The Earl's Regret_Regency Romance

by Joyce Alec

  “Darling, was there something you needed?” John asked, putting an arm around her.

  “Oh, of course,” Agnes said, and she appeared suddenly like a bird with her feathers ruffled. “Gentlemen, it is time for luncheon.”

  And without another word, she turned and made her way from the room.

  Alice spared the men a glance, being careful not to make eye contact, curtsied to them, and followed.

  The men joined Agnes as she began her descent to the dining room, and Robert conveniently found himself walking beside Alice in the long, narrow hall.

  Agnes and John paid Robert no mind, for Agnes had already started upon another subject, and John was patiently listening to her.

  Robert could see that Alice was very well respected by Agnes; why else would she have insisted on her moving to her new home? He tried to discern something from her face, but her eyes were fixed on the floor, just behind Agnes.

  “So, Thompson,” Robert said to Alice as he clasped his hands behind his back casually, hoping he could make her feel more relaxed. “How do you like it here at Bridgewater?”

  The poor girl nearly stumbled, apparently not expecting to be addressed in any shape or form.

  Her wide eyes finally met his, and he smiled reassuringly. She quickly gazed bac down, obviously trying to be respectful. She’s such a young, pretty thing, he couldn’t help noticing.

  Her cheeks flushed the same color as her hair, and yet, she composed herself as if she had the grace of ten women.

  “I find it most pleasant, my lord, thank you for asking.”

  Surprised a little himself at his body’s reaction to her voice, Robert tried not to trip down the stairs as they began their second flight down. Her voice was confident for someone who had seemed as timid as a mouse a moment before. It was as if suddenly she had poise, charm, and astounding presence. He was pleased that Agnes knew her as well as she did, for this sort of thing would be sure to make any other woman uneasy.

  He cleared his throat.

  What on earth happened? Why am I so nervous speaking to a servant?

  “I am pleased to hear it,” he replied, recovering his own poise. “Are you settling in well enough? Are you finding everything suitable?”

  Alice smiled a very kind smile, and she tossed some of her long hair over her shoulder as they rounded the corner into the parlor.

  “I am indeed, sir. My quarters are perfectly charming and far more spacious than anything I have had before. Her Ladyship is most pleased with her new home, and that surely makes it easier for me to help her.”

  For a moment, he could have sworn that he had forgotten he was not speaking to someone of noble blood. He was reminded of her station when she bowed as Robert, John, and Agnes made their way into the dining hall.

  He did not see Alice again until that evening when Agnes requested to see her in the drawing room after dinner. Robert soon deduced that his sister-in-law liked having Alice around, perhaps as a sort of comfort. For as much as she spoke of Bridgewater being her new home, she often dwelled on stories of her youth, many of which included Alice.

  “It must be that she is simply homesick, brother,” Robert said when John mentioned the very same thing. “It is quite obvious she is smitten with the place here, and there would be nothing anyone could do to make her give it up.”

  John pursed his lips, and sighed. “Perhaps you are right.”

  Robert gently squeezed his brother’s arm. “I am right. There is never any one place that we are entirely happy in our lives, brother. That is why our hearts long for heaven.”

  John smiled slowly. “You do always seem to have the answer for everything, don’t you?”

  Robert grinned in reply. “I do. It’s one of my few talents.”

  The men both took sips of the tea in their cups.

  “So, Agnes’s family has employed Thompson for a long time it seems,” Robert said, taking the excuse to watch Alice. The two women sat beside one another on the settee beside the fire, laughing like old friends. It was a very informal thing to do, but it was in her home; who was he to question it?

  John nodded in agreement. “They have known each other since they were both young, perhaps five? Six? Thompson was the daughter of a maid and quickly became a playmate for Agnes. When Thompson was old enough, she began working for the family. Agnes was quite pleased when she agreed to move with her to Bridgewater.”

  John sighed, but his features softened. “It does my heart good to see her so comfortable here, Robert. After all that we have gone through, I simply wish for her to know just how much I cherish her. Anything that I can do to ensure her happiness makes my job worthwhile. And having a friend here is good for her, good for her heart. There are few things she has here that are hers. Providing a link to that what is familiar is the least I can do.”

  Robert watched the women, and his heart warmed when he saw Alice smile.

  “She’s a charming girl,” he said softly.

  His brother’s gaze shifted to him, and he felt him study his face. Robert returned the gaze just as innocently.

  “She is indeed,” John replied rather hesitantly.

  Nervously, Robert continued, but in as calm of a tone as he dared. “We have had experiences with less than charming servants, and it is far more pleasant to live with the sort who appear to enjoy their work.”

  Robert turned and looked into his brother’s face, daring him to challenge his words.

  “You are correct, of course,” John answered, and his tone was one without threat or danger.

  Robert relaxed.

  How silly I am, doting over a pretty maid like a school boy.

  Robert retired to his own guest suite early that evening, hoping to rise with the sun in order to accompany his brother out fishing in their well-stocked lake behind the manor. They had spent many long weekends there as children, and he looked forward to returning to it.

