A Midsummer Bride (2 page)

Harriet Redgrave held her hands together so no one would notice how they were shaking. She had feared her meeting with Lord Langley would not go well, but somehow she had harbored hope that she would find him kind and understanding. Unfortunately, she now understood why her mother had taken flight.

They waited in silence, her grandfather in mute disapproval, his friend, or guard or business partner, standing by his side. If there were a prize for tall, dark, and brooding, Lord Thornton would win it. With his short black hair and gray eyes he made for an imposing figure. What he was thinking she could only guess, but she feared not much escaped his gaze. She clasped her hands together harder. She would not show weakness.

Nellie Bowler entered and made a polite curtsy to the esteemed personages assembled in the room.

“Nellie!” exclaimed Lord Langley. “Is it you?”

“Yes, Your Grace, it is I,” said Nellie.

“But how… how is this possible?” Langley stuttered.

“I went with my mistress,” said Nellie simply.

“You went with Beatrice? You went
with
her?” Langley’s tone rose higher. “All this time I thought you ran off in shame, and now I learn that you helped my own daughter, my only daughter elope. With an American! How dare you ever show your face here again?”

“I am here with Lady Beatrice’s daughter.” Nellie’s tone was even, but her voice was an octave higher than usual and Harriet could tell she was rattled.

“The point of Nellie being here is not so you can chastise her, since she is so far out of your employment as to be irrelevant, but to demonstrate to you who I am,” said Harriet, hoping to turn Lord Langley’s fire away from her maid.

Bushy eyebrows clamped down over Langley’s eyes. His mouth formed a firm line. “Even if you have Nellie here, why should I believe a word either of you say? How do I know you both did not concoct this story to cheat me out of my money?”

“For the last time, I do not wish for your money.” Harriet shook her head as if reprimanding an errant child. She went to one of the trunks, unlocked it with a key from her reticule, and pulled out a smaller case. She opened the case with a separate key, producing a leather pouch. She thrust the pouch at Langley. “Open it!” she demanded.

Lord Langley did so cautiously, as if the contents might jump out at him, but suddenly he became quite interested and pulled out a handful of gold coins, inspecting them in the light.

“My name is Harriet Redgrave.” Now that she had his attention that fact bore repeating. “My mother is Lady Beatrice, my father is Captain Redgrave. The sea has been good to my father; he has taken many a ship, many an English ship, during the war for independence. I have no need of your money, Lord Langley. I have quite enough to carry on my own.”

“Your father would let you carry a fortune in gold unprotected?” asked Langley.

“No! I was not unprotected. I was being escorted by a dear family friend, Captain Wentworth, to meet my parents in New York. They initially had planned a short visit, but my father was recently offered a position with the United States government. Since they would be living in New York for a while, I went to join them and I packed everything I would need, including my laboratory equipment and some funds from the family vault.”

“Laboratory equipment?” Thornton asked with a raised brow. It gave her a strange tingle, the Scottish lilt to his voice. She wished he would talk more just to hear it.

“I am an amateur scientist in the new field of chemistry,” explained Harriet. “Though my visit to London is unplanned, I do hope I can meet some of the scientists that heretofore I have only read about in their published papers.” This pronouncement was met with silence, as it usually was. Harriet sighed. Her scientific interests were generally met with blank looks. She had hoped perhaps it would be different in a more elite set in London. It was not.

“I cannot see this as anything more than a wild tale. I will grant that you have imagination, but nothing more will you win from me.” Langley folded his arms across his chest.

“I would be willing to sign papers relinquishing any claim on your inheritance immediately,” declared Harriet. “Besides, would not my older brother be heir, not me?”

“Beatrice has a son?” Langley asked Nellie.

“Four of them, all strapping lads, and of course Harriet here,” replied Nellie.

“Five?” Langley sat down hard in his desk chair, as if overwhelmed by the weight of the circumstances before him. He shook his head, as if fighting off belief. “No, no, I will not be fooled.”

“If I may suggest,” Lord Thornton said in his rich, earthy tone. “Miss Redgrave, do you have any items from Lady Beatrice? Any letters? Something that connects you to her?”

