Always Come Home (Emerson 1)

by Maureen Driscoll

  “As I have mentioned before, I am four and twenty.”

  Anastasia shuddered. “I cannot imagine being unmarried at such an advanced age. I am sure I would die of shame.”

  “Yet, I have muddled through just the same. Did you have a chance to read any of the books I found in the library?”

  “Spinsterhood has robbed you of your senses. Why should I read books? That would surely ruin my eyes and it is a known fact that gentlemen cannot abide a girl with spectacles.”

  “They are not that fond of dullards, either.”

  “I have yet to see evidence of that.”

  The girl had a point, Ava conceded. Tonnish gentlemen liked their women wealthy and agreeable. Intelligence did not enter into things much, which could explain the growing number of sapskulls in the aristocracy.

  Anastasia continued. “Look at what your bluestocking tendencies have gotten you. You have to work for your keep and cannot go to any balls at all, other than to sit on the side of the ballroom with the other chaperones. You would have been better served to have run off with a great explorer when you were in Egypt. But instead, you’re stuck here with no future at all. Now, are you going to put my hair up or not?”

  Ava wanted to put the girl’s hair up after first ripping it from her head. But instead she smiled and said, “I am afraid not.”

  Anastasia threw her hairbrush at Ava, narrowly missing her. “Ring for my maid!”

  Ava did as she was told. Then Angelique entered the room looking deliriously happy.

  And nothing good could come of that.

  “Guess who Clayton found in the village?” asked Angelique.

  “It would be lovely if it were a new governess,” said Anastasia. “One who knew her place.”

  “What’s the matter? Is Conway refusing to put your hair up again?” Angelique turned to Ava. “You would do well to remember that you’re to do as we tell you.”

  “Actually,” said Ava, sounding calmer than she felt. “I am employed by the countess and she left explicit instructions about how she wanted the two of you to dress and wear your hair.”

  “But, Mama isn’t here now, is she?” said Anastasia.

  “’Stas, be quiet! You can harangue Conway later. You must hear my news. Clayton has brought Colin Emerson to the house, the Earl of Ridgeway.”

  “The poor one?” asked Anastasia with distaste.

  “The one who must marry,” said Angelique.

  “But he’s poor.”

  “What does that have to do with anything? We each come with a dowry worth a king’s ransom. And even the wife of a poor earl is a countess.”

  “But I want to be a duchess. Or at the very least, a marchioness.”

  “Very well, I shall be a countess. And you shall see which old duke is looking for a wife. At least Ridgeway has all his teeth and a fine form. I can only imagine what he looks like beneath that one suit he is always forced to wear.”

  “Gossip is unbecoming in young ladies,” said Ava. “Especially when it’s salacious.”

  “I don’t know what that word means,” said Angelique. “And before you prose on to explain it, I wasn’t talking to you. Neither of us were. So why don’t you do something useful like take yourself off to the kitchens and tell Cook to make a meal to impress an earl?”

  Ava considered staying because she knew that as soon as she left, the girls would change into gowns that were all together too mature for them. The countess was much too permissive in what she allowed the girls to buy. But perhaps that was her way of compensating for never being home.

  Ava took another look at the girls, who had their pretty heads together plotting, then took herself off to the kitchens. There was only so much sense she could try to pour into young girls who were intent on flirtation. And her head was beginning to ache from the strain.

  *

  While Colin was grateful to have a warm, dry place for him and Stemple to sleep that night, he knew it would come at a cost. Namely, having to listen to Clayton and his cronies prattle on about their latest curricle race, mistress or curricle race with a mistress beside him. He knew most of the men there, of course. They’d been at school together. The ton was a fairly small, tightly closed circle. Admission was granted by birth and its ranks only rarely expanded for outsiders. It was a world Colin had been born into, but he was bored and frustrated to have to play the game for even one moment more.

  Especially when he needed to get home.

  When the butler showed him to his room, Stemple was already there before him, unpacking his things.

