A few minutes later, Anne realized that sponsoring a young miss in her first season might not go as smoothly as she'd wished. Miss Bywater sent her regrets, but she wasn't feeling well, and thought that she might rest.
"Is she ill?" Anne asked Thomas, who'd relayed the message.
Thomas, who'd been born on the estate at Gostwicke Hall, the family home of the Eardleys, was 30, and older than most footmen. Anne had offered him the position as her personal footman because she knew that he was completely loyal to her and the family. He shook his head, his frank blue eyes sparkling. "I think not, ma'am — at a guess, I'd say she's shy."
Anne rubbed the back of her neck. "Very well. Send Mrs. Douglas and Eva's maid to me."
Beatie turned out to be young and small, with brown hair and eyes. Anne struggled not to show her anger at Lady Fraser for sending such an unsuitable maid with her daughter. A maid moreover who wore a faded brown rag, which judging by the hem marks, had been let down twice.
She raised her eyebrows at Mrs. Douglas, who nodded quickly. "Beatie will have two new dresses by the end of the day, ma'am."
"Good. Now, Beatie… You shall tell your mistress that I don't bite. At all — at least I never have, until now. Eva may breakfast in her room, then bathe. She will attend on me in two hours. We're visiting Madame Lola's. Go, now."
The girl flushed bright red, and hurried from the room.
"I'm sorry, ma'am. Oh — and Lord Wallwood's flowers arrived. I gave orders to send them back at once, of course."
"No need for apologies, just see to the child's dress, Mrs. Douglas. That will be all."
Flowers. Again… would he never give up?
Anne forced herself to remain calm. Wallwood sent her flowers every single day. She'd accepted the first bunch — why not? Quite unexceptional, that bunch… A small gift of welcome to Berkeley Square, she'd imagined.
Unfortunately, her imagination hadn't stretched to flowers sent daily, sometimes twice a day. Large bunches arrived arranged in crystal vases. Smaller offerings overflowed porcelain or Wedgwood jasper ware. And tiny nosegays appeared, left on Kingston House's front steps at all hours… The flowers were refused; the maids enjoyed the nosegays.
He'd gone beyond flowers in the first week. Gifts arrived, always wrapped in expensive embroidered silk, several times a week. The servants had orders to refuse everything, and she'd remonstrated with Wallwood herself. He agreed charmingly that she was completely correct. She couldn't accept anything, but — he looked down bashfully — he couldn't help sending her tiny tokens of his esteem.
A wretched man, and Anne had never felt so harassed. She hadn't told Catherine of Wallwood's flowers and gifts. It would only worry her. What could she do? She longed to hit him over his foolish skull with the flowers and gifts, but she was a lady. Surely, eventually, he'd grow tired of plaguing her, and would turn his attention to a more willing woman.
Eleven o'clock came and went. No Eva.
Anne waited in the library. Ready to go shopping, she'd changed into a pale blue walking dress of Gros de Naples, ornamented with frills of Mechlin lace at the throat. She'd tossed her bonnet of dark blue velvet onto the library table in front of her account books.
The horses were put to in preparation for Anne's order to bring the carriage around from the mews.
A tap at the door, and Mrs. Douglas entered with Beatie. "My lady, Lord Delmere has called — Mr. Weston took him into the drawing room."
Anne nodded. "Thank you. What is it, Beatie? Is your mistress ready?"
Beatie's hands, tightly clenched at her waist, revealed her anxiety. Her words came out in a rush. "Please, my lady, Miss Eva said to say that she's not well, and will keep to her rooms today, if you please, ma'am."
Anne realized that Beatie had memorized the sentence. She smiled gently at the small maid. Perhaps she'd keep her in town. "Thank you, Beatie. You may tell Eva that I shall visit her later."
She turned to Mrs. Douglas. "Is the girl unwell?"
The housekeeper waited until the maid had left. Then she shook her head. "No, my lady. She made a good breakfast — she's healthy enough." She paused.
"Go on."
Mrs. Douglas cleared her throat. "It's not my place to say, ma'am."
"Say on, do," Anne waved her hand impatiently. "What ails her?"
