A Conspiracy of Ravens (24 page)

Edward could not help smiling. “She brings sunshine into this house. She always has. I hope she can help Trevor.”

Trevor approached the sideboard where breakfast had been set out. For him it was shocking how the people of Silverthorn ate. He was accustomed to eating whatever was available for breakfast, usually bread with butter and some sort of jam. Meat had been scarce in his diet, at least for breakfast.

Now as he approached the sideboard, he saw that it was laden with chafing dishes filled with eggs, meats, vegetables, various baked pastries, and breads. He glanced over to the table and noted that it was covered with pots of tea, dishes of preserves, butter, fresh fruits, and sweetmeats. He watched Arthur, who was immediately in front of him, pick up the knife and cut a thin slice of ham off of the shoulder, and Trevor did the same. He was clever enough to understand that part of his training here would be nothing but pure manners. He had also discovered that a lifetime of one kind of manners is not easily thrown off. But he had learnt to take soup out of the side of the spoon, and by watching carefully and staying one step behind the others at the table, he had managed to use the proper silverware. Now he filled his plate mostly with scrambled eggs, deviled kidneys, and sausages, which he had discovered he liked very much.

He took his seat and was intensely aware of the enemies he had sitting at the table with him. He had no illusions about the three, including Rupert Hayden, who made no attempt to hide his animosity and even now was glaring at him fiercely.

He was less certain about the intensity of Leah St. John and her son, Bramwell St. John. Leah had been cold enough to him, but St. John, on the other hand, had been fairly friendly. How much of this was real and how much was an act was a matter that Trevor had yet to figure out. He glanced across the table where Arthur and his golden-haired daughter sat. Arthur, from time to time, offered a bit of conversation, and the girl, Gervase, was friendly enough.

“Trevor,” Edward said, “I’m going to London tomorrow. I would like for you to go with me.”

“Wot for, sir?”

“Oh, I have some business there, and we need to go to the tailor and get you some clothes made.”

A stubbornness rose suddenly in Trevor. He resented being molded into something he was not, although he knew that Lord Darby and his wife wished it greatly. “I ’ave clothes already, sir.”

“Oh, you need formal clothes,” Gervase said quickly. “You’ll be going to balls and things like that. You need quite a few things. Listen to your father. He loves new clothes.”

“I don’t know as I love new clothes any more than any other man,” Edward protested.

“Yes, you do, Uncle Edward. You’re quite given to foppish attire.”

St. John suddenly laughed. “She has you there, sir. Of course, I like foppish attire myself.”

Edward blinked with surprise and stared at Gervase. “I think a gentleman should wear nice clothing. I wouldn’t call such things foppish attire.”

“I was only teasing, Uncle. Perhaps I’d better go along with you so that you’ll get a woman’s side of the matter.” She winked at Trevor and asked, “Don’t you think that would be a good idea, Cousin Trevor?”

Trevor never knew how to answer this young woman. He did like her spirit though. “That would be fine with me.”

“No, this is a matter between me and my son. You’ll have to arrange other activities for yourself.”

The breakfast continued, and Trevor was intensely aware of the looks that he got from his mother. He still had trouble thinking of her as his mother. He had discovered that knowing the truth was one thing, but accepting it was another thing altogether. He had gone over and over in his mind the strange circumstances of his life and wondered at the ease with which Lord Darby and Lady Heather had accepted him. He had found out quickly enough from Lady Trent and Dylan Tremayne that the pair had lost their child, but he could not see that he could take the place of that longing. In his mind there was no separating the rearing of a child from young adulthood, but that was not so with these two. They accepted him wholeheartedly, and he felt the burden of becoming what they wanted, even when he had no heart for it. His life had been bad enough, but it had been his. Now he was forced to think differently, speak differently, act differently, eat differently. Everything was different, and the strain was taking its toll on him.

After breakfast he went up to his room and sat there for a time staring out the window. It was a cold day outside. Christmas was coming, but Christmas had never been a big day in his own life. He could remember only a few small gifts and had usually celebrated it by getting drunk with the rowdy group he ran with.