  “We shan’t be staying long, Stemple, so you needn’t bother with most of it – what little there is, of course. But I suppose I must dress for dinner.” It was a good thing he hadn’t sold his one set of evening clothes.

  “Very good, my lord.”

  “Stop ‘my….”

  “In this house, my lord, I choose to ‘my lord’ you at every opportunity. My lord. Was there a reason Lord Clayton would not use your title?”

  “Besides his being a horse’s arse?”

  “Yes, my lord. Besides that.”

  “I think it always rankled him at school that I was more popular than he, better at sports, more successful with women and received higher marks. Not that he ever cared that much about academics, of course. But he did care about losing. Now I am in possession of my title and he’s only a ceremonial viscount. What’s more, his father is young and healthy. There’s every chance Clayton won’t inherit until he’s well into middle age.”

  “If I might ask, sir, do you like being an earl?”

  Colin considered the question. “I guess there’s not much point to liking it or not, since I have no choice in the matter. It doesn’t help that every time I hear myself addressed as Lord Ridgeway, it reminds me of my father. And the title does come with immense responsibilities, including an entailed estate. If I could simply sell the thing, I could easily provide for my family, at least until the two younger girls married. As it is, I struggle to keep food on the table and to pay the rather exorbitant taxes. But fear not, Stemple, I shall not expect you to follow me to debtors’ prison.”

  “I am relieved to hear it, sir. Do you know when we will depart? And what means of transportation we shall employ when we do so?”

  “Ideally, the answers to those two questions would be ‘first thing in the morning’ and ‘in a well-sprung carriage with a couple of courtesans.’ But, alas, I fear it shall be ‘some time in the next day or two’ and, possibly ‘on horseback’ if I can convince Clayton to lend us mounts from his stable.”

  “Very good, my lord.”

  “Is there a bed in the dressing room for you?” Colin had only briefly glanced at his suite.

  “I am to stay in the servants’ quarters, my lord.”

  “Do they have a proper room for you?”

  “I will make do with whatever they offer.”

  Colin studied the man who was both servant and friend. “I have a feeling we will both have to make do quite a bit in the coming months.”

  Stemple smiled, though, as usual, his scars made the motion uneven. “Very good, sir. I shall come back to dress you for dinner.”

  After the servant left, Colin decided to get some exercise by walking through the house. In town, his finances had meant he walked whenever possible. After a long day of travel, it felt good to stretch his legs.

  He avoided going downstairs to the billiards room, where he knew most of the guests would be congregated. Instead, he stayed upstairs and strolled to the wing where he guessed the family portraits would be. He would while away half an hour by making sport of Clayton’s ancestors.

  The wing was gratifyingly cold. Even Clayton’s money didn’t permit the lighting of fires in areas with few visitors. It was a grey winter day outside, so the portrait wing itself was rather dark. Which was why he didn’t see her at first.

  But he heard her.

  The last thing Colin wanted was to talk to anyone at this party. He turne
d to leave without being seen by the woman in the gallery, but then he heard something that made him stop.

  He heard her curse.

  He quietly stepped into the shadows to take a closer look at – and a listen to – the woman he’d just seen. She had brown hair, pulled back in a bun so tight it looked like it hurt. She was dressed in a brown gown buttoned all the way up her neck and down to her wrists. She appeared to have a good figure, though it was dark enough that he couldn’t tell for certain. The dress wasn’t doing her any favors, either. It was too loose to give him an exact idea of her shape, though what he could see was pleasing enough.

  But what was most extraordinary was what this prim and proper woman was doing. For she was stopping in front of each portrait and insulting it. Or, rather, insulting the portrait’s living relatives.

  Currently she was talking about a woman named Anastasia, whom Colin vaguely remembered as the name of one of Clayton’s sisters.