The housekeeper stared at the carpet. Finally, she spoke. "I heard her talking to Beatie. She means to go home — she's no wish to be in town, nor to have a season. She said she wouldn't be here if her horses were not… But she leaves us as soon as she can."
"Well…" Anne blinked. That wasn't what she'd expected. "Send word to unharness the team, for now. And send some tea to the drawing room."
Lord Delmere had spent several days traveling with Eva. Perhaps he had an insight into the young lady.
Thomas opened the drawing room doors, then followed Anne inside. After waiting a moment for Three to follow Anne, Thomas closed the doors, then stood at ease beside them.
Yesterday, Anne mused, she'd imagined that Lord Delmere wasn't handsome. Today, when he turned around to look at her, she realized that he was. Moreover, his dark brown eyes wandering over her person heated her. She frowned, not understanding the effect he had on her.
"My lord, so kind of you to call."
He turned. He'd been standing at the long windows, looking out on the park. "Lady Kingston." He smiled, and bowed. "You are in looks, ma'am, so I've no need to ask if you are well. Miss Bywater is recovering from our journey?"
Three ran across to Delmere, then sat herself politely at his feet, waiting for his acknowledgement. He grinned, and bent down to pat the dog.
Anne sat on the sofa closest to the windows. "Please be seated my lord… indeed, I am well, I thank you. Could I — may I impose on you?"
"You could never impose," he said gallantly. He sat down in a chair opposite her.
She couldn't help it. Her eyebrows lifted. He dwarfed the chair. She smoothed her countenance, realizing that she was being impolite. He smiled slightly.
Three followed him to the chair, then once again sat at his feet.
"How may I serve you?"
"It's Eva." She hesitated. She didn't know how to ask. Then she told herself that Lord Delmere was an experienced man. A decade older than she, she knew he'd been in the army, so she could trust his estimation of someone's character, even if that someone were a young lady.
"Yes?"
"How did you find my niece? She barely spoke last evening at dinner. I'd thought it the effect of travel. Now she's decided that she means to keep to her rooms today. She sent word she's unwell. I know that she's quite well… But she doesn't want to be in town, my housekeeper tells me."
Mr. Weston entered the room, a footman following him with a tray.
Lord Delmere remained silent until Thomas had closed the door on the other servants. Anne poured the tea, and handed Delmere his cup.
"Thank you. Now, about Miss Bywater…" He shook his head, obviously reluctant to go on.
"My lord, I have the guardianship of that young lady while she's in town. She may be of age, but she doesn't come into her fortune until she's 25, or marries." She smiled, but without amusement. "So tell me what you think of her character, I beg."
"Lady Fraser told me something about her daughter, in confidence, and I can't — "
She could understand his reluctance if he didn't want to betray confidences, and waved her hand. "No, I don't wish you to share anything that her ladyship wished for your ears alone. I ask merely how Eva seems to you."
He laughed. "Very well. Eva Bywater presents as a shy young person, but it's my belief that she's anything but that. You'll have your hands full with her."
He looked quite cheerful at the thought. She frowned. "It appears she doesn't she want a season — why?"
"Miss Bywater loves Yorkshire, ma'am. She can be scathing about southerners…" he looked at her steadily. "She wishes to go back. Why not send her back? You're too young to be bother
ed with a recalcitrant miss. You can't be older than Miss Bywater — do you have children?"
"I'm 25, and without children," she said shortly. To her horror, she felt her face heat. She cleared her throat.
His eyes widened at her discomfort. Obviously appalled that he'd upset her, he said slowly: "I don't know what story Lady Fraser spun, ma'am… But I promise you she's quite able to bring her daughter to town. She hasn't done that for three years, and that should tell you something…" He paused, and looked at her significantly, with his eyebrows raised.
She was expected to infer something from the three years Lady Fraser had kept Eva in Yorkshire?
Anne stood, then walked to the windows and stared out onto the park. Why wait to give her daughter a season? "If I understand you," she said slowly, "Edwina never wanted to bring out Eva — no doubt because of the expense. But something happened recently, so she thought a season would answer?"
