites, though her appetite seemed healthy enough for one so heartbroken.

  “You’re looking lovely, Thea,” Ashford said. “I regret I was too busy to be able to see you much during your visit to London.”

  It was the truth. Perhaps if he’d been around more, he could have helped Jeremy keep the wolves at bay. Jeremy choked on his bread, and looked fearfully at Thea’s reaction.

  She made a disparaging sound and ignored them both, while Jeremy grumbled about her manners.

  “Do you still sing?” Ashford tried again after the soup was taken away.

  She hiccuped into a piece of bread. “Not anymore,” she said. “I have no more songs in my heart.”

  “Good God,” Jeremy muttered, taking a long swallow of wine.

  Ashford suppressed a laugh and nodded with solemnity. “I too, felt there was no more music in me for the longest time. Do you recall how I used to accompany you on the pianoforte as you sang?” He looked apologetically at Jeremy, who gave him a murderous glare.

  Thea looked at him suspiciously but nodded. “I suppose so. Maybe you did that one time?”

  “Was it only one time?” Ashford had to take a drink of his wine to be able to continue. “It must have made a deep impression on me, as it’s one of my happiest memories.”

  He forced himself to stare deeply into her red-rimmed eyes, and prayed silently for Jeremy’s forgiveness. Jeremy slammed his fork onto the table, but Thea leaned over her plate, forgetting for a moment to sniffle or moan.

  “I was hoping to hear your lovely voice again while I was here,” he continued, “but if you’re not up for it, I understand.” He glanced one last time at Jeremy, hoping he wouldn’t be tossed from the house. “It�
�s been so long since I’ve had any desire to play, but the thought of your singing has rekindled it.”

  “My singing?” she asked, practically crawling over the table to his side. “Has rekindled your desire?”

  “Enough,” boomed Jeremy. “Go to your room, young lady. Nothing’s getting rekindled tonight.”

  She took her napkin from her lap and flung it at him, then narrowed her eyes at Ashford. “I’ll be in the music room whenever you’re finished.” She stood and turned to Jeremy. “You can’t keep me from singing. Are you really that cruel?” She didn’t wait for an answer and flounced dramatically from the room.

  “Brilliant work,” he said bitterly, then paused. “Though she only chucked the napkin and not something that would hurt, and she wasn’t actually crying this time when she left.”

  “You’re welcome,” Ashford said, tucking into his meal. “The Julian Alexander charm is always available to any of your sisters, should they need it.”

  “I should beat you half to death and leave you on the road back to your own property, but I suppose I’d rather her mope about over you than that scoundrel.”

  “I only know three songs on the pianoforte, and they’re all very romantic. You needn’t trouble yourself to listen if you don’t want to.”

  “Do you want the beating?” Jeremy asked incredulously. “Have all your family troubles finally caused you to go off the deep end?”

  Being forcefully reminded of why he was there deflated his relaxed mood. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, no longer hungry. He’d been having a good time for those few minutes, felt young and carefree for the first time in ages, but now he felt his old sour self. No wonder Matilda was always frowning at him, he must be terrible company. What if he tried to flirt with her in earnest, not just to keep her from arguing with him, what would her reaction be? It wasn’t worth thinking about. No matter how he tried to keep reality at bay, he knew he had to find out what Jeremy knew. His gut twisted and he finished his wine.

  “Let’s have it, then,” he said.

  “The beating?” Jeremy smiled, and nodded. “I know, I know. Don’t scowl so, you’ll hurt yourself.”

  “You have news of my sister from when you were in France?”

  Jeremy looked at him for a long moment, as if mulling over what to say. “I’m going to be a bounder and ask for a favor in return,” he said regretfully.

  “Anything,” Ashford said before the request was completely spoken.

  “You have to agree in advance, and you’re not going to like it.”

  “I’ve already agreed,” he said, impatient now. Did Jeremy not trust his word? Did no one trust him anymore?

  “You’re going to want to run out of here when you hear what I have to say, but I implore you not to. Stay with us for a bit. You’re good for Thea. Cajole her out of her imagined one true love, and you’ll be forever in my debt.”

  “You’ll be forever in my debt if you stop prattling and get to what I want to hear.”

  Ashford was already itching to leave, he planned to do so that very night, but now it looked like he really would be gone the full fortnight he had told Matilda.

  He not only wanted to spring into action with whatever information Jeremy had about Camilla but he couldn’t stop worrying about Matilda as well. Every moment he was away from her was a moment she could get herself into trouble. Kostya knew to keep an eye on her, but he had the estate to run. He worried Serena wouldn’t be kind to her when he wasn’t there to impress. He sighed forcefully, dragging himself back to the dining table and Jeremy’s anxious face.

  “I’ll stay and entertain your sister.”

  “Thank you,” Jeremy said. “I do feel quite bad about imposing—”

  Ashford cut him off with a sharp sound, reaching for the bottle of wine in the middle of the table and refilling his glass. He drained it before answering.

  “How long have I known you? Stop insulting me with such nonsense. Your family is as mine.”

  Jeremy also refilled his glass and Ashford kept a tight rein on his temper.

  “May I speak frankly?” Jeremy finally asked, looking more nervous than when he’d requested Ashford to stay.

  His oldest friend rarely looked so distressed and Ashford clenched his fists, fearing what he was about to hear, not wanting to know, but needing to.