  “She is, your ladyship,” said the woman to the portrait, “one of the most impatient, ill-mannered, and cruel lackwits I have ever had the misfortune of knowing. She strikes her maid on a daily basis, abuses the poor girl verbally and – it pains me to inform you of this – has never read more than two pages of anything in one sitting. Were it not for the scandal sheets, I believe she would give up reading all together. She is a dullard. Thank you for listening.”

  Then the remarkable chit curtsied – to a portrait! – and moved on to the next one.

  “Your lordship, I regret to inform you that your great-great-great-whatever-granddaughter Angelique is a wretched excuse for a lady, with the musical skills of a deaf elephant. I once witnessed her beating her maid with a hanger for not ironing her gown to perfection. Had I not interceded, the poor maid might have sustained serious injury. As it was, I almost fainted from the effort to restrain myself from boxing Angelique’s ears. She will, I fear, become with child if she continues to flirt with gentlemen with whom she has no business conversing. Though, in this case, it is not her fault as much as Lord Clayton’s for inviting such men into his home. All of whom are drunkards. None of whom has a full-sized brain amongst them. As for Lord Clayton…”

  In his gleeful effort to overhear more, Colin bumped into a chair, which screeched on the floor. Unfortunately, that brought the woman’s delightful recitation to a halt.

  “Who is there?” she asked.

  “Please forgive me,” said Colin as he stepped into the light. “And pray do not let me interrupt you. I believe you were just getting to Clayton and I am all agog as to what you will say next.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Damnation! Ava could not believe she’d been caught behaving in such an inappropriate manner, especially in front of one of Lord Clayton’s guests. Hopefully, he was drunk enough that he would forget the entire matter.

  It was a fair wager that he was, since his lordship’s guests spent little of the day sober.

  He must be a new arrival for she would have remembered seeing him. He was sinfully handsome with his wavy black hair that was slightly too long and eyes so dark they could be black, as well.

  As much as she might like to stare at the man in different circumstances, it was always dangerous to be cornered by his lordship’s guests anywhere in the house, and especially in such an isolated hallway.

  “If you will excuse me, sir, I should be going,” she said.

  “You cannot seriously mean to deprive me of hearing what you were going to say about Clayton.”

  “It was wrong of me to speak disparagingly about my charges, sir. I certainly shan’t exacerbate the matter by speaking ill of Lord Clayton.”

  “Not even a little bit? What if I started? I have always marveled at the way he tries to stand in such a way as to give himself greater height. Surely you have noticed. Now that I have said it first, it would do no harm in discussing it further with his ancestors.”

  “I shall not say anything of the sort, sir.” Though Lord Clayton’s awkward pose had not gone unnoticed by her. He also had a habit of standing near his shorter friends in an effort to appear taller. A failed effort.

  “All right, what about the fact he has almost no knowledge of basic geography? When we were at school, he once placed the Andes Mountains somewhere in the Congo.”

  Ava could not prevent the snort – the snort! – of laughter that escaped.

  The man laughed outright. “So you have noticed that.”

  Ava schooled her features in what she hoped was a proper, governess-like way. “I shan’t discuss Lord Clayton with you.”

  “But I have a feeling you would not place the Andes in the Congo.”

  “Of course not. But one’s lack of knowledge of basic geography does not excuse gossip of any sort.”

  “Where have you travelled?” The sinfully handsome man was looking at her with head tilted.

  “What makes you think I have?”

  “The way you said ‘of course not,’ as though only an imbecile would make such an error. An imbecile named Lord Clayton, but that is neither here nor there. Where have you been?”

  “I really should get back to my charges.”

  “You’re the governess to Clayton’s sister?”

  “Sisters. Twins.”

  “I am sure they’re delightful. Where have you travelled, Miss….”

  “We have not been properly introduced, sir.”

  “You have a lot of rules. No gossip, no giving me your name without the benefit of a proper introduction.” He pointed to a portrait of a lady from the last century dressed for court. “Perhaps her ladyship could introduce us.”

