“Never.” Grateful beyond measure for Ellen’s kindness and understanding, Marianne reached out to clasp her hand. “Thank you,” she said softly, glancing from Ellen to Thomas and back again. “Thank you both so much.”
“You’re very welcome,” Thomas spoke for both of them, and Ellen squeezed Marianne’s hand in return. “What are friends for, after all?”
Chapter Six
)
I am lucky beyond belief to have such friends, Marianne mused as she let Jean dress her hair the following morning. Though she had only a plain gown to wear, it had been freshly washed, pressed, and returned to her that morning looking like new. She thanked Jean profusely, but the maid merely looked surprised before advising her Havers Hall had a positive surfeit of laundry maids who were more than happy to assist her.
“Will the rest of your wardrobe be arriving soon, my lady?” Jean enquired delicately as she inserted the last hairpin to support the arrangement of braids she had deftly woven from Marianne’s thick auburn hair.
“I’m afraid not,” Marianne admitted.
Jean pursed her lips thoughtfully. “You’re taller than Lady Havers, but more of a size with Lady Louisa, the last Earl’s daughter,” she said. “Caused a dreadful scandal last year, she did, running off with a footman from the London house. Left quite a wardrobe behind. Perhaps you might speak to Lady Havers about adjusting some of the things for your use?”
“I couldn’t possibly,” Marianne disclaimed, but she thought wistfully of the stunning gowns Lady Louisa Havers had been wont to wear. Thomas’ cousin, Louisa had hoped to become the next Countess of Havers by marriage to Thomas, but he had chosen Ellen instead and Louisa had disappeared in a scandal which had been the talk of London… at least until Marianne’s husband dropped dead the day after Thomas and Ellen’s wedding.
Jean looked thoughtful rather than accepting of Marianne’s refusal, and Marianne suspected the maid intended to approach the topic through a roundabout method, quite possibly via Ellen’s personal maid. Well, so be it. Marianne certainly could not ask herself, even though she would like something more elegant to wear.
Another young footman waited outside her door to escort her to the breakfast room, a completely different room from the one where they had eaten dinner last night, which Marianne learned now was called the Oak Dining Room, on account of the oak-panelled walls. There was also the Grand Dining Room, for when more than twenty were expected to dine.
“And are more than twenty expected at the house party?” Marianne enquired of the chatty young man. She had not attended such a large gathering since leaving London last year in the wake of her husband’s death.
“Not to stay at the Hall, no, my lady, but there are several occasions planned where more will be invited. Local gentry, you understand.”
“Indeed,” Marianne agreed, finding herself looking forward to the house party with enthusiasm. She had always enjoyed social events, though her pleasure had usually been curtailed by her husband’s severe restrictions. To have the freedom to dance and talk with whomever she pleased, male or female, was a much-longed-for treat.
Ellen was alone in the breakfast room, eating muffins spread with blackberry jam, when Marianne entered.
“Good morning!” Ellen exclaimed, pushing aside the newspaper she had been perusing. “Do sit down.” She waved at the seat beside her. “Would you like tea, coffee, or chocolate? Hugh will bring you some fresh. And please let Jacob know what you would like for breakfast.”
Two different footmen stood ready to leap to her command, Marianne noted with amusement. Ellen must spend her days thinking up tasks to keep all her staff busy. No wonder everything in the Hall looked so perfect.
“Tea would be delightful, thank you,” she told Hugh then turned to the other footman, “and I have a weakness for coddled eggs with buttered toast, if that wouldn’t be too much trouble for your cook?”
“Not at all, my lady.” Jacob bowed, and Ellen and Marianne were left briefly alone as the two footmen left hastily to fetch her breakfast.
Ellen smiled warmly at her as Marianne settled into her chair, and then to Marianne’s utmost surprise she said, “What would you like to do today?”
Marianne stared at her, mouth dropping open. She stared so long Ellen began to fidget, obviously becoming a little uncomfortable.
“Is something wrong, Marianne?”