Harriet opened her other trunk to retrieve her mother’s last letter to her. She had read the happy missive several times during her voyage to England, hearing her mother’s cheerful voice and wanting to believe someday they would be reunited.

“This letter is from my mother.” She handed it to Lord Thornton. She was glad he was here since he seemed to be an impartial judge in the situation. Despite having just met the man, she felt he was someone she could trust.

Thornton opened it and Langley stood to read the letter beside him.

“It is signed ‘Your Affectionate Mother,’” accused Langley. “It could be from anyone.”

“Is this your daughter’s handwriting?” asked Thornton. “Do you have any old letters from her?”

Lord Langley stilled and his head bowed, as if he had been caught committing a crime. He sighed and went to a wall of books. He pulled out what looked to be some large volumes but actually was a false front. From behind it, he pulled out a locked trunk and placed it on his desk. Everyone in the room stepped closer, wondering what was in it.

Langley took a key attached by a small chain to his watch fob and unlocked the trunk. He looked up at Harriet for a moment, opening his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again and shook his head. He opened the trunk and stepped back, allowing the others to see what was inside.

“Unopened letters?” Thornton peered inside.

“Unopened letters from my mother!” Harriet grabbed a handful and shoved it at her grandfather. “Did you never even read her letters?”

“As long as the letters kept coming, I knew Beatrice was alive,” Langley said weakly as he lowered himself into his desk chair.

“You never wrote her one letter and yet all these years she continued to write to you,” Harriet said in a soft voice. “What a good daughter she is to you.”

Langley took out his handkerchief to wipe his eyes and blow his nose.

“May we open one of the letters to compare the writing?” asked Thornton, getting back to the business at hand.

Langley nodded and Thornton opened the most recent letter. He spread out the two letters side by side on the desk.

“The writing looks the same to my eye,” stated Thornton.

Langley took a deep breath and nodded.

“What are these boxes?” Harriet pointed to the small packages stacked neatly in the trunk to the side of the letters.

“I never opened them,” said Langley in a small voice.

“Perhaps it is time,” suggested Thornton gently.

Langley nodded and opened one of the packages. It was a small miniature in a gold frame, featuring a drawing of a young man.

“Why that is Matthew, my oldest brother,” declared Harriet.

The next three packages produced miniatures of her other brothers, Mark, Luke, and John. “My mother was influenced by biblical names,” explained Harriet. “I do not know where ‘Harriet’ came from.”

Langley opened the last package with shaking hands. He looked carefully at the miniature then clasped it to his chest.

“Is it me?” asked Harriet softly.

Lord Langley nodded. “Harriet was the name of my mother.”

***

After a heart-wrenching acceptance between Lord Langley and his long-lost granddaughter, Thornton felt it was long past time for him to remove himself from the scene. Harriet’s maid also indicated she should present herself to the servants hall, and everyone walked out into the entryway. Lord Langley excused himself for a moment to find the housekeeper to arrange a bedchamber for Miss Redgrave and Nellie followed him, leaving Thornton momentarily alone in the entryway with Miss Redgrave.

These were moments he dreaded. Alone with a young lady. Particularly after the emotional exchange he just witnessed, the usual topics of banal conversation seemed even more awkward. Weather? No. Refreshments? No. Politics? Definitely not. General compliment on appearance?

Thornton searched her person, looking for an easy target for a compliment but came up short. He was far from being a connoisseur of fashion, but even he could tell there was nothing remarkable about her coat or bonnet. Yet she had just been through an ordeal and the silence was growing. Something needed to be said.

“It must be nice to be so verra tall,” he blurted. Tall? Had he just commented on her height? It would have been better to say nothing.

Instead of being offended, she gave him a slow smile. “Yes, I am tall. Most people pretend not to notice. My father and brothers are even taller than I, so I do not feel so out of place.” Much to his surprise she walked closer and stood next to him shoulder to shoulder. “You are even taller than I.”

“Aye.” His heart raced. She was very close. It was actually nice for once to have a lady be more at eye level. He was taller than most men and towered over the women of his acquaintance, but here was a lady he could talk to without feeling freakishly large.

“It is nice to find a man with height to him. It reminds me of my family.” There was a sadness about her mouth when she spoke.

“You must miss them,” he said.