Finally growing bored with the room, he left, and as he was going down the stairs, on the landing he met Rosie, the pretty maid he had noticed earlier. She had a very good figure and beautiful auburn hair as well as a smooth complexion. As they passed, she said, “Pardon me, sir.”

“Wot’s yer ’urry?”

Rosie looked up, and her eyes widened. They were beautiful hazel eyes, and Trevor smiled at her. “You’re a pretty girl, Rosie. I don’t know as I’ve ever seen a prettier one.”

“Please, sir, you mustn’t say those things!”

“Why not? They’re true enough.” He suddenly reached for her and kissed her before she could move.

“Oh, sir, you shouldn’t do that!”

“Why, Rosie, I thought you liked me.” He held her closely and noticed that she made little attempt to get away from him.

Suddenly a voice said, “Are you busy, Cousin?”

Caught off guard, Trevor turned and saw that Gervase had walked up the stairs and now stood smiling at him, mischief in her eyes.

Rosie pulled away at once and fled up the stairs. Her face was flushed, and she was visibly upset.

Trevor glared at Gervase. She was wearing a riding costume, he noticed, but he was angry and embarrassed for some reason.

“Been doing a little snoopin’ are you?”

“Not at all.”

“Yes, you were. Go on, tell me I was out of line. That I wasn’t behavin’ right.”

“All right. You were out of line.”

Trevor grew irritated. “She wasn’t puttin’ up no fight.”

“Trevor, she couldn’t put up a fight.”

“If she didn’t like me, she could.”

“She doesn’t like you.”

“Why’d she let me kiss ’er then?”

Gervase shrugged, and her voice was easy and natural. “She didn’t have any choice. That’s the way it is with pretty young maids. When the young master of the house forces himself on them, what are they going to do? Are they going to scream and slap his face?”

“That’s wot she ought to do.”

“Then she’d be put out of the house without a character reference. She’d have a hard time finding another job, and you don’t realize how hard it is on an attractive woman who’s a servant in a big house like this. They’re at the mercy of the owners. How could they complain? Some of them get with child, and then they are simply pushed out of the house, perhaps with nothing.”

“Well, that ain’t right.”

“That’s the way it is though, and that’s why you need to be careful. They don’t have many friends, young girls like Rosie.”

Trevor stopped, gnawing his lower lip. Gervase could see his mind working quickly. Finally he shrugged, “I didn’t know all ’at.”

“Well, of course you didn’t, but you know now, and I’m sure you’ll keep it in mind. Come along.”

“Come along where?”

“I’m going to take you for a ride.”

“You mean in the carriage?”

“No, silly. On a horse. Have you ever ridden?”

“Never been on a ’orse in my life and don’t want to.”

She suddenly reached out and took his arm. “Yes, you do. It’ll be fun. Come on. Go put your heavy coat on. It’s cold out, and then we’ll introduce you to a horse.”

Trevor was of a mind to refuse, but he found himself warming to the young woman’s outgoing warmth. “All right.” He went back to his room, got his coat, and the two stepped outside. They were at once confronted by the huge dog that Trevor had noted before. The Great Dane advanced, his eyes on Trevor.

“Wot’s ’e coming at me like that for?” Trevor demanded nervously.

“He just needs to be introduced. Here, Jason. You be nice.” She stooped over and put her hand on the dog’s head. “This is Master Trevor Hayden. He’s a good friend of mine, so you be nice to him, you hear?” She looked up and smiled. “Now put your hand out and let him smell it.”

“’E might bite it off.”

“Nonsense! Don’t move quickly. He’s careful who he makes friends with. If you don’t, he might think you want to harm me, and then I couldn’t answer for him.”

Trevor laughed. “Some bodyguard you got.” He put his hand out, ready to draw it back at the first sight of fangs, but the big dog smelled it carefully.

“Now, pat him on the head.”

Trevor did so, still moving carefully.