  “Of course. Speak freely.”

  He cleared his throat. “The man Camilla took up with, Donal Blair, correct?”

  “Yes. What about him?”

  Even though he’d assured Jeremy he could speak freely, Ashford couldn’t help the clipped tone of his voice. Everyone knew about his sister’s affair, and everyone pretended not to to his face, of course talking incessantly about it behind his back.

  Jeremy faltered for a moment before answering. “He was with her, in Rouleney. I saw him with Camilla. It was late, and dark, but I tell you this on my honor. It was them.”

  “That’s impossible,” Ashford said. “I don’t doubt what you think you saw, but you know it’s impossible.”

  “I’ve barely slept since that day, Julian. Since then I fear I’ve gone quite mad, but that day I was in my complete right mind, and my vision was clear. It was only all this mess with Thea that prevented me from getting to you sooner, as I know how tormented you’ve been.”

  “You only saw her? She didn’t speak to you?”

  “I called her name and she stopped, a fair way ahead of me. After a moment, she turned, and the lad did as well. She took his arm and they hurried away. I— forgive me for not following them.”

  Ashford nodded. “It’s all right, old friend, calm yourself. This is very helpful.”

  “Do you believe me?”

  Ashford nodded, though he didn’t believe him. Couldn’t. It was impossible that he’d seen his sister with her lover. How could Jeremy have seen a dead man?

  Chapter 19

  Tilly took the somewhat lumpy leather ball and bounced it into the packed earth square beside the barn she’d deemed perfect for her makeshift basketball court. The groomsman who’d worked on making it the past two days looked expectantly at her.

  “It’s perfect,” she said, even though it wasn’t nearly as bouncy as a modern ball.

  The fact that there was a straw basket hanging from the side of the barn and Kostya, Serena, several servants and two villagers actually wanted to play with her made her giddy with happiness.

  She’d not only spent the last eleven days getting an entire new wardrobe, she’d actually given in and made some very pretty handkerchiefs. It only took two days for her to admit to herself that she enjoyed needlework, and that she was only spiting herself by refusing to join Serena when she visited every morning and set to work.

  Serena had been difficult at first, stiff and unwilling to say much beside answer questions as tersely as she could, though she had been surprisingly enthusiastic in helping with the dressmaker. Tilly whittled away at her, drawing her portrait while she wasn’t paying attention, then doing more sketches when Serena had been delighted by the likeness. It pained Tilly that she hadn’t even had to cheat and make her prettier like she often did when she drew her friends or her mom. Serena couldn’t draw at all and was insatiable in her requests: her dogs, a still life of roses, a caricature of Kostya that made her sides split with laughter before she guiltily stuffed it in her bag when Kostya came in, curious about the noise.

  They gossiped daily over their needlework, and took long walks around the vast property, sometimes visiting with the other neighbors or villagers. She longed to know about Ashford as a child, but she honestly liked Serena the more she got to know her, and the one thing that put her off was questions about him, so Tilly kept quiet, eagerly accepting any odd scrap. They’d tried to fly a kite one day, but lost it to a tree, and she found out the first time Ashford ever made a kite, it had ended much the same way.

  Serena had pointed to a massive old tree, its thick branches winding up higher than she could see through its leaves.


  “He tried to climb up to get it free, even though we’d been told dozens of times to keep our feet on the ground. It was a general rule of their mother’s, since both he and Cammie liked to climb things— fences, roofs, whatever they could. He fell flat on his back and knocked himself out, and I was sobbing, thinking he was dead, but Cammie hollered the whole time he wasn’t. ‘He’ll wish he was if he doesna wake up, for mum will beat him for climbing if we have to go fetch help’.”

  Tilly had laughed at the childish sisterly fears. “She was more worried about getting in trouble than her brother’s safety. That sounds about right, I guess.”

  Serena had shaken her head. “No, she said his bum was in too much pain for him to be dead. They always had that singular thing between them where they could feel each other’s pain. I always thought it so terrible while being oddly jealous at the same time. I have no siblings.”

  It had taken all she had not to beg for more stories while they waited for a kitchen lad to scramble after their kite, but merely added that she was an only child as well, briefly mentioning Dex.

  “We took turns visiting each other every summer and spent most Christmases together. He’s as good as a brother.”

  Serena had nodded. “That’s how I feel about Julian and Cammie. Felt about Cammie,” she’d corrected herself, then frowned bitterly, distorting her flawless face. “Though I don’t think it was ever reciprocated. By either of them.”

  The kite was rescued and Tilly was never offered such a glimpse into the past again.

  She was fascinated by daily life on the estate. The land stretched seemingly endlessly in every direction. She learned to make butter and impressed Kostya with her almost forgotten fishing skills, something she hadn’t done since her father was alive. It was pure luck she caught anything at all, and used all her willpower not to shriek when she hauled it into the rowboat with them, even though it flopped terrifyingly until Kostya ruthlessly whacked it.

  The villagers were cautiously polite with her, until she learned a thief had broken into the small silversmith shop and stolen some valuable items. Mr. Macrae, the shop owner, had a strong inkling who the culprit was, but no proof. Tilly and Serena had been in town early to pick up some bonnets and Tilly was appalled that he was going to wipe down the counter and put the overturned displays away as if nothing had happened.