Her sister raised her hand. “No, listen. I cannot stand to see you wring yourself out over this. Papa might be better tomorrow and may never realize any of this happened, but it's torture watching him belittle you. The best thing to do is wait for the moment when he comes to his senses. We'll send for you then. Effie and I already know you do not want to participate in this Season. In the country, you won't have to worry about it. It's for your own health, Eleanor. It is what Papa would want if he had his old personality back. Except he would not want to send you away, but...oh, you know what I mean.”
Eleanor shook her head. “Aunt Madeline will never allow that to happen. She will come for me herself. She's already said I cannot go to the house in Sussex. There is nowhere else. Besides, how will you explain my absence?”
Emma waved her hand. “I'll convince Aunt Madeline to tell everyone we let you go tend one of Mama's relatives in Scotland. Why shouldn't they believe it? You worry too much. Pack your things. Tomorrow I'll send a note to Adam. He will make sure you get out of the city safely. Let me take care of you the way a big sister should.” Emma opened her arms. “Do not worry about a thing.”
Eleanor allowed Emma to embrace her. Not worry? Impossible. Running was a sort of cowardice, but each time Papa had a fit because of her, it hurt him too.
“You're sure we can manage this?” she whispered.
“Consider it a gift. The moment Papa regains his self, we'll send for you.”
A DUKE WORTH HIS SALT
CHAPTER FOUR
Lanthrop House, surrounded on two sides by grassy land, overlooked a stretch of beach and the sea on the other sides. The cold air hung thick with salt—a refreshing scent compared to the crowded streets of London. Carriage travel was a trial that left Eleanor worn and sore, but the moment her feet touched the soil outside the fading manor, hope sprang up in her heart. Perhaps here she could leave the worries of Tipperstead End behind.
The red door swung open. An older woman in a plain brown dress with a dirty white apron over it stepped outside. No one followed. It seemed a presentation of the staff wasn't going to happen.
“I'll carry your trunks to the house, my lady.” The coachman began to unfasten the latches holding her two trunks on the back of the carriage.
“Thank you. That will be fine.”
The woman on the porch stoop approached. “You'll be Lady Eleanor, the lord's daughter.” Deep lines creased the woman's face. “I'm Betty, the groundskeeper's wife. My boy is helping his father with the sheep. Come in, my lady. The road from London is long.”
“I am weary, but so happy to be here. In my father's letters, he described Lanthrop Downs as a lovely place. I see every word was true.” She ducked her head. He'd done no such thing, but she didn't want to hurt Betty's feelings. The staff probably had their hands full with running the property without help from a lord. The house appeared rundown and weary. The exterior needed a good scrub and the windows were streaky. As Eleanor stepped inside, it became clear the carpets were old and dull from years of use.
“You should save the compliments for the ballrooms in London, Lady Eleanor. Lanthrop House is no longer in its heyday.” Betty led her upstairs. “There are clean linens on your bed. Fresh water in the ewer, though I can draw you a bath if you'd prefer. I'll fix up a tray because you must be famished. You're thin as a sick bird.”
Eleanor's face heated. The lace on her dress had drooped from the moment they left the last inn. Am I so unsightly? “Do not fret about a bath just yet. I would rather have something to eat and rest a while first.”
“Very good.” Betty gestured at an open door. “Your rooms, my lady. Should you have want of anything, ring the bell. It's meself, my daughters Ann and Lizzie, and Jack the night shepherd here. We stay year 'round and know every nook and cranny of the place like our own faces.”
“I will not trouble you for much, Betty. You have my word.”
If the old woman found it unusual that Eleanor had come to stay on her own, she didn't comment. Her long nose twitched. “Very good, my lady. Shall I fetch you an hour before dinner so you can dress?”
“That's perfect. I hope you won't go through any special trouble. I will eat whatever your family is having. There is no need to set up anything fancy for me.”
“Very good. Although, you'll want something nice to wear. The young duke across the way is joining us. He often does.” Betty gestured at the window. “Has that big old rambling manor to himself but for the servants. They don't approve of His Grace lowering himself to their company. Though if you don't either, I'll send one of the boys to keep him away.”
