Lyon's Gate

by Catherine Coulter

  When Jason wound down, a silly grin on his face, Hallie said in a quiet voice to the dowager, “Perhaps you and I could visit Lyon’s Gate together.”

  The old lady chewed slowly on her ham sandwich, which had been shaped by Cook to look like one of the full oak trees outside the drawing room window. Slowly, she nodded. “Yes,” she said, patting Hallie’s sleeve, “I should like that very much.”

  Hallie finished a lemon tart. “We will visit early next week.” She grinned. “Do you know when I first saw Hollis only a while ago, I asked him if he was Moses?”

  “Moses? That crickety old man? Hmm. He does look rather like some ancient prophet, doesn’t he? I can remember the days when he chased down James and Jason, tucked them under his arms, and delivered them to their tutor, he was that strong. They were ten years old, I remember. What did Hollis tell you?”

  Hallie’s lip quivered. “He said no, he wasn’t Moses, he was God.”

  The old lady laughed, a cackle really, but it was full-bodied, even though it sounded like rusty nails grinding together. “Did you really, old man?”

  Hollis, who was serving some cream onto Corrie’s scone, finished what he was doing, then raised his head and smiled at the dowager. “Certainly, madam.”

  CHAPTER 15

  Five mornings later at the breakfast table, Alex said, “The messenger you sent to Mrs. Tewksbury returned today with her reply.” She handed Hallie a pristine white envelope, for the messenger had carefully wrapped the letter in a white cloth. She wanted to tell Miss Carrick it was her responsibility to pay the messenger, but that might be a bit heavy-handed.

  “Jason, listen. Angela is arriving at the end of the week!”

  Douglas said, “You know, Jason, you cannot move into Lyon’s Gate until it’s habitable enough for the ladies.”

  “I agree. However, I can.”

  Hallie said without missing a beat, “You’re going nowhere near Lyon’s Gate with a pillow and a bed unless I’m with you.”

  Douglas choked on his coffee.

  “My lord, are you all right?” Hallie was on her feet in an instant and sending the heel of her hand into Douglas’s back.

  “I’m fine, Miss Carrick,” Douglas said at last. He looked at Jason, who rolled his eyes.

  Hallie reseated herself. “I plan that all of us will move to Lyon’s Gate together.”

  Jason said to his relatives, “She doesn’t trust me. It’s an insult to my mother, Miss Carrick, and surely you would wish to rethink that.”

  “I beg pardon, ma’am. It is my experience, however, that sometimes the fruit falls some distance from the tree, through no fault of the fine tree.”

  “Is this a reference to rotten apples, Hallie?” Corrie said.

  “Oh no, surely not,” Hallie said, and grinned like a sinner.

  “As the tree in question, Miss Carrick, I forgive you,” said Alex, “However, I do not appreciate your insulting my fruit. You must realize that a tree will go to any length to protect her fruit, no matter how far away it falls. A tree can cast a very long shadow.”

  The twins and their father stared at the countess in awe. Jason said, “Ah, speaking as a cherished fruit, I thank you, Mother. Well, Miss Carrick, would you like to graciously ask my parents if they would allow Mrs. Tewksbury to spend some time here?”

  Hallie smiled at the countess of Northcliffe, who, she was certain, would prefer her to move to Russia. “My lady, I would be very grateful if you would allow both my cousin and me to remain here for a little while longer. It won’t be much more than a couple of days after she arrives. We’ve visited Mr. Millsom’s furniture warehouse in Eastbourne. We’ve selected fabrics and styles. Truly, well, perhaps three more days after Friday.”

  Such a bright, charming girl, Alex thought, wishing she could strangle her and toss her body in Cowper’s well. But it was not to be. “Certainly, Miss Carrick. That will be our pleasure.”

  Corrie said, “May I visit Lyon’s Gate today, Jason? See how everything is coming?”

  He nodded. “Don’t bring the twins yet. There is too much danger of them getting hurt. You know, Miss Carrick, three days might be about right. Perhaps four. Not everything will be finished, but enough.”

