As he went back downstairs he wondered whether bribery, such as a promise to let them both have kittens, would be effective in making them behave politely towards Joanna. Well, he thought optimistically, now the governess who had so maliciously tried to harm Joanna had gone, things might improve.
*
It was not until after supper that Sir Kenelm found time to read the Leeds newspapers. Joanna had begun embroidering a chair cover, saying she wanted to replace those in the breakfast room first, for they were the most worn, so he turned to the newspapers, a glass of brandy on a small table beside him. He turned a page, and what he read caused him to sit up, with a sharp exclamation, and the brandy glass fell to the floor.
'Kenelm? What is it?' Joanna asked. 'Oh, do be careful, the glass has broken.'
'Never mind the glass. There is a report here about a Captain Thomas. Wasn't that the name of the man who cheated your father?'
'Yes, but it might be a different one. It is a common name. But what does it say?'
'He was found at a house out on the moors, locked in a cellar, bound and gagged. His cheek had been branded with the letter C, and a letter was pinned to his coat saying it stood for cheat. He was accused of cheating at cards, and it was also said he had a reputation for fuzzing the cards. Of course he denied it, but it sounds like the same man.'
Joanna shivered. 'It does. Who could have done that to him? It must have been excessively painful!'
'Don't waste your sympathy on him. We know he ruined your father, and apparently other men too, who did this to him. Unfortunately this has reminded people of your father's death, and they have not only included the details, they have mentioned our marriage.'
Joanna looked devastated, and he hastened on.
'They don't give the names, but just initials. However, anyone who knows about your father or us will understand.'
'What can we do?' she asked, putting down her embroidery and stretching out a hand to take the newspaper. She swiftly scanned the account he pointed out to her, then placed the paper carefully on a table beside her.
'Nothing, I'm afraid. It is wiser not to comment. What they say is true, and if we object it will simply drag the story out for longer. Let us hope something else takes their attention next week, and soon it will be Christmas. Did you and Mrs Aston settle everything for Henry's visit?'
Joanna took a moment to bring her thoughts back to this.
'Yes, I think so, and we and Cook have planned the menus, except we don't know exactly how long Henry and Albinia will be staying. Cook says it will not matter, and Mrs Aston believes Albinia will cry off, saying she is too ill, or tired, or cannot face the journey.'
'I don't think Henry will permit that. He says Harry is asking every day when he will be coming to stay with his big cousins.'
'I hope I won't let you down. As hostess, I mean.'
'You acted as your father's hostess in Portugal, you once said.'
Joanna shrugged. 'A dinner party in an army camp, in a tent or, if we were fortunate, a requisitioned cottage, is rather different from being a hostess in a house like this!'
'You will do very well, my dear. Don't worry. It's only family, and the rector and his wife,' he added, which did not calm Joanna's nerves.
She knew Albinia would be critical, especially if she had read the Intelligencer and knew about her father's ruin and suicide. She would be sure to ask questions about how she and Sir Kenelm had met. Joanna knew he went to London only occasionally, and had not been for at least a year, and Albinia would know this, and be suspicious. They could not have met there. He could not have met her other than in Leeds, unless their attachment had been very long standing, and if it had been, why had he kept it a secret? Had Henry told her of his suggestion Sir Kenelm advertised for a wife, and would she think that was what had happened? It was marginally more believable than the truth, though she felt considerable reluctance to permit Albinia, or anyone, to think she was so desperate for a husband she would answer any such advertisement.
'I'll ring for someone to clear away the glass,' she said. 'Do you want more brandy?'
Sir Kenelm seemed engrossed in reading the papers, having turned now to the later edition.
'No, thank you.'
'Then I will say goodnight.'
It had been a busy day, and this later news, the revival of people's memories about her father's suicide, was irritating. She had much to think about.
*
On the following day Sir Kenelm, leaving Joanna a message to say he had some business in Leeds, drove out as soon as it was light, so Joanna did not see him at breakfast. Firbank told her it had been a sudden decision, and he hoped to be back in time for dinner.
