“What news? Your frown would suggest you aren’t going to deliver good tidings,” Edith said.
“He’s well, as far as I know,” Miles said quickly. “But I’ve just had it brought home to me how little I actually know Pensby.”
“Why? What’s happened?” Edith asked.
Miles related the information he’d gleaned. “I didn’t know his mother was ill. I knew she was alive, and I suspected there might be some condition or other which prevented her from travelling to London, but he hardly ever spoke about her at all. I’ve no idea what ails her, but if it’s the reason Ralph is always leaving London, it must be something serious.”
“He’s gone home,” Edith mused. She thought for a few moments and then turned to her brother. “We need to go to him.”
“What? No! He wouldn’t appreciate our interference,” Miles said quickly.
“Who is there to support Lord Pensby? Has he any other family? Close friends? Anyone he could call on for support?” Edith asked.
“Not that I know of,” Miles admitted. “I’m his closest friend as far as I know.”
“When we were in need of good friends yesterday, he helped without question or hesitation. In fact, he went above and beyond what most friends would be prepared to do,” Edith pointed out.
“Yes. He did.”
“Now, it’s our turn,” Edith said. “I have you and that thought got me through the worst of days over the last few years. Even though you weren’t there in person, I could write to you and garner support from your letters. I wouldn’t have known who to turn to or how to seek assistance if you hadn’t been there.”
“You did amazingly well,” Miles conceded.
“Thank you. But if Lord Pensby hasn’t got anyone to take his part, who does he turn to in times of real despair?” Edith asked.
“Men are different,” Miles answered. “We don’t ask for help, or need it. We just get on with what has to be faced.”
“That is the most nonsensical thing I think I’ve ever heard you utter!” Edith scolded. “Everyone needs help sometimes. It doesn’t matter whether one is a man or woman. Without support we all can flounder.”
Miles had flushed slightly at Edith’s words. “Fine, I accept what you say. But there’s nothing we can do if Ralph doesn’t ask for help.”
“Oh, is there not?” Edith asked, a gleam in her eye.
“Edith, I’m not going along with any more of your foolish schemes, so forget what you are about to say!” Miles responded quickly.
“That’s fine, but if you think I am about to abandon the man who jumped in to protect me without pause, or a thought for his own welfare, you don’t know me so well!”
“You’re bloody-minded, has anyone ever told you that?”
Edith smiled sweetly. “It’s no wonder my language is appalling with you as my example.”
“What do you think we should do?” Miles asked, resigned.
“Mother won’t be happy, but I think you should accompany me and although we’ll go home we’ll call at the Pensby home on our way,” Edith said, pleased that Miles was finally persuadable to her scheme.
“And the fact that Barrowfoot and Lymewood are in opposite directions?” Miles asked, raising his eyebrows at his sister.
“A minor detail,” Edith waved away his point. “If he has concerns on his mind such as his mother’s health, a little detail like we are heading in the wrong direction won’t be noticed.”
“You don’t get to be a successful gamester like Pensby is, by not noticing every tiny detail, I assure you.”
“Hmm. Fair point. We shall just have to invent a relative we are going to see. For a companion for me! Perfect. You must always hide a lie in a truth,” Edith said pleased with herself.
“You really do worry me sometimes, Edith. You really do,” Miles said with a shake of the head.
“All you need to concern yourself with is persuading Mother that she can do without you for a few days,” Edith said with a chuckle. “I don’t envy you that conversation, but as she isn’t speaking to me I can’t volunteer to have it in your stead. You always find a way to bring her around to your way of thinking though, so I’m sure you’ll be up to the task.”
“And who do I suggest that she ask to stay here with her? Because she won’t remain here alone,” Miles pointed out.
“No. I’ve thought about that. If she invites Miss Robinson and Miss Webster to stay for a week or so, she will have two perfect ladies to console her about what a poor situation she has. They can all agree that she has two ungrateful brats, who neglect her terribly. She’ll be ecstatic,” Edith responded, having thought through the whole scheme.