  “Oh that would be wonderful! It’s actually going to happen!” She jumped from her chair, grabbed Jason by the hand, pulled him up, and began to waltz him around the breakfast parlor. She was laughing and hopping about, and nearly struck the back of a chair. Suddenly she stopped cold. She was panting a bit. “Oh goodness, I don’t know why I did that. Do forgive me for making a spectacle of you.”

  He was laughing at her enthusiasm. “I didn’t mind. I haven’t danced with such enjoyment since just after dawn this morning with my nephews.”

  “What is this?” his father said.

  “They fetched me out of bed at five-thirty this morning. Actually, they jumped on me and began dancing on the bed.” Jason shrugged, grinned. “We had a fine time of it. Thankfully the little devils collapsed after about ten minutes and all three of us went back to sleep.”

  James said, “Their nurse was frantic when she discovered the boys were gone. Corrie and I didn’t panic, however. She stood in the dark hall and said to me, ‘Listen,’ and sure enough there was this muffled singing coming from behind Jason’s bedchamber door. We opened the door very quietly, and there he was dancing with the twins. We left. The next time we saw him was an hour later, one twin tucked under each arm, their heads on his shoulders, sound asleep, all three of them.”

  Jason’s smile slid off his face. “Corrie, er, you didn’t really look into the bedchamber the first time, did you? I mean, you didn’t actually see me dancing, did you?”

  “Oh yes.” She had the gall to giggle.

  He felt the flush rise to his eyebrows. He’d been naked. The twins’ nightshirts had left their feet uncovered, and those small toes had been cold.

  Corrie said to the table at large, “Neither James nor Jason wear nightshirts.”

  “Thank you for informing everyone of that fact, Corrie,” her husband said, now as red-faced as his twin.

  Hallie said, “It can’t be that embarrassing, Jason. You are your brother’s twin, and Corrie’s been married to him a good long time. No surprises, surely.”

  Jason’s eyebrow went up. “Isn’t that a tad indelicate for the breakfast table, Hallie?”

  “No more indelicate than what your sister-in-law said.”

  “But she lives here, has lived here since she was nearly three years old.”

  “Oh dear, you’re right. I am very sorry. Sometimes I speak before I think.”

  “I think all of us would like some more tea,” Alex said.

  Douglas said, “Did you dance with James and Jessie Wyndham’s children?”

  “Oh yes. We had competitions. I believe that Alice and I won the last one, only three days before I left.”

  “Alice?” Douglas asked. “Oh yes, she’s the youngest, isn’t she?”

  Jason nodded. “She’s all of four years old, has a mop of red curls, and a precious lisp. She sang the American anthem at the top of her lungs, all of it while we danced, demanded that I sing it along with her. Everyone was laughing so hard when we finished that Alice claimed the prize while everyone was too weak to argue.”

  Hallie said when everyone stopped laughing, “And what was the prize?”

  He opened his mouth, then closed it. “Nothing much of anything, really. Now, when was the last time you saw Mrs. Tewksbury?”

  “I was all of seventeen. My father and Genny asked her to visit Carrick Grange for the Christmas season. She’s in love with my father, but every woman is since he is the most beautiful man in the world. Genny paid it no mind since Angela is of the age to be Genny’s mother. She is something of an original.”

  “You honestly believe your father is more beautiful than James and Jason?” Corrie asked, her fork stopped six inches from her mouth.

  “Certainly. If the three of them were walking down th
e street, the ladies would all try to chase my father down. If my father were too fast to be caught, only then would they turn to James and Jason.”

  James said quickly, before Corrie hurled a forkful of eggs at Miss Carrick, “No matter. I am looking forward to meeting the original Mrs. Tewksbury.”

  Alex said, “As for me, I want to meet Hallie’s father.”

  Douglas said, eyebrow hoisted up, “You, my dear wife, may observe Alec Carrick from a distance if ever he chances to appear. Is that clear?”

  “You always order me about so prettily, Douglas.”

  James said, before Corrie could accuse Hallie of being a blind moron, “Now, Jason, you’ve had ten men hammering, painting, carrying wood, not including the three of us, and ten women scrubbing, with Hallie supervising all of us. You’ve agreed on furniture, have you not?”