“I was trying to remember the last time I was asked that question,” Marianne said with some difficulty, feeling tears welling, “and do you know, I don’t think anyone has ever asked me that.”
“Oh!” Ellen’s hand flew to her mouth. In her eyes, brimming with sympathy, Marianne saw her friend comprehended the depth of what her question meant. A choice, given freely to someone who had never had any.
The return of Hugh with Marianne’s tea put paid to the moment of emotion, though Marianne still had to take several sips and some deep breaths before she felt able to speak again. “What do you suggest?” she asked Ellen. “I should love a tour of the Hall, but if you have any other ideas, I am all agog to hear them.”
“A tour sounds just the thing,” Ellen said encouragingly, “particularly since it is set to rain all day today. After a year living here, I think I have my way around all figured out, at least. Or at last, I should say. I cannot tell you how many times I have got lost; Allsopp has had to send out more than one search party for me!”
Marianne laughed, as Ellen had obviously intended her to. “These huge old houses are the devil, aren’t they? Creighton Hall is much the same. While the front elevation looks both coherent and elegant, behind there is often a hodgepodge of alterations and additions which make the house into an absolute muddle.”
“Indeed,” Ellen nodded, “and despite having all the money in the world, the old Earl was an utter miser. He closed off half the Hall, didn’t employ enough servants to keep the rooms in good condition, and let them fall into disrepair. Thomas and I have been opening them up, redecorating, and commissioning new furniture, carpets, and curtains from local makers. With everything finally complete, we thought a house party a nice way to celebrate having the Hall fully open again.”
“Very nice,” Marianne agreed.
“But I do need your advice. Thomas hasn’t a clue, of course, and I… well, precedence is a bit of a mystery to me, still. It’s always been everyone else above, then me definitely at the bottom.” Ellen smiled wistfully. “I have no idea who should get the best guest suite: a dowager duchess or a marquis? Does the widowed sister of an impoverished earl come above the wealthy heir to a viscountcy?”
“The duchess, and yes, she would, because ladies always come before gentlemen,” Marianne said, laughing when Ellen looked dismayed.
“Thank God you did come early! I have it all wrong!”
“We’ll soon have it all sorted out,” Marianne promised as her breakfast was set before her with great ceremony. “As soon as I’ve done justice to this marvellous breakfast, you can go fetch whatever notes you have, and we’ll get to work.”
)
With Marianne’s experienced assistance and an army of servants only too willing to jump to her slightest request, Ellen soon had a plan for accommodating her incoming guests she was much more confident about. They spent the entire morning touring the house, examining the bedrooms and the linen, before discovering themselves quite famished when Allsopp appeared to delicately suggest they might wish to take a break for a light nuncheon which Cook had prepared for them.
“Is it near noon already?” Ellen asked, startled.
“I think it must be, for my stomach has been rumbling this last half-hour at least,” Marianne admitted.
Tucking her arm through Marianne’s, Ellen smiled. “I am an abominable hostess, as you see. Here less than a day, and already I am overworking and starving you!”
“Nonsense.” Marianne laughed at Ellen’s teasing. “I am delighted to be of use, I promise, and I find myself looking forward to meeting your guests.�
��
“Well, we will be an eclectic gathering.” Ellen led her back through the confusing maze of corridors to the central part of the house, and to the pretty parlour where they had taken breakfast. “I hope to make it something of a tradition, to gather at Havers Hall for a Christmas house party.”
“A charming idea, and you may count on my future attendance. If I am invited, that is,” Marianne added.
“Of course you are, and in future I will be instructing Thomas to send the coach for you, too, so that any further issues with transportation will be avoided!” Ellen was quite indignant on Marianne’s behalf, outraged that Arthur and Lavinia had denied her request to travel and effectively tried to turn her into an unpaid companion to their children.
“Thank you, my dear,” Marianne said, squeezing Ellen’s arm gratefully before letting go and taking her seat at the table.
Thomas came in to join them, and Ellen jumped to her feet to greet him, her face aglow. They shared a discreet kiss before taking their seats.