“Now, kneel down beside him and put your arm around him and call him a sweet name.”

“I ain’t calling no dog no sweet name.” He knelt down nevertheless and put his arm around the big dog. “’E’s a monster, ’e is! You ’ad ’im long?”

“Since he was a puppy.”

“Why’d you name ’im Jason?”

The two stood up, and Jason seemed pacified as they walked toward the stable. “When I got him my father had been reading me stories from Greek myths, and in one that I loved there was a character called Jason. Have you ever heard the story of Jason and the Argonauts?”

“No, I ain’t ’eard many stories.”

“It’s about a young man who had to go on a quest to recover the Golden Fleece.”

“The Golden Fleece? Wot was that?”

“Oh, it was a golden ram that saved some people. He was sacrificed to the gods, and his fleece was hung up.”

“Wot did Jason ’ave to do with it?”

“He was a hero. He had been robbed of his kingdom by a wicked uncle, and now he had been sent off to get the Golden Fleece and bring it back. Many heroes had gone looking for it, and all of them had died because a monstrous dragon guarded it.”

“There ain’t no such things as dragons.”

“Of course not. It’s just a story, but it was so much fun.”

“Well, did ’e get the bloody fleece or not?”

“He got there, and a woman named Medea helped him. She cast a spell on the dragon, and Jason stole the fleece and came home.”

“Wot happened to the woman?”

“Well, they got married.”

“And lived ’appily ever after?”

“Well, actually not. I never liked the ending of that story. Medea was an evil woman really. She actually killed three of her own children.”

“I wouldn’t like a story like that. I like ’appy endings.”

“So do I, so I wouldn’t let Papa tell me the ending. But it was exciting how Jason was so heroic and brave and strong.” She laughed, and he was amazed at how free she was. “You’re like Jason, Trevor.”

“Me a ’ero? Not likely!”

“Well, I mean he had to go looking for something that was almost impossible to get, and that’s what you’re doing.”

“I don’t know wot you mean by that.”

“I mean it would be as easy to get the Golden Fleece as it is for you to become a gentleman, to fit yourself into Uncle Edward’s idea of what his son ought to be.” Her words caught at Trevor, and he felt the truth of them.

“I can’t never do it,” he said bitterly. “You ’ave to start when you’re a baby to be a lord.”

He said no more, and neither did she urge him on, for they had reached the stables. Tim Moorhaven, the groom, came out. “Tim, we’re going for a ride. Saddle Juliet for me.”

“Yes, and you, sir?”

Trevor wasn’t used to being called sir, and Gervase said, “You have a choice. You can have an older, steadier horse. We’ve got one called Oscar. It’s like riding in a rocking chair.”

“Wot else is ’ere?”

“Well, you can have a better horse, but he will have some spirit. You might fall off.”

“I’ll ’ave ’at one,” Trevor said instantly, challenged by her words.

She laughed and said, “Saddle Prince for Master Trevor.”

“I don’t know, miss. He’s quite lively if the gentleman ain’t rode much.”

“Saddle the bloody ’orse,” Trevor said.

The two stood there, and Trevor watched carefully as the horses were being prepared. He was aware that Gervase was studying him. “Why do you want to take a chance on falling?”

He turned to her and laughed. “I didn’t want you to think I was afraid of a bleeding ’orse.”

“I wouldn’t think that.”

“Why not?”

“I just don’t think you’d be afraid of most things.”

“No? Well, wot do you think I’m afraid of ?” he challenged her.

“Like all the rest of us, Trevor, you’re afraid of things you don’t know and things you don’t understand. I’m that way myself.”

He hardly knew what to make of her speech, and finally Moor-haven brought the horses out. He helped Gervase on and then said, “Sir, you get on from this side.”

Trevor glared at him. “I don’t see wot difference it makes.”

“It makes a difference to the horse, sir. They don’t like things they’re not used to.”

Trevor clumsily got on, and he felt very high off the ground. He turned and looked at Gervase who was smiling at him. “Wot do I do now?”