“This room is lovely, Mrs. Hutchins.”
“I be tell’n the master ye said so.” Mrs. Hutchins rocked back on her heels, a satisfied smile upon her lips and her hands clasped before her. The woman obviously took pride in her household. “Here be ye meal.”
Footsteps sounded down the hall, and Emily hurried into the room, placing the silver tray on a low table not far from the roaring hearth.
“Anything else, Mrs. Hutchins?” The young maid kept her eyes on Adeline as she spoke.
“That be all,” Mrs. Hutchins said, glancing over at Poppy. “Please show Miss Adeline’s maid to the kitchens for her meal.”
“Of course.” Emily curtseyed to Adeline and waved for Poppy to follow her.
The two young women departed the room, leaving Adeline alone with Mrs. Hutchins.
Adeline wandered to the bank of windows taking up the far wall and glanced out as a streak of lightning lit the sky, causing her to step back in alarm.
“Worst storm these parts be see’n in many a year,” Mrs. Hutchins called from the door. “But Faversham Abbey be solid. Don’t ye be worry’n ‘bout that.”
Adeline stepped forward once more, but did not train her sights on the storm overhead but rather what lay below. Lanterns illuminated the stable yard, the doors thrown open wide as she spotted a hooded figure striding toward the house.
Lord Ailesbury. It had to be him, but his hood made it impossible to tell.
Within the blink of an eye, he was gone, and Adeline wondered if he’d been there at all.
“Lord Ailesbury was very kind to offer us shelter.”
“He be a kind and generous man, ta be sure.” The housekeeper had moved toward the large bed and straightened the coverlet before hurrying over to the low table to remove the cover from Adeline’s meal. “We don’t be see’n many visitors this far from the main road.”
“But you had this room prepared…” Adeline ran her hand down the drapes, noting the frayed edges, even though they smelled freshly laundered. “After being stuck in the storm, I am overjoyed to find a warm room.”
The lightning struck once more, followed by a loud burst of thunder. The vast area surrounding Faversham Abbey was lit only for a second, but it was enough to see the towering structure in the far distance.
“What is that?” Adeline glanced over her shoulder to see the housekeeper had paused in her inspection of the room. She turned to look out the window over Adeline’s shoulder. “That building in the distance—“
“That be Home Works, the gunpowder plant outside Faversham.”
“It is a large building.”
“Yes, well, this be the country, but we still be need’n ta put food in our bellies, not that the townsfolk be admit’n ta the kindness Ailesbury be do’n for them.”
“Does Lord Ailesbury—“
Mrs. Hutchins turned toward the door, her words cutting off Adeline’s question. “Now, ye should eat afore Cook’s meal be cold as ice.”
“Certainly.” Adeline moved from the windows, and Mrs. Hutchins hurried over and untied the cord holding the drapes open. They fell into place over the windows, blocking out the sight of the storm, if not the sound of the wind and rain and thunder. “Thank you again for the dry room and meal.”
“I be let’n the staff know ye appreciation, Miss Adeline. Do enjoy ye night. If ye need anythin’, just pull the cord by the door. Meself or Emily will come.”
And as quickly as she’d shown Adeline to the room, Mrs. Hutchins was gone, closing the door in her wake.
Adeline realized except for Miss Emmeline’s School, her family’s country estate, and her London townhouse, she’d never slept anywhere else—especially a place as quiet as Faversham Abbey. Not a sound could be heard as Adeline sat on the lounge and looked around the room. Perhaps she should have requested Poppy remain with her. The room was large, bigger than any at her family’s home, and there was plenty of space. The bed was vast enough to sleep Adeline and all her sisters.
When had Adeline ever known the luxury of her own room? Those first few months at Miss Emmeline’s School had been the one and only time—until Georgie, then Josie, and finally Theo joined her. Miss Emmeline had been correct: Adeline was not suited for loneliness and solitude, but this was only one night. On the morrow, her carriage would be repaired, and she’d be on her way back to London, and the never-ending noise of her family home.
Her time at Faversham Abbey likely forgotten.
Chapter 4
Jasper and his servants, with Miss Adeline’s driver in tow, worked to push straw and mud against the edge of the stables to stop it from flooding. He would sacrifice a large portion of hay to feed his livestock if it meant the grain and oats were saved from mold and infestation.
“M’lord,” Watson, the Ailesbury stable master, shouted when the winds blew the doors wide once more and thunder threatened from above. “All is as it can be with the added horses. Find ye bed.”
“I will secure the latches in the tack room and return to the house,” Jasper called.
The frown Watson turned on him signaled the man knew Jasper was stalling.
Which he most certainly was. The woman needed to be securely in her room for the night—without risk of him entering the house to find her wandering the halls. He would have to speak with her, which was not the largest problem facing Jasper…he’d need remove his hood, or appear rather odd for wearing his cloak indoors. He hadn’t had need to hide his appearance within his own home in many years; however, the mere thought of exposing himself to the woman made him shiver with fear.
Why had he brought her here in the first place? She was stunningly beautiful—with her honey-colored, light brown tresses and hazel eyes that shone green in the dim light of his carriage. He should have taken her directly to the merchant shop in town. Anderson and his kind wife would have offered the woman and her servants shelter from the storm, leaving Jasper to return home.