“How have you spent the morning, ladies?” Thomas asked as the footmen served them soup and bread, pouring cups of a cloudy apple cider which, served warm, was absolutely delicious. Marianne was unaccustomed to eating a proper meal at this time of day, but it was a pleasant idea, she found, and she was hungry from their exertions that morning.
Marianne sipped at her cup while Ellen expounded on their activities and Thomas listened with every appearance of interest, adding a few remarks now and then. He had apparently spent the morning with one of the tenant farmers, discussing that year’s crop yields and what seeds would be planted at the next harvest.
Marianne could not remember her husband ever concerning himself with anything so mundane, so workmanlike. He had left all such decisions to his land steward, content merely to count the profits and apportion some of them to his investment advisers. Another portion had been assigned to Marianne, with new gowns produced for her by London’s finest modistes every week. She had been nothing more to him than an ornament, something beautiful and expensive which nobody else could have. He had never encouraged her to take any part in the running of the household, though she was a viscount’s daughter and had been well-trained in the management of a great house.
Helping Ellen today was the most fulfilling thing Marianne had been permitted to do in years, and she found herself hoping Ellen would keep wanting her input and advice throughout the house party.
This must be what it’s like to have a brother and sister, Marianne thought as the meal went on and Thomas and Ellen included her happily in their chatter. Her brother had died fighting Napoleon when she was only thirteen, and he had been five years older, so she remembered him but little. Perhaps if he had lived, they could have been friends, at least.
She felt so very comfortable with Thomas and Ellen, confident she could tell them anything or ask for their help and have it freely given, without expectation of repayment. When Thomas offhandedly advised her he had sent two servants and a coach to collect her wardrobe from Cumbria and they should return before the house party began in earnest; Marianne was hard put to keep the tears from flowing.
It turned out you didn’t need to ask, sometimes.
Chapter Seven
)
A week later, Marianne felt as though she had been living at Havers Hall for half her life. On first name terms with every member of the (very extensive) staff, she now knew her way around the beautiful old house as well as Thomas and Ellen did. If she didn’t quite recall the name of every Havers ancestor in the portrait gallery, well, they weren’t her ancestors.
Marianne sat with Ellen in the large, beautifully-appointed front parlour where guests were usually received. The first guests for the house party were expected today, but at the moment since Thomas was out and about the estate it was just the two of them waiting, both settled in comfortable chairs by the fire with books in hand.
Reading was another joy Marianne had rediscovered. Creighton had all but forbidden it to her, not permitting her to purchase any books or join a lending library and refusing her access to his own library. Ellen, however, was a dedicated bookworm, as was Thomas, and they both liked to spend at least an hour or two a day comfortably ensconced with a book. Ellen had encouraged her to select anything she fancied from their eclectic collection, and Marianne had soon found herself enjoying that quiet hour spent between the pages, discovering the wondrous worlds which lived within the imagination.
The sound of hooves and carriage wheels caused both women to look up, and Marianne slipped a ribbon between the pages and closed her book regretfully.
“You can finish it later,” Ellen said with a smile, obviously seeing her regret.
“I’m enjoying it very much, I must admit. Turning down two suitors! Elizabeth Bennet was lucky indeed to have a supportive father who did not make her marry Mr. Collins, but I do hope her mother does not find out she turned Mr. Darcy down as well.”
Ellen laughed. “I will not spoil the plot for you, but I’m very glad you are enjoying it. I thought you would appreciate a story where the heroine gets the opportunity to say no - and to tell her unsuitable suitors precisely what she thinks of them!”
“Indeed, I do.” Marianne sighed happily. “I shall be honest - the greatest pleasure I am deriving from it is the certain knowledge that Creighton would have flown into a rage at the mere suggestion I should be permitted to read it.”
Ellen snickered. Over the last few days, they had become close enough that Marianne felt safe confiding in Ellen how much she had hated her husband, despised and feared him. There were some things about her marriage she doubted she would ever be able to talk about, but in a way, telling Ellen what she could had been cathartic. As they walked down the stairs to the front hall Marianne thought again how glad she was that Ellen had sat down beside her in the wallflowers’ corner where Marianne had been hiding from her husband at the ball where they’d first met.