  Try as he might, he could not put Alice’s face from his mind. Her hair was too vibrant, too easily remembered, and her eyes too piercing. And in the smallest part of himself, he found that he did not want to stop thinking of her beauty, simply because society deemed it wrong. For what was wrong with a man admiring the beauty that God had given her? He had no intention of acting on his attraction to her.

  Robert settled into a restless sleep that night and dreamed that his brother, John, accused him of stealing one of his wife’s most precious books, one that could never be replaced. He had insisted over and over again that he had left it right where it belonged, because it did not belong to him. It was just such a beautiful book. So then why was he running through a labyrinth of hallways like a guilty man?

  He woke with the sweat of his dreams still on his brow, and the sunlight was already streaming through the trees outside the windows.

  The sharp wrap of knuckles on the door roused him from his drowsy state.

  “Brother, are you going to sleep the whole morning away and allow me to catch all the fish myself?”

  “Not at all,” Robert called back. “My apologies. I shall be right there.”

  Robert met his own gaze at the mirror above the wash basin and found that he was not surprised to see the frightened look still upon his face.

  It was just a dream. It was only a dream.

  2

  No Better Gift Than a Book

  Agnes was never a woman of excessive want. She preferred simple foods, simple conversation, and simple clothing. Her love of simplicity allowed her a deeper appreciation for all of the things that the good Lord had given her, and she found that she was most content when things were quiet and easy.

  When she married Lord Bridgewater, she knew that she was marrying into excess. He was the son of a duke, after all, and the heir no less. Humble living was just not something she was going to have, but she was pleased to have John, for he was very understanding and, in many ways, of the same mind as her. John was a simple man with simple wants.

  Yes, their marriage was a match
made in heaven, she was told. It was one that made many women envious because they longed for her good fortune for themselves. She took no pride in that fact, but it did cause her to carry herself better now that she was married to a future duke. Her future son would also be the duke one day, and that meant a lot of weight rested on her shoulders and on the shoulders of her future son, even though he was not even born yet.

  The afternoon was a lovely time at their home, and she often found herself sitting out on the terrace that overlooked the lake, full of reeds and cattails, with the occasional fish jumping to catch a fly. Since her arrival, Agnes spent a good amount of time on the terrace reading books. Currently, she was enjoying a new book that her brother-in-law, Robert, had brought as a gift, titled The Gift of Grace. She thought about the meaningful passages as she watched the men in the distance catching fish.

  Agnes made sure to return indoors before the sun burned her fair face, and she made her way back up to her chambers to get ready for luncheon. She wondered if her husband would be inviting Robert to stay for another night, or if he had other matters to attend to. She got along quite well with Robert and would always be happy to welcome him into her home.

  She sighed with relief as she reached her door. John had ensured that she had the finest bedroom in the manor for her personal belongings. It was full of new morning sunlight, at her request, and there was a small balcony that looked out onto the rose gardens. It was her sanctuary, and she was most pleased to spend time there.

  She found Alice waiting in her chamber, also busy reading a book. When Alice heard the door open, she quickly tossed the book aside and got to her feet. If Agnes had not known her as well as she did, she would just assume that she had knocked it over as she was cleaning out of fright.

  Agnes smiled. “What were you reading?”

  Alice relaxed when she saw it was Agnes. “Oh, hello, my lady.”

  Agnes rolled her eyes. “We are alone, dear friend.”

  “Of course,” Alice said, stooping to pick up the book once more. She dusted off the cover and laid it down gently on the nightstand beside the chair where she had been sitting.

  “I was waiting for you to return,” Alice said. “I know how you enjoy your privacy when you are reading.”

  Agnes nodded, but her face was kind. “I do appreciate it. However, you didn’t have to remain in my chambers until I returned.”

  “I know, but I didn’t want you to be looking for me if you needed me.”

  Agnes studied her young maid’s face.

  “Are you hiding from the other servants again?”

  Alice’s eyes dropped to her feet. “Not exactly, no…”

  She pressed her no further.

  Agnes sat down on the chair in front of her vanity, all her brushes, powders, and perfumes scattered across the surface. She sighed contentedly, and she let her hair down from the chignon at her neck. She slowly raked her fingers through her long, dark tresses, allowing the curls to unwind.

  She reached to pick up her brush, but found it was missing.

  And then she felt it in her hair, at the back of her head.

  “Oh, Alice,” Agnes laughed. “You don’t have to do that right now,” she said. “I am perfectly capable of brushing my own hair.”

  Alice smiled at her in the mirror, her hair as red as a copper kettle. “I know. But you know how I love to do your hair.”

  Agnes sighed, and settled back against the chair. “Something that I still do not understand, not even as long as I have known you.”

  Alice shrugged as she started to pull the comb slowly through Agnes’s hair. “There is something relaxing in its nature. It brings you comfort and peace, and that in turn gives me peace.”

  Agnes allowed her eyes to close as she enjoyed the sensation of the bristles passing over her scalp. “I do suppose I can understand that. I just do not want for you to feel as if you have to do everything for me now that we are here.”

  Alice remained silent, still slowly brushing her hair.