  Jason said, “Surprisingly enough, we managed to come to agreement, for the most part, and that includes draperies and paint colors as well. I scarce remember how bad the house looked when I first saw it. And the paddocks, all freshly painted, the tack room—” and on and on he went, his family so very pleased they smiled and nodded and asked questions even though they’d heard this nearly same recital every evening. When finally no one could think of another question to ask him, James turned to Hallie, “When are you taking your mare to Lyon’s Gate?”

  She said, “Piccola’s stable is all ready for her, but she will remain here until Jason and I actually move to Lyon’s Gate. Did I tell you—”

  Unfortunately, Hallie wasn’t the long absent son of the house, and was cut off by Corrie. “Oh yes, you told us all about her, Hallie. Goodness, Jason, another week and even the furniture will be there. This is marvelous. And less than an hour’s ride from Northcliffe. We are all so very pleased, particularly my husband.” She beamed at him only to see that Hallie and Jason were now arguing in low voices. It was so common to see them going at it, she said something sure to snag Hallie’s attention. “Hallie, you’re very nearly as beautiful a woman as Jason is a man.”

  Hallie turned in her chair so quickly, she knocked over her teacup. She stared at Jason’s sister-in-law and found herself without a word to say. As for Jason, he was laughing.

  Hallie said, “Well, thank you, Corrie. However, truth be told, I am only a very vague copy of my father.”

  Corrie said, “Come now, Hallie, he’s your father, thus you see him with less objectivity than you would another man. Come now, admit it.”

  But Hallie shook her head. “Wait and see.”

  As everyone filed out of the breakfast room, Alex placed her hand on her husband’s arm. “Do you know, everything has changed so utterly since Jason came home. I’m quite enjoying myself.”

  Douglas looked ahead at Hallie and Jason, still arguing about God knew what, and said thoughtfully, “I wonder.”

  Alex said, “Don’t wonder, I beg of you. Can you believe that Hallie and your mother had a fine time visiting Lyon’s Gate? Hallie told me later that when she confessed to Lady Lydia her partnership with Jason, your mother told her to take the upper hand as soon as possible because her two precious grandsons were stubborn as stoats. But then again, she told Hallie, all gentlemen were stubborn and used to getting their own way. Since, she told Hallie, she’d lived eight decades she’d witnessed this many times and Hallie would be wise to take note of it.”

  Douglas laughed. “If you had been the one to tell her, she would have accused you of fostering immorality and God knows what else.”

  “Well, I must say I’m relieved that Hallie was the one who told her. I thought that at last she’d blast her.”

  “Don’t sound so disappointed.”

  “I can’t help it. Do you know that Hallie took both Lady Lydia and Hollis to Lyon’s Gate yesterday in the carriage? She even thought to bring a picnic lunch.”

  “Yes, I knew. Hollis was grinning from ear to ear, told me about everything going on, just as Jason does every single evening.”

  Alex sighed. “Why would Lady Lydia like Hallie Carrick so very much and detest me?”

  “I’ve thought about that. I think it’s because Hallie jumped her before she could get the bit in her mouth and chew on it. I think it would behoove both you and Corrie to learn a lesson from this. It might be too late, but who knows?”

  “Hmm. Are you going to work at Lyon’s Gate today?”

  Douglas shook his head. “With James gone all the time, I must see to business here.”

  She went up on her tiptoes, drew him down to her, and whispered against his ear, “I haven’t minded rubbing down your sore muscles, my lord.”

  “I married a baggage, thank God.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Lyon’s Gate

  Five Days Later

  “Everett! Don’t eat that nail!”

  Three adults and Martha ran toward the little boy, but his mother was the fastest. Corrie whipped him up in her arms, pulled the nail out of his hand, spit on her handkerchief and wiped his mouth. “No, no, no!” she yelled in his face and shook him for good measure.

  Everett stared at his mother, screwed up his face, threw back his head and yowled.

  His twin, Douglas, grabbed his mother’s skirt and yanked hard. Corrie, both hands trying to hold Everett still, crooned down to Douglas, “Just a moment, baby, just another moment, and Mama will pick you up too.”

  Everett’s voice went up another octave. Douglas screwed up his face, opened his mouth and matched his twin’s volume. Martha patted their hands. “Heavenly groats, my lady, me own little brother niv—never—made so much racket as these little nits.”