“I’m sure we’re not related,” Miles said shaking his head and standing. “I could never be as conniving as you appear to be.”
“It’s a case of needs must, dear brother. It’s all for a worthy cause in the end,” Edith said angelically.
“And what’s the cause?”
“To help a friend in need,” Edith said, as Miles left the room. “And secure myself the only man I could possibly marry, who’s been writing to me,” she whispered as the door closed.
Chapter 16
Edith looked out of the carriage window as it approached the village of Sandiford. It had been surprisingly easy to persuade Lady Longdon that she would be better off in the company of her friends for a few weeks than that of her children. The friends would agree with anything her ladyship gave an opinion of. Added to the fact their accommodation and food would be of a far higher quality than they were wont to eat at home, it was a perfect situation for them as well.
Miles had set off a little perturbed that he could so easily be replaced in his mother’s affections. Edith had teased him that his sense of self-importance had overestimated their mother’s maternal feelings.
Now, in the early evening they were entering the village which was only a mile or so away from Lymewood, the seat of the Pensby family.
The Red Lion was the best posting house in the village and the innkeeper was happy to have two of the best rooms rented by members of the Quality. Being so close to London, many people continued further before breaking their journey so overnight visitors weren’t as common as the innkeeper and his lady would have liked.
Once settled in and refreshed, Edith left her maid in her chamber and joined Miles in a private parlour. They sat to a warming meal of beef stew, lamb fillets and venison pie.
“I should go and see Ralph alone in the first instance,” Miles said, once they had made great inroads into the hearty meal.
“Oh no. He will easily bamboozle you into believing that everything is right and tight,” Edith said. “It will require the tact of a woman to get us in.”
Miles let out a crack of laughter. “You, my dear, are about as subtle as the Prince Regent’s waist.”
“Miles! That’s a terrible thing to say,” Edith gurgled with laughter. “I’m not so outrageous as you make out. And I assure you, you will need me there.”
“If I insist I go alone?”
“I’ll just go for a walk and if I happen on the parkland of Lymewood, who’s to say if I get lost…”
“I don’t know why I bother to argue. It’s easier just to agree in the first instance,” Miles groaned.
Edith smiled. “You are such a good brother.”
“I’m a pushover.”
*
Edith wasn’t feeling quite as confident as she’d sounded the evening before, once they were trundling along the driveway to Lymewood. She looked out of the window and chewed her lip as she anticipated what sort of reaction their arrival might cause.
Stepping down from the carriage, she was able to admire the red-brick Jacobean building which was the Pensby seat. It had ten windows either side of a large portico, which was clearly a more recent addition. The house was a contrast to Edith’s own home, which was a recently refurbished home in the Palladian style.
The door was answered by the butler and after Miles h
ad explained their visit and where they had travelled from, the servant showed them into an anteroom off the hallway.
“Lady Pensby is not receiving visitors,” the butler explained to them. “Neither is Lord Pensby at this time, but as you have travelled so far, I will take your card to him.”
“This is a bad idea,” Miles hissed at his sister when they were left alone.
“I know,” Edith agreed.
“Good God,” Miles muttered before starting to pace the floorspace of the room, his boots seeming to make an inordinate amount of noise in the quiet house.
Both looked up expectantly when they heard footsteps coming down the stairs, but it was the butler who reappeared, not Ralph.
“Lord Pensby has asked me to show you into the drawing room. He will be with you in a few moments. I have ordered tea to be brought to you,” the butler said, turning to lead the way up the stairs to the first-floor room.
When they were shown into the magnificent large bright space, Edith smiled at her brother. “We’ve made it through the door, that’s a good start,” she said, her confidence a little stronger. “He could have refused us entry.”
“There’s still time for him to throw us out,” Miles answered darkly.