He ran his hand along the jamb between the window and the shutter in the back of the room that housed all the Ailesbury horse equipment: saddles, reins, bridles, blankets. The space was secure, no rain penetrating the wooden exterior.
Jasper had no choice but to seek his chambers, and allow the stable servants to find their own slumber.
It had been a long time, since before his uncle’s death, that Faversham Abbey had entertained guests, yet his servants kept the entire house so clean and polished one would think a ball were scheduled for that very night. True, his solicitor made the journey from London twice a year, but it had been nearly five months since the man visited to go over the ledgers and accountings for all of Jasper’s properties and business ventures. His man of business did not count as a true guest, not like Miss Adeline Price.
Blast it all, but he’d had to ask the woman’s driver for her name. His manners were obviously a bit rusty from disuse, but then again, he never had the occasion to socialize beyond his time with his servants and the workers at his plant.
“Sleep well,” Jasper called to the stable hands milling about the small fire in the stables’ common room before he inched the door open and stepped into the storm. Thankfully, the woman’s driver was nowhere in sight and did not witness Jasper raising his hood to cover his scars.
He glanced up at the house as he hurried through the rain. A light shone from above on the second story.
Something hit him at once…they’d settled Adeline in Jasper’s mother’s private quarters—the room directly next to his.
He stumbled to a halt as he stared at the window above, the drapes having been closed for the night. Yet, he could still see light around the edges.
As if his gaze commanded it, a hand slipped between the heavy layers of fabric and pulled one side back.
…and there she stood. Her hair fell around her shoulders, but he could not see her expression from the great distance.
Without thinking, Jasper pulled his hood forward, though there was little chance she could see him standing in the darkn
ess between the stables and the house.
She let the drape fall back into place, and Jasper moved toward the house once more, rubbing the rain from his face and brushing at the sleeves of his cloak. Mrs. Hutchins would not be pleased if he tracked water across her clean floors.
Moving soundlessly through the garden and into the kitchen, Jasper allowed the warmth to banish the cold he hadn’t realized had set in. His fingers tingled from the drastic change in temperature, and his nose thawed as the savory scents of the kitchen wrapped him in a familiar embrace.
Jasper pushed Miss Adeline Price from his thoughts.
She would be gone soon enough, and everything would be as it had been for years.
“I sent me special duck pie ta the lady, m’lord,” Cook called from the open stove where she stirred a huge pot. “It be a rare occasion indeed that even the finickiest a eaters not be fall’n in love with me duck.”
Love? Why would Cook think to capture the woman’s love?
“She is a guest for only tonight.” Jasper frowned. “We will make certain to be gracious hosts, but that is all.”
“Yes, m’lord.”
He narrowed his stare on the woman. “What has come over you? Never have you called me ‘my lord’.”
Cook turned her attention back to the pot she’d been stirring. “Well, we ain’t never had a true London lady in the house neither.”
“Be that as it may, as I said, she is only a guest—an unexpected one at that—and she will be gone soon.”
“If’n ye say so, m’lord.”
Jasper only shook his head and continued toward the stairs. He’d been exhausted when he left the plant for the night, and that had been before they stumbled upon Miss Adeline’s stranded coach. Currently, he was uncertain how he still stood. A long night of sleep would prepare him for the work he’d need to accomplish when the sun rose. It would be no easy feat to collect Miss Adeline’s coach from the mud and bring it to his stables for repairs.
“A word, my lord,” Abbington said, as Jasper set his foot on the first stair.
He slowly turned toward his butler. “Yes, Abbington, and please, dispel with the formalities.”
The man cleared his throat before continuing. “Jasper.” His staff had called him by his given name since his parents’ deaths—possibly before. “Mrs. Hutchins and I are overjoyed at Miss Adeline’s arrival. We are also confused. It is highly improper to offer her shelter here…without a proper chaperone in residence.”
“I do not think there was much choice in the matter.” Jasper pushed his hood back and slammed his hands into his trouser pockets. “A storm is raging, and the roads were becoming less and less travelable. It was either bring her here or leave her to her fate. What would you have me do, Abbington?”
“Take her to Anderson’s shop.” Abbington put increased emphasis on each word.
But Jasper was not a dullard. He’d been well aware of the risks he’d undertaken bringing her to Faversham Abbey; yet, he’d been unable to tame his selfishness. For one night, he would not be alone at his estate, even if he never saw the woman or allowed her to see him, Miss Adeline was still in residence. It had been a long ten years since his aunt died. And his uncle passed only five short years later. Since then, he’d been alone at Faversham Abbey, the twenty bedrooms, four stories, and acres surrounding the manor had never felt as lonesome as they did in recent days.
“Do you assume I did not already think of that?” Jasper sighed, attempting to keep his irritation at bay. He knew his servants were only trying to protect him—and he was overly wary from his day at the plant. “Besides, it was closer to come to the Abbey as opposed to venturing back toward town.”
His butler’s brows rose in question. “If you say so, my lord.”
“I do.” Jasper started up the stairs again but paused. “And do not think your wife and I will not have words over her choice of chambers for Miss Adeline.”