  Ava gave in to a bit of laughter. “Very well, I am Miss Ava Conway.” She curtsied.

  “It is a great pleasure to meet you, Miss Conway. I am Colin Emerson. Ridgeway, for my sins.”

  “You’re the earl Lord Clayton found in town?” she asked. Oh, dear. Angelique would take one look at this handsome man and do whatever it took to be his countess.

  “I don’t generally define myself in terms of how Clayton finds me, but yes. I just arrived today.”

  “And when, Lord Ridgeway, do you plan to depart?”

  *

  This was becoming more and more interesting by the moment. Colin had been enchanted by her conversation with the portraits and even more intrigued by her attempts to be a prim governess when it was obvious she was a warm, intelligent, more-than-passably attractive woman. It was hard to tell just what she looked like, what with the dim light and the buttoned-up dress.

  What’s more, he could tell she agreed with his assessment of Clayton, though she’d been too well-mannered to say so. But once she’d learned he was an earl, it seemed her whole demeanor had changed. She’d become even more distant. And if he wasn’t mistaken, she wasn’t just inquiring about his departure as polite conversation. It appeared she wanted him to leave.

  Women didn’t often have that reaction to him.

  “I have not decided when I shall go, though it will be sooner rather than later. I was on my way to my estate for Christmas when my travel plans were disrupted. I would like to resume the journey soon.”

  “It might be wise to depart first thing on the morrow.”

  Now his curiosity was truly piqued. “Is there a reason you wish to be rid of me so soon, Miss Conway? Usually someone must know me longer to want me to leave quite this much.”

  It was hard to tell in the dim light, but it appeared Miss Conway blushed. “I do not mean to be rude, sir. However, might I be frank?”

  “Given what I observed earlier with the portraits, there is every indication to think so, yes.”

  “Lord Clayton’s sisters are but sixteen years old. And while some do marry so young, I do not think it would be in either of the girls’ best interest and especially not in yours to wed at this time. I believe Lady Angelique and Lady Anastasia require some time to, uh, reach their fullest potential.”

  Perhaps Colin had misjudged Miss Conway. Mayhap she was an escaped Bedlamite. Afte
r all, she had been talking to portraits. “I was not aware that I am betrothed to either of the twins.”

  “And it would be best if you do not become so. Not that there is anything wrong with them, of course,” she quickly added.

  “Of course. I was especially impressed by the fact they both beat their servants, which is a trait often wished for in a wife. Miss Conway, I have no desire to wed either of the girls. I have not even met them, but trust the opinions you expressed so delightfully earlier. Furthermore, I would not care to ally myself with Clayton. I know that is ungracious of me since he is providing my valet and me with food and shelter. But we did not care for each other in school and I daresay we would not like each other all that much as adults. However, what I would like to know is what gives you the notion that I would court either of his sisters?”

  Her relief was palpable, but it was quickly replaced by something else that looked like discomfort.

  “I have said too much already, my lord. I should go.”

  “I would rather you did not. Why are you ill at ease, Miss Conway? Unless….” He straightened. “Are you concerned for your safety? We are alone in a secluded area of the manor and I know the type of men Clayton associates with. You would be well served to never be alone with any of them. But I give you my word – I would never harm any woman. I will escort you anywhere you wish to go. However, I am most curious as to why you thought I would be interested in either of the girls.”

  She looked genuinely sheepish and he almost told her she didn’t need to reveal the reason.

  He almost told her, but did not.

  She sighed. “The girls were discussing you. They’d heard Lord Clayton had brought you home and they thought you might be looking for a wife.”

  Now it made sense. “You mean, they know I’m almost at point non plus and must marry a fortune or risk my sisters’ future, as well as my own?”

  “Yes. I believe Lady Angelique in particular would like to be a countess.”

  “Refresh my memory, if you please. Is she the one likely to end up with child, according to your earlier speech?”

  Miss Conway’s lovely eyes widened.