It was around ten minutes before Ralph appeared at the door. He looked tired and one of his hands was wrapped in a dressing.
“Longdon, Lady Edith. What are you doing here?” he asked roughly; there was no welcome in his eyes.
Miles looked at Edith expectantly and with a grim look of ‘I told you so’ in his expression.
Edith swallowed. This was not how she’d imagined their reception would be. Noticing the dressing on Ralph’s hand and the way he avoided using the hand as he’d entered the room, her hesitation only lasted for a second.
“Oh, your hand! I knew you’d be injured from the fight, I just knew it! I had to see you for myself,” she said crossing over to Ralph. “Did you ride here, or take your carriage?”
“I rode,” Ralph answered, a little dumbfounded at her reaction to his cool greeting.
“You foolish, foolish man! Why would you put your hand under so much strain? If you’d have travelled by carriage, you could have rested it. Are the cuts not healing?”
Ralph looked at Miles, as if seeking his assistance, but Miles wisely just shrugged and left Ralph to his sister’s ministrations.
“I don’t think so,” Ralph said, trying to hide his hand from Edith, but his movement caused her to reach out and grab it.
“I must see your injuries. They must be bathed and properly cleaned. You can’t risk an infection.”
“It’ll be fine,” Ralph muttered.
“I’ll be the decider of that!” Edith said tartly. “Please allow me to ring the bell. I need some items if I’m to tend you.”
“I’d rather you didn’t,” Ralph said gruffly.
Edith paused. Looking into Ralph’s eyes was like looking into two deep pools of chocolate. He was trying to hide from her, she knew it, but he couldn’t hide well enough. “Please,” she said quietly.
Ralph nodded, closing his eyes for the briefest moment. He didn’t want her here. He didn’t want to be anywhere near her because when he was, he longed for her and that didn’t do either of them any good. Yet, it seemed he couldn’t refuse her anything.
Edith waited near the fireplace until the butler entered. “Could you please bring me a bowl of warm water, cloths and fresh dressing for his lordship. I’ll also need some brandy and honey,” she instructed.
If the butler was surprised at being given such orders by one of the strangers, who his master had cursed to the devil when he’d been told of their presence, he didn’t show it. Instead he bowed slightly and left the room.
“I knew it was the right decision to come here,” Edith said, ignoring the snort from her brother. “You would have neglected the wound and probably died of an infection! It isn’t brave to not attend to yourself you know.”
“Is she always this damned annoying?” Ralph asked Miles.
“She’s actually getting worse,” Miles admitted.
“Brats,” Edith responded, not taking the slightest offence at the insults.
As soon as the butler returned with a tray full of the requested items, Edith got to work. Unwrapping the bandage, she winced at the cuts which looked red and swollen.
“If you feel queasy…” Ralph started to say at her reaction.
“I grew up with three brothers, I’m not in the least inclined to nausea. I’ve seen plenty of gore over the years. Charles, in particular was prone to fall out of trees. Why the stupid boy continued to climb them, goodness only knows,” Edith explained briskly. “I’m just aware that these injuries were gained because of my actions. It’s almost as if I’ve inflicted them on you myself.”
“My fist would have had a softer target if I would be dastardly enough to punch you,” Ralph responded.
“Is that your way of telling me I’m fat, Lord Pensby? That’s very ungentlemanly of you.”
“N-no, I—” Ralph stuttered, but stopped when he saw the twinkle of amusement in Edith’s eyes. “Termagant,” he whispered.
Edith surprised him into a groan as, without warning she poured a liberal amount of brandy over his open wound.
“What a waste of decent brandy,” Miles muttered from across the room.
“Go to the devil!” Ralph said, gritting his teeth as the alcohol stung his injuries.
“Be brave,” Edith said with a laugh in her voice. “The next stage will be better. She patted around the area until the brandy had dried and then covered the wounds with honey.
“What are you doing now?” Ralph asked.