She glanced at him over her shoulder. He remained impassive. So, she was right. She turned back to the window. The park was busier. Two nursery maids and their charges were just entering the park's gates below. "Well then," she said slowly, thinking it through. "If Edwina wants her daughter far away — it appears that I'm to distract an unwilling girl with a London season, and ensure that she receives an offer. "
Suddenly her eyes widened. She lifted up her hand to the window, and peered out. Oh no, there he was again, looking up directly at her — with a spyglass, of all things — and he could see her, because she'd moved the curtains. She backed away from the window so quickly that she stumbled.
Lord Delmere jumped up and upset his chair. He crossed the room to her, and took her arm, supporting her back with his other hand until he was sure that she was steady on her feet. "My lady?"
She felt his touch ripple through her body. She drew her arm away, and glanced up at him in embarrassment. "I tripped on the carpet."
He released her. After studying her for a moment, he walked to the window, pushed the curtains aside, and looked out.
Anne returned to the sofa. She sat and folded her hands in her lap. Delmere must think her odd, she thought.
"There's a man out there in the park with a spyglass. Who is he?"
Anne colored, and stared down at her dress, pleating the skirt. "A birdwatcher, I imagine," she said mendaciously.
She had no intention of complaining of Wallwood to Delmere. It was bad enough that the servants knew. Not merely her own servants either. Of course it had caused talk. No doubt every servant in every house in Berkeley Square knew about Wallwood's obsession with her. She groaned inwardly.
If Delmere became aware of it, she would be well on her way to becoming a feature of ton gossip. From there, it was a short step to tittle tattle in the gossip sheets, which would enrage Catherine.
Delmere took his chair again. He rested his elbows on the arms of his chair and steepled his long fingers.
When she looked at him, he nodded to her, and his lips quirked up at the corners. "From what I know of Miss Bywater, she isn't one for clothes and frippery. But she loves her horses. They might be the sugar which coats the bitter pill of a London season, perhaps?"
Relieved that he'd dropped the topic of the man with a spyglass, she nodded. "Yes, I've a couple of her hacks in the mews. I wonder…" She rubbed her forehead, thinking. Finally she shook her head. "No, no. It wouldn't suit."
"Ma'am?"
"My sister Henry — Henrietta — is away at school. Henry's horse-mad. She can ride anything, and knows everyone in the racing world, through our brother by marriage, Lord Linton. I had a notion to send for her. She could stay until we all leave for the Christmas season at Gostwicke Hall. But it wouldn't do, Henry's just 15."
No, Anne thought, sending for Henry would be useless. Not only was Henry too young to become Eva's bosom friend, Henry preferred the stables to the drawing room. Catherine had sent her away to school because Henry, in breeches, had worked as a groom for years at The Oaks before Mrs. Eardley realized.
Delmere stood, and ambled towards the window again.
He was suspicious. Anne frowned at his broad back as he moved the curtains aside, and stared out. Leaning forward, he braced his hands on the window ledge.
Anne held her breath. She didn't know what to say — did he know Wallwood?
Finally he turned back to her. "Might I make a suggestion, my lady?"
"Of course."
"I imagine you've a lot to do, to prepare Miss Bywater for her season. But that's months away — March next year, I expect?"
Anne shrugged. "Yes, certainly, but we'll be busy before we return to Gostwicke Hall. Eva requires a town wardrobe, of course. Lady Jane Vernon will tutor her, and I wish to take Eva into company, as well. She won't be out, but small parties would be unexceptional. Lady Merrill remains in town, and is eager to meet Eva."
He leaned casually back against the window ledge. He folded his arms, and crossed his ankles. "Would you and Miss Bywater join me in the park early tomorrow? Perhaps it would help her to find her feet — riding is something that she enjoys. It might help her to look on you as a friend, rather than as a jailer.”
She saw the sense of that. "Yes, that's good advice. It's my hope we'll become friends, so the horses could help."
He smiled, walked across the room to her, and bent over her hand. "Until tomorrow morning in the park, then. Eight o'clock? A pleasure, my lady."
Thomas opened the drawing room doors, and bowed to Lord Delmere.
Delmere turned in the doorway. "Lord Wallwood. In the park with a spyglass," he said. "I'll call on him — his house is just next door." He smiled at her, and Thomas closed the doors behind him.