Later that day Joanna was on her way from the kitchens, where she had been consulting with Cook, hurrying because she needed to change her dress before dinner, when she encountered a stranger in the entrance hall. He was carrying a riding whip, and about to deposit that and a dashing beaver hat on a table. He was tall and slim, with dark hair cut short. His riding coat fitting him like a glove, and his breeches showing strong, muscular legs. He was grinning at her, revealing white, even teeth. A faint scar on one cheek did not in the least detract from his good looks, and his dark brown eyes were twinkling in appreciation.
Neither Firbank nor the footman was in evidence. How had he come into the house? Directly from the stable yard, she assumed. She was wearing the grey gown in which she had been married, and knew it made her look drab. She wished she was dressed in one of her newer gowns, for they would give her a good deal more confidence.
'Who are you, and how did you get into the house?' she demanded.
He was inspecting her with an amused look.
'You're new here,' he stated, ignoring her questions.
'Yes, I – ' Joanna began, and then gasped as he moved towards her and put an arm round her waist.
'A mighty fetching addition to the household. Kenelm is showing more taste than I expected of him.'
'Sir! How dare you? Let me go!'
'I can dare a good deal more than this. I won't let you go, not without a forfeit, my pretty,' he said, laughing and pulling her towards him despite her struggles.
She twisted her head away as he bent towards her, wondering where everyone was, and whether, if she screamed, anyone would come and rescue her. And whether she wanted to be found in this undignified situation.
She was saved when Sir Kenelm stepped into the hall, also coming from the stables. He was wearing his driving coat, carried his whip, and his cheeks were flushed from the cold. Would he use the whip on this impertinent stranger who still hadn't let her go?
'I thought it might be you I was following up the drive. You did not inform us you were in the country, Matthew. And, by the way, please unhand my wife.'
Joanna found herself suddenly released, and would have fallen if Sir Kenelm had not stepped towards her and put his arm round her waist. It was a far more comforting feel than that of the stranger.
Her wits began to work. 'Matthew? Then, you must be Sir Kenelm's brother, the one in the army?'
He bowed, not in the least discomposed.
'Your wife?' he asked, looking at Sir Kenelm and raising his eyebrows. 'Then, my lady, I crave your pardon. I quite thought you were one of the maids. In that dress,' he added, and Joanna fumed with annoyance.
'Whatever I am wearing, and you should know it is because of my father's recent death, it does not give you licence to assault anyone in this house! Especially a maid,' she added, and flushed in annoyance as Matthew burst into laughter. 'I – I am responsible for them,' she said, and wondered to what extent she would need to carry out that responsibility if Matthew were to remain for long in the house. Somehow she did not feel quite ready for it.
She glanced at Sir Kenelm. He was looking amused, and he gave her a swift hug.
'Well said, my dear.'
Matthew was still laughing as he sketched a deep bow.
'I apologise. And commend your
taste, brother mine. But why did you not inform me of your nuptials? I had no idea, when I last heard from you, that you were contemplating matrimony. Indeed, I thought you had renounced it entirely and were reconciled to a lonely old age.'
'As you can see, Matthew, I have not. But for how long can we enjoy your presence?'
'Just a few weeks, depending on the weather. I must not be marooned up here. But if I have offended my lady too greatly I can remove my unwelcome self to Leeds, and return to London tomorrow.'
'Don't be a fool. I'm glad to see you, and doubtless Joanna will accept your apologies. Go and change now,' he added to her. 'I will find my deplorable young brother somewhere to lay his head, after he has had a glass of wine with me. Perhaps one of the attics? A cold, draughty one. And a straw palliasse. He must be used to worse accommodation in the army.'