“Father always said that honey provided a barrier which stopped infection. I’ve no idea where he got the idea from, but it seemed to work with my brothers whilst they were growing. A pity it couldn’t help them at the end,” Edith explained.
“The downside is you smell like some sort of lightskirt’s cheap perfume,” Miles interjected with a chuckle.
“For God’s sake, Longdon! Your sister is in the room!” Ralph expostulated.
“I’m also used to base language,” Edith said. “And have been known to use it a time or two. I’m afraid I’m no simpering miss, which is part of the reason I would never have been a hit at any season. Even when I was straight out of the schoolroom. I’m a lost cause.”
Ralph looked as if to speak, but instead his lips set in a grim line. He didn’t utter anything else, until Edith had replaced his bandage with a clean one and sat back satisfied with her work.
“There! That’s better,” she said with a smile.
“Thank you, but there really was no need,” Ralph said gruffly.
“You should have stopped at thank you,” Edith chided. “There’s nothing nice about receiving a polite acceptance of a service, to then finish with a derogatory comment.”
Ralph looked at Miles as he stood to move away from Edith, but his friend just shrugged and laughed.
“Don’t appeal to me. I’d still be in London if I had any authority over her,” Miles admitted.
Edith calmly poured tea for Ralph and handed the cup to him which he mutely accepted. Once the cup was emptied, he spoke. “Thank you for coming, your consideration is appreciated. I’m afraid I’m not in a position to offer further hospitality.”
“That’s fine,” Miles said, rising. “Edith is going to Barrowfoot. This was a short diversion.”
“Of a few days,” Edith interjected. “We will be staying in the village, at the Red Lion, and I hope you will allow me to check on your hand in a day or two. I would hate to leave thinking everything was well and then to find out you’d caught an infection after all. I would have been happier if you had cared for the injuries from the start. By neglecting them, it’s just increased my concern.”
“Edith!” Miles said exasperated.
“I don’t need entertaining, or hand-holding, so you can explore the countryside to your heart’s conte
nt, brother. I will read in our rooms,” Edith said primly.
“And if you believe that, you’re a bigger fool than I am,” Ralph aimed at his friend. “I shall call on you tomorrow, Lady Edith. It is best that way.”
“As you wish,” Edith said regally, standing before curtseying to Ralph.
The brother and sister were shown out, leaving Ralph standing in the middle of the room. Rubbing his uninjured hand over his face, he let out a breath of confused frustration.
“What the devil is she trying to do to me?” he asked the room in general, before turning to what was left of the brandy and swallowing it in one gulp straight from the decanter.
Chapter 17
Lady Pensby was seated in the window seat in her sitting room when Ralph entered the room. Smiling he walked over and kissed his mother’s cheek.
“How are you?” he asked, his usual question on first seeing her.
“I’m feeling excellent. I’m going to venture downstairs today,” came the answer.
“Do you think that’s wise?”
“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t,” Lady Pensby smiled at her son. “You do treat me as if I have some sort of death wish, which I don’t.”
Ralph sat next to his mother. “I know. But I worry. You’re precious to me.”
“As you are to me, my love. But you can’t keep me cosseted forever. That isn’t the type of life I wish to have, as you wouldn’t wish it either,” she said gently.
“No.”
“I hear there have been visitors to the house,” Lady Pensby said with an arch expression.
“Bloody gossiping servants,” Ralph muttered, at which his mother laughed.
“Yes. Thank God for them, or my days would be very tedious,” Lady Pensby defended her loyal staff. “So, who were they? And why didn’t you send a message for me to come and meet them. We have so few visitors these days, it’s cruel to keep any we do have away from me.”
“You are too unwell to be tiring yourself out on callers,” Ralph said.
Lady Pensby’s face darkened. “Don’t you dare try and dictate to me!” she said roughly.
Lady Edith's Lonely Heart: A Regency Romance (Lonely Hearts Series Book 1) Page 13