2
Next morning Eva was all smiles when she came downstairs. She curtsied to Anne, who managed to maintain her own her smile.
Anne had sisters, so she knew young ladies, and she understood high temperament. Anne didn't comment on the fact that Eva hadn't appeared the previous day, other than to say that she was glad that she saw her in looks.
Anne's grooms had taken the horses to the park. When they arrived Delmere was already there. He helped them from the carriage. His hand was very warm and and she released it quickly.
He made her feel uncomfortable but she had no idea why that should be so. She liked him. He seemed a kind gentleman. He had to be very busy and yet he had made time to visit, and to ride with them. She was grateful.
Eva cheered up when she saw her horses. She spoke to the grooms about the horses' journey from the north, then used the mounting block to step lightly into the saddle. Anne had never seen anyone with a better seat. Not even Henry. Of all the Eardley sisters, Henry rode the best, but Eva was the better rider.
Eva had two horses to exercise, so she asked Anne whether she might ride with her groom, and Anne nodded.
"You're wary of her," Delmere said to Anne a few minutes later. He rode a tall hack, gleaming coal black, with a star in the center of his forehead. The horse danced, mouthing his bit. Delmere allowed him to play.
"Yes I am… I don't want to misstep — I'm looking at Eva as if she's a lit firecracker at the moment," Anne admitted. "It's foolishness — after all, what has she done? Nothing at all, other than to spend a day in her rooms."
"I still suggest that you send her back to her mother."
"Indeed not. Lady Fraser sent Eva to me, I've agreed to bring her out, and I shall do so. Eva might not want to be in London, but the experience will do her the world of good."
"I called on Lord Wallwood yesterday. He said that you and he have an understanding."
Anne stared at him. "Your pardon — what?"
"I wanted to know why he was staring at your house with a spyglass."
"And he said…?"
"He said he wasn't looking at your house. Which was nonsense, because I saw him. I gave him to understand that he was not to spy on you. Is he causing problems?"
She shrugged. "He sends flowers. And gifts. He's asked me to marry him, but
I have refused him."
He looked at her carefully for a moment.
She tried to remain calm but couldn't help becoming annoyed. "I assure you that I gave the man no encouragement at all. He doesn't seem able to understand that I don't want his flowers, his gifts or his company — and we certainly do not have an understanding."
He chuckled. "The man's besotted. Well, I can't blame him for that, my lady, but you must tell me if he continues spying on your house. That's beyond anything."
Anne pursed her lips. "Lord Delmere, please don't —"
"You think I shouldn't interfere?"
Of course she didn't want him to interfere. She tried to stem her irritation. Instead of answering, she nudged her mount into a trot, then into a canter.
It wasn't Delmere's place to twit Wallwood about his foolishness. She was a woman who lived alone, and needed friends, rather than enemies and gossip. She'd taken charge of a young lady about to embark on her first season. The last thing she needed was Wallwood's enmity. He knew too many people.
Lady Jane Vernon arrived in a post chaise at noon. Anne had met her several times, and hoped that they might become friends.
Anne took her into the drawing room, and gave orders for refreshments.
Lady Jane was tall, and wore an elegant pale cream carriage dress, with a scarlet pelisse. A short ruff ornamented the dress's neck, with the same lace used to trim the bonnet.
Anne knew that she was the youngest daughter of Lord Kennystowe, who'd spent his life rafting on the river Tick. Without a dowery, and with an impecunious father, Lady Jane had never married. She travelled from one wealthy household to another, welcome everywhere, but at home nowhere.
"People hire her to help bring out their daughters," Catherine had told Anne. "She's paid rather a lot of money, not into her hands, of course, but paid to her man of business. It's money well spent, if you can afford it."
Anne could afford it. So, Anne had dutifully called on Lady Jane's man of business, and hired Lady Jane. She'd been informed that Lady Jane had many calls on her time. A sad death in the family of her next debutante-to-be had freed her, so that she was at liberty, and could prepare Miss Bywater for her season.
The Lady And The Man Of Fortune: A Wicked Secret: The Eardleys Of Gostwicke Hall, Book 3 Page 2