Joanna fled, hearing the two of them laughing as Sir Kenelm took his brother into the library. Her cheeks were burning, and she wondered how she could face Matthew again. He would be here for Christmas. Henry and his family were due on the following day. She had barely seen the twins since Miss Busby's departure. The story of her father's ruin would be known by everyone in Yorkshire. Suddenly there were too many problems, and she half wished she had not succumbed to Sir Kenelm's persuasions and agreed to this false marriage. She would have managed, somehow, she tried to convince herself, while knowing it was untrue. She would have suffered hardship and humiliation, at best. She did not wish to even think of what might have been the worst. Was it preferable to be here, enjoying his generosity, but trapped in a marriage that was no proper marriage, when every day made her realise she was falling in love with him? Could she maintain the polite coolness he demanded, especially when he touched her as he had that night he had kissed her, and just now when he had put his arm round her and held her closely?
*
Joanna, feeling the need for correcting the drab impression she must have made in her grey gown, dressed in her rose-coloured one. She tried to ignore Betsy's excited chatter about Mr Matthew's unexpected visit. He seemed to be a favourite with the female members of the staff.
'I wonder if he'll sell out now that wicked Boney is in prison?' she asked as she brushed Joanna's hair.
'Not exactly a prison,' Joanna corrected, pouncing on this different topic, glad to be free of the subject of Mr Matthew's perfections. 'Elba is a small island, off the south coast of France.'
'Well, he can't leave it, from what Mr Firbank says, so it's as good as a prison. Oh, it will make Christmas seem like the old times, before Mr Matthew joined the army.'
'Did he live here, or does he have his own house?' Joanna could not resist asking.
'He has a small manor house his father left him, nearer to Leeds,' Betsy said. 'It's let to one of the mill owners from Leeds, who has made a fortune and wants to play at being a country squire.' She sniffed. 'It don't pay to ape folks above you. There, you look really pretty tonight, you've more colour in your cheeks.'
From either anger or embarrassment, Joanna thought, and suppressed a sigh. She had to go down and face Matthew.
The brothers were in the drawing room, and Sir Kenelm immediately came across to Joanna, and led her to a chair beside the fire.
'I think you need something stronger than ratafia,' he said, and went to pour her a glass of Madeira. 'Here, drink this. Matthew has been telling me what is happening on the continent.'
Matthew, seeming quite unembarrassed, was standing in front of the fireplace, and explained he had been in Vienna at the Congress for a while.
'They cannot agree,' he said. 'There are too many people all wanting different things, and unwilling to give way. There are more parties and balls and concerts than there are sensible discussions about what is to be done. Every country, every ruler, wants more than it is possible to give them. I was amazed they had ever cooperated in the fighting.'
'They were all fighting to keep Napoleon out of their own countries,' Sir Kenelm pointed out. 'This was self-interest. There wasn't the same need for military cooperation.'
Matthew nodded. 'And now they cannot understand a different type of cooperation is needed. That is what happens when rulers and ministers get involved, instead of soldiers.'
Sir Kenelm laughed. 'You would naturally say that. Perhaps they should send Wellington there. I hear the Duke is struggling in Paris, for he does not speak French easily.'
Matthew strolled across to where the decanters were and refilled his glass, then turned to face his brother.
'It would suit him better, and he might be able to knock their heads together. I came back through Paris, and the French do not like the Bourbons. It is not so easy as people think to settle everything when the fighting is over. There is just a different kind of battle being waged.'
Joanna, perceiving that Matthew was more serious than he had first appeared, began to smile on him, and asked if he knew any of the people she had been with in Portugal. Soon they were exchanging opinions and recollections, and he was able to tell her about several of the people she had known. This conversation continued after they moved into the dining room, and Sir Kenelm sat back, content to watch them.
'I understand from Venner Henry and his family are coming tomorrow,' Matthew said. 'It will be good to see him. How is dear Albinia? Still declining into a permanent invalid?'
'She has been even more unwell since the little girl was born,' Sir Kenelm said. 'I understand it takes some women that way.'
'Well, I trust it does not take you that way, sister Joanna,' Matthew said, turning to her.
She flushed vividly, and while she realised he could not know about the conditions of her marriage, the comment hurt. She stood up abruptly.