“The Duke of Greenebuck?” Eleanor pressed her hand to her cheek. “He is coming here?”
“Yes, my lady.”
The duke with sapphire eyes, in residence next door. She hadn't given him much thought since fleeing home, but she'd guessed he would remain in London for the Season. “He can't. Only my sisters and Lord Hangingham know where I am. It is important we keep it quiet or else my aunt will come for me.”
“Then I'll send one of the boys with a message as your ladyship wishes.” Betty bowed. “Rest easy. I'll have the boys carry up your trunks and I'll be in to unpack well before supper.”
Faded yellow silk colored the walls and a bay window overlooked a ratty, weed choked garden. There wasn't a speck of dust anywhere, but the room wasn't airy like her room at home. A musty scent permeated the chamber. The sheets were white and crisp, fresh as promised.
It would be lonely here without her sisters' company. Eleanor pressed her hand to the warm glass window. Having Goodwin over might relieve some of her homesickness, but she didn't have the courage to explain why she'd come to Sussex alone.
She sighed and rested her forehead on the glass. Goodwin. Those splendid sapphire eyes combined with his gentle smile. Why hadn't he remained in London to be dazzled by young women eager to catch a groom? What drew him back to Sussex? She couldn't recall hearing the name of his estate. Something to ask Betty upon her return.
The behavior the housekeeper had mentioned was odd. Why would the duke dine with her staff? Likely he was alone at his estate the same as her, but a man with his money and means could invite guests if he liked. There was no need for him to hide. He'd mentioned his father had passed, so he wasn't on the run from hurtful words.
Eleanor crossed to the bed, then stretched out across the quilt. Simple compared to the heavy duvet full of goose feathers at home. She already missed the bright white and pink of her bedroom walls, Effie's constant chatter, and the comfort of a home she'd always loved. It's not as though I cannot go back any time I please. Papa will regain his sense shortly. She rolled onto her side. Perhaps she should have stayed.
Too late now. Betty would no doubt be offended and think her childish if Eleanor ran downstairs and begged her to get the carriage back.
* * * *
“I'm afraid Jem never made it off the place, Lady Eleanor. It's too late to turn a guest away when he's on our doorstep.”
Betty's voice pulled Eleanor from sleep. “I beg your pardon?” Disoriented, it took a moment to recall that she'd ended her journey. Sleep clogged her mind. “Who is Jem?”
“My youngest. I intended to send him to Glassodder Head, however, His Grace has already arrived.”
Glassodder? And...Goodwin on her doorstep! Eleanor bolted upright. “Send him away. You did not tell him I was here, did you?”
“No, my lady, but he's already inside, seated at the table. He practically barged in and invited himself to dine with us.” Betty didn't seem troubled by the duke's presence. Her smile suggested she was perfectly happy with it.
Eleanor couldn't order him away. He'd learn she wasn't in London for the Season, and Aunt Madeline would be appalled at her rudeness.
“I am in no mood for company tonight. It would also be prudent to warn the duke that we aren't allowing visitors until further notice.”
Betty folded her hands together, clearly displeased with Eleanor's demands. “His Grace hu
nts on the wooded property, my lady. He's done so since he was old enough to carry a gun. Turning him away might cause a rift between your families.”
“Betty, I appreciate your concern for the state of my family affairs, but you are overstepping the bounds.” She took on her best Aunt Madeline tone. “Please feed our guest and allow him to stay through the evening if he likes, but he mustn't return without an invitation.”
“Very good.” The lines around Betty's mouth deepened as she pressed her lips together.
“I will have my supper sent up, if you do not mind. Thank you.”
“As the lady likes.” Disdain filled Betty's voice. “It won't be a few minutes.”
“My father will hear of this. You seem to believe you're above your station. He won't be pleased when he learns how you have treated me.” Horrified by her own words, Eleanor clapped her hand over her mouth. She sounded more like Effie than herself.
“Do what you must, my lady.” Betty curtsied, then left the room.
Shortly after, as she brushed tangles from her hair, a light knock sounded against the door. “Come in.”