  “Are you quite happy here, my friend?” Agnes asked, meeting Alice’s eyes in the mirror again. She smiled gently, hoping she could see how much she wanted it to be true.

  “Of course I am,” she replied and looked pleased.

  “All right,” Agnes replied. “That’s good. I know we haven’t had much of a chance to speak, just the two of us, since we arrived.”

  “That is quite understandable,” Alice replied. “You have been recently married, of course you would wish to spend time with your new husband.”

  Agnes grinned, in spite of herself, and she looked down at her hands in her lap. “Oh, Alice, I do hope that we can find you a suitable husband someday soon. You are still so young and so beautiful!”

  Alice’s eyes widened, and she laughed. “But I just moved here so I could be with you! Do you wish to be rid of me so soon?”

  Agnes shook her head and regretted it almost at once; some of her hair remained in the brush, pulling against her scalp. “No, certainly not! I just hope that you can have the same joys that I have someday.”

  Alice studied Agnes’s face. “I am pleased that you have such joy, my friend.” She continued to brush her hair. “Have you found the grounds and the house to your liking?”

  Agnes sighed happily. “I have, Alice, I have indeed. The stables are perfect, and John has already told me that I am able to keep another horse if I wish. The terrace is more beautiful than I could have hoped for, and until we have children, I do not even know what I am to do with all of the space in the rest of the house! There is just entirely too much!”

  Alice smiled, and the women laughed together.

  “One thing that I do wish for, however, is a chance for life to settle down again. Everything has been so busy, and I don’t feel as if I have had the chance to really experience living in this home yet,” said Agnes.

  “That will come in time, I’m sure.”

  “And you aren’t lonely?” Agnes asked, looking up at Alice’s face.

  Alice shook her head. “Not at all. Most of the staff have been…” she hesitated. “Pleasant enough, but you know that I would rather spend time with my books or with you.” She pursed her lips, but Agnes was sure that she was doing it unconsciously.

  Agnes nodded her head slowly. “I understand,” she replied.

  “And besides, I think they might be jealous of the responsibilities that I have. I am a lady’s maid, after all, and I am the one to tend to anything that you need.” She switched to the other side of Agnes’s head. “I think that some of them wanted the job and found me to be too young to take on such an important position.”

  “Well that is just too bad,” Agnes replied. “You have been with me for as long as I can remember, and I would have it no other way.”

  Alice smiled down at her in the mirror. “I was glad when you asked me to come with you. I had hoped you would.”

  “How could I not?” Agnes replied.

  Alice continued to brush Agnes’s hair until Agnes remembered what she had seen when she came into the room.

  “What book were you reading when I came in?” Agnes asked, throwing a glance over her shoulder to the red, leather bound book on her nightstand.

  “Oh, that? It’s a book called The Red Night. It’s quite good,” Alice said, her face lighting up. “A young prince discovered a dragon beneath the keep of his castle, just as every prince does the year he comes of age. The dragon is a wise creature and is to help the young prince to train up so he can be a great king. I am only part way through it, and already I cannot put it down.”

  “I have yet to hear you speak of a book that you can put down,” Agnes teased. “However, it sounds very intriguing,” Agnes said thoughtfully. “I have not heard of it.”

  “His Lordship allowed me to borrow it, as long as I return it to its rightful place,” Alice said. The women shared a knowing smile. John certainly had his quirks, but the way his library was organized was perhaps his greatest one.

  �
��Why were you reading that particular one? Did he recommend it?”

  Her cheeks colored, and Agnes was surprised.

  “I…I saw Lord Robert Stone reading it yesterday. It made me curious.”

  Agnes raised her eyebrows. “That is awfully perceptive of you,” she said, turning around in her chair to look up at Alice properly. “Though I suppose that is not uncommon for you, is it?”

  Alice suddenly could not meet Agnes’s eye. She looked all around the room, but not at her. She placed the brush back down onto the vanity table, and she moved to straighten the quilt on Agnes’s bed.

  Agnes watched her, quite perplexed.

  “He had quite a lot of interesting things to say last night,” Alice began, her voice slightly unsteady. “I particularly enjoyed his stories of London and Bath in the winter.”

  “They have been all over the countryside. His family travels quite often,” Agnes replied, still watching Alice move about the room restlessly. “I, too, find his stories most interesting. He would talk late into the night when I was visiting his family before Lord Bridgewater and I were married, and the entire family would gather around. He has quite the gift for words.”

  “And he’s a smart man? Lord Robert Stone?”

  Agnes could see where her questions were heading. “Oh, certainly. He’s also kind and was most helpful when Lord Bridgewater and I were betrothed. We went through this nonsense period believing that the other did not wish to marry…but that isn’t important,” Agnes replied, smiling.

  “Does he…read often?” Alice asked, attempting to keep her tone steady.

  Agnes hesitated. “I believe he does. He and his brother are both quite learned men and would often take any chance to engage in some sort of intellectual debate about almost anything.”

  Alice nodded her head thoughtfully. “That’s quite good, for brothers to be as close as they are.”

  “They have their moments,” Agnes replied. “But I do think they mean well most of the time.” She still watched Alice with an intense gaze, who was still attempting to do anything but meet it.