Allsopp was opening the doors, with two footmen at the ready to hurry down the steps and assist the guests from the carriage drawing to a stop. Four handsome bay horses drew a carriage of superior quality, obviously very new, but with no family crest upon the doors. New money, Marianne assessed. Not that she cared. Creighton’s money was very old, and she despised every adult male member of that bloodline.
“The Alleynes,” Ellen murmured as a footman opened the carriage door and a handsome woman in late middle age, wearing a serviceable gown under a heavy woollen cloak, stepped down with a welcoming smile.
“I don’t think I know them.” Marianne watched as a gentleman with a balding pate and a kindly face stepped down next.
“Sir Tobias and Lady Alleyne - Isabelle. Their daughter Leonora made her debut this autumn. She’s a confirmed wallflower, but has the most beautiful singing voice; I will be begging her to entertain us in the evenings.”
Leonora was obviously the young lady stepping down with a shy smile and a word of thanks for the footman assisting her. With mouse-brown hair, a round pink face, and a figure a little too plump for fashion, Marianne could see why the girl was a wallflower. She would be no competition for the beauties of the Ton.
“She looks sweet. I shall be glad to know her and her parents.”
Ellen shot her a grateful look as the family ascended the steps to join them. They had been joined by a young man of about twenty years of age. Tall and thin, he had the same mouse-brown hair as Leonora.
“Welcome to Havers Hall,” Ellen said.
“Lady Havers,” Lady Alleyne said. “It is so good to see you again. Havers Hall is even more beautiful than I imagined. Please allow me to present our son, Joseph.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Alleyne.” Ellen offered her hand and Joseph bowed quite correctly over it. Marianne was very proud of Ellen then as her friend remembered the proper way to introduce persons of a lower rank to her; she turned to Marianne and said, “Lady Creighton, please allow me to introduce my friends Sir Tobias and Lady Alleyne, and
their children Mr. and Miss Alleyne. Marianne, Lady Creighton,” she turned back to the Alleynes, who bowed and curtseyed.
“It is a pleasure to meet any friend of Ellen’s,” Marianne said with a warm smile, offering her hand to Lady Alleyne, who looked a little overawed as she touched Marianne’s fingers lightly. “I am delighted to make your acquaintances.”
“Oh, we are most honoured to make your acquaintance, Lady Creighton!” Lady Alleyne gushed, her eyes taking in every detail of Marianne’s appearance. “Leonora, do make your bows, girl. And Joseph!” She looked to her son, who was staring at Marianne as though he had suddenly glimpsed Paradise. “Oh… I believe I have forgot something in the carriage. Joseph!” Succeeding in obtaining his attention, she sent him back for a handkerchief, even though Marianne could clearly see one peeking from her sleeve, and carried on talking without missing a beat, commenting on everything from the state of the roads to the charms of the rustic inn where they had stayed the night before.
Introductions made and Lady Alleyne finally running out of steam on her commentary, Ellen ushered the Alleynes inside and directed waiting maids to escort her newly arrived guests to the suites she had allotted them.
“We should be delighted if you would join us for a light nuncheon at one o’clock?” Ellen invited, and Lady Alleyne accepted for the family, declaring they would wash up and be down directly.
“They seem nice,” Marianne remarked as she and Ellen returned to the parlour.
“They are; I requested an introduction to Leonora after I heard her sing and was delighted with her. She looks a mousy little thing, but is very witty and clever. Sir Tobias invented a new type of ammunition during the war, for which he received his knighthood, and has invented any number of other clever things. I am always utterly fascinated by his conversation, when you can get him to talk.”
Which might be a little bit trying when Lady Alleyne is present, Marianne surmised. The woman seemed rather on the chatty side, though nice enough.
A Marquis For Marianne (Blushing Brides Book 2) Page 4