A young woman brought in a tray. Her hair was glossy brown, but her eyes and mouth were the same as Betty's. “Good evening, Lady Eleanor. I hope you're hungry. We outdid ourselves tonight with a nice steak-and-kidney pie. I'm Lizzie, Betty's youngest daughter. If there's anything I can do for you, please let me know.”
Apparently Betty hadn't mentioned the terse scene between them.
“Thank you for the offer, Lizzie. It's a pleasure to meet you. Tell me, how often does the Duke of Greenebuck invite himself to dine here?” She laid her brush aside. “And for what reason?”
Lizzie blushed and ducked her head. “A few nights a week. He came every night when Lord Aldshire was in residence. They got to be great friends. The duke's staff are stiff as starch and won't break society rules. He must get awful lonely at Glassodder Head to come here.”
Funny, Papa hadn't mentioned his friendship with Goodwin. “Then you know him very well?”
Lizzie shrugged. “His Grace has a way with storytelling and he's dead sharp at card games. I don't think he cheats, he just has a head for remembering what's already been played. Same with his stories. The details are so real, you feel as though you're inside the tale.”
“Has your mother told you I ordered him to stay away from Lanthrop Downs?”
Lizzie's face paled. “Why?” She bit her lip. “I mean, why, my lady?”
“I do not wish to advertise my presence here. You must have noticed I arrived without a chaperon. That is improper, but to have a single gentlemen here is worse. Besides, if he started telling everyone he saw that I have come to Sussex, I would be forced to return home. I cannot go, not yet.”
Lizzie frowned. “Is there a scandal, Lady Eleanor? Something to do with Lord Aldshire?”
“No!” Eleanor's face heated. “We simply decided it was best if I came here to oversee Papa's properties while he's indisposed. I am very responsible.” She felt anything but capable of running more than a household.
“Forgive me, but your father was quite involved with the place. I know Lanthrop House is run down, but he wasn't so concerned with that as getting the land productive again. He stocked game and there are many sheep to tend. If you're truly here to oversee his projects, how will you be involved?”
Some of Betty's cheekiness crept into Lizzie's manner.
“I can ride and I have hunted often with my father. I'm very interested in the gaming side of the property. As for sheep, well, perhaps I can learn.”
“The duke is—”
“He will not have much to do with Lanthrop Downs while I'm here, Lizzie. He might be a dear friend of everyone in Sussex, but I have no need of such friends at this time.”
Lizzie's brow furrowed and her shoulders stiffened. “As you please, Lady Eleanor. Now, I'm supposed to unpack your things while you eat. If that's convenient for my lady.”
“Please do. You are a big help.” Hard as her heart ached, she wanted to be alone, but it would take her too long to unpack everything. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine it was Emma and Effie tearing through her room to borrow this or that.
A DUKE WORTH HIS SALT
CHAPTER FIVE
According to Betty, Lady Eleanor had come to Lanthrop Downs for reasons unknown. If her father was as out of sorts as the rumors claimed, then this news was more surprising than any coming out of London.
Lady Eleanor, fair of face, red of hair, and so polite when Daniel had assisted her after the carriage accident. Why would she turn him away from her door? He'd offended a fair few people in London, sometimes without intention, but largely with it. The more he went over their first and only encounter, the more certain he became that he hadn't done a blessed thing except help her. It was more than his father would have done, but less than Earl Aldshire's uncle Lord Paling would have. If anything, Daniel strove to be less like his father and more like his mentor. Instead of hiding away, he should have inquired after her before he'd returned to Glassodder Head. No wonder she avoided him. If he hadn't cared enough then, why should she care now?
He turned away from the window overlooking the sea. When he'd come to Sussex, he'd hoped for solitude to help him concentrate on writing his book. Since learning of her arrival, he'd thought of little except meeting with Lady Eleanor and gaining access to Lanthrop Downs. The ink bottle and quills went untouched. The redhead captivated his thoughts—tumultuous at the best of times—and drove him to distraction. He'd gone riding, hoping to catch her outside, but come up empty-handed so far.