'I will leave you to your port,' she said, and swept from the room, getting to the door before Sir Kenelm could reach it to open it for her.
'Oh Lord, what did I say?' she heard Matthew exclaim just before the door was shut. 'Is she breeding?'
For a moment she stood, undecided. Could she face him again, or should she go to bed straight away? Then she shook her head. She could not avoid him for the rest of his visit, and to make some excuse now would simply aggravate any embarrassment. Better to pretend nothing had happened. She went slowly into the drawing room, took up her embroidery, and tried to make her breathing calm.
*
In Leeds Miss Busby, still not quite believing how she had been bundled so unceremoniously out of Rock Castle, was in the private sitting room she had hired, affordable because of the generosity of Sir Kenelm, and reading the latest issue of the Intelligencer. There were a few advertisements for governesses, but none that attracted her. She was trying to decide whether to finish with Yorkshire. She could go to Manchester or Liverpool, where there were many newly rich mill or ship owners who could afford private governesses for their children. Or she could go to London, where there were people of a better sort. She had once been employed by a mill owner, and had known herself to be superior in every way to his bluff, often crude, behaviour, and his wife's pitiful attempts at appearing ladylike. She would be better treated in the house of a nobleman, and she had the qualifications to appeal to the upper classes.
Once she had been ambitious to open her own school, but after teaching in one for a year she had concluded there were too many irritations, dealing with all the parents, who were always difficult, and never appeared satisfied, considering themselves superior to the teachers. Then there would be the staff who always wanted better conditions, or grumbled incessantly, not to mention tradesman who would no doubt seek to cheat a woman. Besides, she preferred teaching just one or two children, rather than a whole class.
She turned the pages and her eye was caught by a mention of a man having been left tied and gagged in a cellar. That was what she would like to see happen to that jumped-up trollop who had so despised her, once she had somehow trapped Sir Kenelm into marriage. She could not imagine how it had happened, and not to know annoyed her. If they had been betrothed beforehand
, why should they meet in a lawyer's office? But anything else was incredible. She forced her attention back to the newspaper and began to read the article. Her eyes widened as she came to the mention of the marriage of the daughter of the man who had been ruined and committed suicide. She had no difficulty is filling in the gaps when Miss F and Sir K C were referred to.
So her ladyship was the daughter of a gambler who had killed himself, was she? With such a scandal in her background it gave her no right to behave as though she were better than others. She put the newspaper down slowly and sat back, wondering how she could use this information. She was no longer at Rock Castle, so it would be difficult, but she owed Miss Frazer something. It had obviously been her influence which had led to her ignominious dismissal, so abrupt and undignified, this morning.
She began to wonder just why Sir Kenelm had been so angry, so suddenly and unexpectedly. All he had said was that she was teaching the children to behave badly towards their step-mother. She had just been making them aware of the truth, but clearly he had been led to believe otherwise. How, and by whom? She had always been very careful to appear meek and submissive when she took the children down to the drawing room, effacing herself while their father made awkward conversation with them, asking what they had been learning that day, while his wife sat stiff and silent, not attempting to speak to the twins.
Perhaps it was simply that his wife had been pressing him to dismiss her, and finally he had submitted. Yes, that was the most likely solution. She would find some way of retaliating. She would persuade her brother to help her. It was too late to see him tonight, but she would demand he visit her in the morning. She smiled and began to make plans.
*
Chapter 7
Henry and his family arrived in the middle of the afternoon. When they heard the noise of carriages on the drive Joanna and Sir Kenelm went to wait for them on the steps leading to the front door. First came a lumbering coach, followed a few minutes later by a post chaise. From the coach descended Harry, with a thin pale woman Sir Kenelm told Joanna was his governess. They were followed by a middle-aged Nanny carrying the baby. Sally immediately led them up to the nursery floor, where rooms had been prepared for them, saying the twins were eager to see their cousins.
The Chaperone Bride Page 10