“I cannot speak to my wife’s decisions, as you know, but she has shared with me she is worried about you—all alone here at Faversham.” The man fell into silence, knowing the limits to their relationship. No matter what happened in the place they both called home, Jasper was still his master. And he a mere servant. There were boundaries and societal expectations to be upheld.
Even if every day those lines were blurred more and more. “That I understand.”
Abbington was no more in control of his wife, Mrs. Hutchins, than Jasper was. Since his parents’ deaths—and later, his aunt and uncle’s deaths—the woman had been the only mother figure Jasper knew. In a way, his housekeeper was more familiar with his likes and dislikes than anyone. How was it only at times like this his apparent lack of companionship became overwhelming?
“Do see that Cook prepares adequate food for Miss Adeline to break her fast in the morning. It is a long journey back to London, and I will not have her arriving famished. I think the pheasant Cook was saving for supper tomorrow will do nicely. Please see to it.”
“Of course,” Abbington said with a chuckle.
Jasper had no urge to ponder why his butler found his demands comical or why he longed to impress Miss Adeline at all. She would return to London, and he would remain in Faversham—where he need not fear the penetrating stares and jeers of strangers.
After the damage caused by the fire that took his parents’ lives, Jasper had guarded himself with the assistance of his paternal uncle, Lieutenant Colonel Bartholomew Benedict, and his aunt, Alice. They hired tutors to see to his schooling at Faversham—everything from arithmetic to science to literature. Jasper had even been instructed in the modern styles of dance one would encounter in every London ballroom. Not that he’d ever actually taken to the floor with anyone other than his aunt Alice and Mrs. Hutchins.
He’d fooled himself for years, thinking he secluded himself at his country manor to keep from scaring others with the sight of his scarred face and body, but truly, it was to protect him from the cruel side of human nature. Here, at his home, and even in town, the sight of his scars did not frighten others as it once did. The men at his plant avoided him, but no longer did they shrink in fear of his monstrous appearance.
It was enough to know that someone shared the house with him, besides his servants—who were paid to serve him.
He continued up the stairs and down the hall to his room, not allowing himself to pause outside Miss Adeline’s chambers. She would be gone soon enough, and his household would return to normal.
Solitude would once again be his safeguard against the cruel, misunderstanding world.
The Beast of Faversham did not need to hear the words uttered by people who he’d once called friends to know it was what the villagers whispered to one another when he wasn’t near.
Yet, could he bear hearing those same words from the tender lips of Miss Adeline Price?
Chapter 5
Adeline sat in a straight-backed chair and beheld the table before her as the storm continued to rage outside. With at least eighteen chairs, the long, walnut surface could seat all of her siblings with a chair between each to stop their constant bickering and banter—and alleviate the headache that Alistair claimed to have had since he reached his majority. Not only was the table peculiarly grand, but its top was set as if a gathering of London’s social elite would be arriving at any moment to bear witness to Lord Ailesbury’s fine feast. Yet, as of the last quarter hour, Adeline had been the only person seated at the table as dish after heavenly smelling dish was set before her.
Not one, not two, not three, but four candelabras were stationed at precise intervals down the table, lending the perfect lighting for an evening meal. However, it was now the breakfast hour. Even the cutlery and utensils were fine silver with matching meal rings around the large plate before them. The serving dishes held enough meat, cheese, bread, fruit, and porridge for her family’s entire household—servants included. It all seemed overly grand and refined for a mere morning repast.
When she’d entered,
she was positioned to the right of the head seat.
An honored guest.
Adeline knew as much from her time at Miss Emmeline’s School. While they focused on academics, decorum and etiquette were also requirements for each pupil.
Still, she wondered who would join her.
Adeline hesitated to touch anything, though she allowed her fingertips to caress the finely cut crystal of the wine goblet set before her. The glass twinkled in the glow of the candles, casting a rainbow of colors on the far wall.
With all the food already set out—and Emily, the servant from the previous evening—continuing to set dish after dish upon the table, there must be others coming.
Yet, the house remained eerily quiet with only the servant’s light footsteps in and out of the dining hall to disturb the stillness of Faversham Abbey.
That and the occasional rattle of the windowpanes as the wind and rains continued to unleash their fury on the Kent countryside. Poppy had insisted the storm was near passing, but Emily had not been as confident in declaring the gale was subsiding.
As if the young woman had read Adeline’s thoughts, Emily entered the room once again with a large platter of fresh bread, the steam drifting off the evenly sliced portions told her it was still warm from the oven. With a quick smile and a nod, the servant placed the dish before Adeline and hurriedly departed the room once more.
Adeline had not moved to fill her plate, her manners preventing her from doing so until all had arrived to break their fast. Had she arrived unfashionably early?
She’d never been known as one to wake with the sun. Nor had she and Poppy rushed through her morning routine as she donned her last clean gown and had her light brown locks pinned perfectly for her day.
Unease settled around her much like her rain-soaked cloak. In what she felt was another life entirely, Adeline would have been cast in a web of irritation to be left to her own devices in a stranger’s home. Instead, she was fairly fatigued with loneliness.
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