Blank pages lay on his desk, begging to be filled. Unless he found a way to relieve his frustration, they'd soon be inked with flowery poetry about Lady Eleanor.
Pathetic, Goodwin. What would your father say about that?
Nothing, because he's dead, and good riddance.
If Daniel chose to wile away his time by the sea, not in London's silk and lace besotted society, it was his choice now.
He picked up a quill, then unstopped an ink bottle. If she wouldn't have him around for supper, then he'd invite her here. She owed him that much for helping her in a time of need. Glassodder Head, situated on the edge of a cliff above the sea had won the hearts of many. Lady Eleanor would be one more. He'd charm her, learn of her reason for coming to Sussex before the Season, and regain her permission to hunt on Aldshire's land. That, more than being snubbed by a woman, irritated him. For years, he'd bagged game in those woods and basked near the house's hearths. One silly female wasn't about to stop him. Perhaps that was the mark of his cruel father coming to life in him.
You are not that man, Daniel. You're better than him. Paling's voice seemed to echo about in Daniel's head.
“Too right I'm not.” He went back to the note.
* * * *
A soft knock drew Eleanor's attention from a book about animal husbandry. The passages were quite dry and left her overly sleepy.
Betty offered a crisp sheet of folded paper. “A message for you, my lady.”
Eleanor's heart skipped a beat. Could it be from her sisters or Aunt Madeline? “Thank you, Betty.” She accepted the note. The thick, creamy paper was unlike anything they had at home. Not from family then. A pang of disappointment plucked at her heart.
Lady Eleanor,
I humbly invite you to Glassodder Head for a meal and companionship this evening at six o'clock. I do hope this note finds you well and able to attend.
Yours,
Goodwin
She held out the paper. “Reply and tell him no.”
Betty's eyes widened. “Why ever not, Lady Eleanor?”
She lifted the book. “I am attempting to learn the sheep business. There is no time for dallying with peers, no matter how good their intentions. Besides, I have no chaperon. The duke shall have to suffer his own company.”
The housekeeper's shoulders slumped. “He'll be disappointed.”
As though I'm not? My fathe
r is gravely ill and I am here instead of watching Effie and Emma parade about in London. “As a gentleman, he will understand that I'm still very tired from the journey.”
“Very good.” Betty's nostrils flared and her mouth wrinkled at the corners. “Do try and rest up, my lady.”
The notes of contempt in the housekeeper's voice struck like shards of glass.
Why should I care about Betty's opinion? Her love for Daniel Goodwin is none of my concern. “Is your husband about?”
“Michael's assisting the smithy. Do you need him?”
“And Jem?”
“Watching the sheep, my lady.”
Eleanor rose from the lumpy armchair. “Then I will need Michael to take me up to Jem. This book isn't teaching me a thing. If I'm to learn the sheep trade, I need to experience it firsthand.”
“You really plan to become a shepherdess?” Betty's irritation faded to awe. “I doubt your father would approve, if you don't mind me saying.”
Eleanor's determination wavered. Wandering around outside while tending sheep seemed ridiculous. She should give up and return to London. Her gaze fell on the seashells the earl had collected. “I am sure he would encourage me to do whatever is necessary to make Lanthrop Downs prosperous again.”
Betty shrugged. “Then you may wish to dress in something plainer, my lady. Silk isn't well suited for the grounds where the sheep roam.”
She'd never felt more out of place than under Betty's critical eye. “For now my riding habit will have to do. I have nothing else. In a few days we may need to call out a seamstress for something plainer. Please tell Michael that I need his assistance, Betty. I shall be out shortly.”
To learn about sheep from a young boy of all things. She went to her room, then dressed in her riding habit. She'd need a better hat with a wider brim to keep the sun away from her face. Perhaps that could be purchased when she invested in simpler clothing.
Michael waited for her in the courtyard. His dark hair was streaked with grey, and brown eyes were deep set with crinkle lines at the corners. He didn't look pleased to see her. “Lady Eleanor. I must warn you, I do not approve of this venture. The sheep fields are no place for a lady. Your father would be unhappy if he knew I allowed this.”
Once Upon A Regency: Timeless Tales And Fables Page 36