  Jason called out, “Who wants to waltz with me?”

  There was an instant of complete silence, then, “I do!”

  “I do!”

  “Me first, Uncle Jason!”

  Everett was trying to pull away from his mother and Douglas was jumping up and down, now pulling on Jason’s dirty pant leg.

  Jason, laughing, picked up Douglas and gathered Everett to his other side, and called out, “I need some music, please.”

  Hallie, who’d come running out of the house at Everett’s yells, didn’t hesitate. She started singing one of Duchess Wyndham’s ditties, written some twenty years before and still a favorite in the king’s navy. She sang it in three-quarter time to a popular waltz tune so the words fit the rhythm of a waltz, for the most part, making anyone listening laugh his head off.

  Jason whirled and dipped and glided. The twins laughed and shrieked. Every adult within one hundred feet stopped working to watch, and listen.

  “ ’E ain’t the man to shout ‘Please, my dear!’

  ’E’s only a lout who shouts ‘Bring me a beer!’

  ’E’s a bonny man wit’ a bonny lass

  Who troves ’im a tippler right on ’is ass.

  And to hove and to trove we go, my boys,

  We’ll shout as we please till ship’s ahoy!”

  Three of the workers knew the ditty and began singing along with Hallie. They were all swaying, then Mackie, a bricklayer, yelled to one of the women, “Meg, come dance wit’ me!”

  Soon there were at least four couples waltzing, Martha herself doing very well with young Thomas the blacksmith’s son, who had just celebrated his tenth birthday. Alex heard her say, “She’s my mistress, she is. Jest listen to those beautiful pipes inside her purty self.”

  The dowager countess, Lady Lydia, hummed and swayed in her chair, in blessed shade beside the front door, Angela Tewksbury at her side, laughing, trying to clap her hands in three-quarter waltz time.

  Hollis stood in the doorway smiling benignly, foot tapping. He caught Jason’s eye and pointed to the platter and formed the words lemonade, biscuits. Jason whispered in Everett’s ear, then in Douglas’s. To his astonishment, both little boys grabbed him around the neck and yelled,

  “Dance!”

  “Dance!”

  It required another full rendition of the sailor’s song before the twins decided they wanted
lemonade, all because Hollis was drinking a big glass, letting a dribble run down his chin, not three feet from them.

  Soon they were seated on a blanket in the shade next to Lady Lydia and Mrs. Tewksbury, a plate of cakes and biscuits on the blanket between them. They were jabbering in twin talk, each trying to grab the most cakes.

  “Give me water, Hollis,” Jason said, breathing hard. “Merciful heavens those two have more energy than Eliza Dickers. I don’t think even she wore me out as much as those two.”

  One of his father’s eyebrows kicked up. “A Baltimore belle?”

  Hallie sneered, her expression condemning as a nun’s. “Ah, yes, my lord. I understand that Jason’s belle, Eliza Dickers, could perhaps be considered something of a virtuous widow, once upon a time, before your son’s arrival to Baltimore.”

  Jason stiffened straight as the new fence poles he’d hammered into the ground only an hour before. He gave her a look to curdle butter and a voice to freeze the outskirts of Hell. “Eliza Dickers is a lady who is one of Jessie Wyndham’s best friends. She, unlike you, Miss Carrick, is an adult. She hurts no one, either with actions or words.”

  He turned on his heel and walked back to his brother.

  Hallie stared after him. “Oh dear.”

  Douglas said, “Why do you dislike my son so, Miss Carrick?”

  “Oh dear,” Hallie said again. “I didn’t mean—truly I didn’t, it’s just that I’m—”

  “You’re still furious with him because he owns half of Lyon’s Gate?”

  “No,” she said, staring at Jason whilst he spoke to his mother now, his hand on her sleeve.

  “Ah,” said Douglas’s father, and smiled at her.

  Hallie stilled. “I don’t like what you’re thinking, sir, even though I don’t know what it is, and I don’t ever want to know what it is.”

  She watched Jason raise a glass of water and down the entire glass, his strong throat working. His shirt, open halfway down his chest, was sweated through and clinging to him. The hair on his chest was dirty and shiny as well with sweat, which she wasn’t going to think about.