“Very much.” She blinked as if fighting back a tear.

Thornton was touched. Unlike most societal ladies who presented an air of poised disinterestedness, Miss Redgrave’s emotions were apparent and raw. It gave him courage to speak from his heart as well. “Ye have been verra brave to face such adversity, not to mention standing yer ground against Lord Langley.”

Miss Redgrave’s shoulders relaxed as if freed from burden and she graced him with another smile. “Thank you. You are very kind. I am fortunate that you were here tonight. I doubt my grandfather would have listened to me had you not been the voice of reason.” She reached out and shook his hand. “Thank you.”

Thornton was surprised by the gesture and feel of her bare skin against his own. Her hand was surprisingly delicate and cold.

“Yer hand is so cold,” he said in a voice so low it was almost a whisper. Instinctively he enclosed her hand in both of his to warm her.

“I was more nervous than I should like to admit,” she said in a soft voice.

“Here we are now, everything is ready,” bellowed Lord Langley, entering with the housekeeper following behind.

Thornton dropped Miss Redgrave’s hand and jumped back as if he had been caught molesting her.

Miss Redgrave dropped him a curtsy and followed the housekeeper up the stairs to her bedchamber.

“Thank you for keeping her company for a few minutes,” said Langley with a smile. Thornton was relieved Langley had either not seen the handshake or was not concerned by it.

“I am pleased ye have been reunited with yer family,” said Thornton politely.

“Can’t lose her too,” mumbled Langley, glancing around to make sure Miss Redgrave was no longer within sight. “No, I shall learn from past mistakes.”

“Past mistakes?” echoed Thornton.

“Beatrice. Should have married her off as soon as it was legal. A wedding would have kept her close to home.”

“I am no’ sure marriage—”

“Marriage!” interrupted Langley. “That is what we need.”

“Whose marriage?” Thornton was lost.

“Harriet’s marriage of course.”

“Did she not say she would return on the next ship to America?”

“Need to act fast, good thinking.” Langley rubbed his hands together. “What about your house party, my lad? Might be just the thing to find her a husband.”

“Ye be welcome if ye wish, but—”

“Good, good. I have a chance to redeem my reputation here. I shall have her married to a lord at the very least, or a duke, or maybe even a prince.” Langley looked him up and down like he was choosing a horse at Tattersall’s. “Even a Scottish earl might do,” he muttered.

Thornton edged toward the door. “I shall bid ye a good night.”

Langley cast him a conspiratorial grin. “I will see the girl married respectably this time. And you’re going to help me do it!”

Harriet awoke in a strange, ornately decorated bedroom, and it took several moments to remember where she was. It all came back in a tumbled heap. She had been accepted by Lord Langley, introduced to the servants, given a hastily prepared welcome dinner, at which she sat at the far end of a long table from her grandfather. They ate in silence with no less than four footmen in attendance. At the end of that odd charade, she had been given her mother’s old bedroom, where she took her first opportunity to write a letter to her parents, and gratefully fell asleep.

Despite everything that had happened, many of her thoughts circled around one man, and it was not her elderly grandfather. Lord Thornton factored prominently in her thoughts and even her dreams. She had never before been so afflicted, and was not sure what to name this growing interest in a man she had only just met.

True, Lord Thornton was a handsome man, and true he had been kind to her. Perhaps it was simply finding a friend in a strange land that had her so captivated. That must be it. Yet she found herself anxious to meet her “friend” once more.

“I see you are awake.” Nellie bustled into the room with a wide smile. “Well now, such doings I don’t know what to make of it. They gave me my old room, can you imagine? Haven’t slept in that bed since I was a young girl.”

A bit bemused by her maid, Harriet accepted the offered dressing gown. Nellie had been working for the family since before she was born. She knew Nellie had come over from England with her mother, but honestly she had never given it much thought. Everything in London was new to Harriet, but to Nellie it was coming home.

“I suppose we should make our way to the docks and book passage home,” said Harriet without much enthusiasm. She was accustomed to sailing short trips with her father, but the passage across the Atlantic was not something she relished repeating. And yet, there was only one way home.

Nellie scrunched up her nose. “His lordship will send a man down to do that for you. If you don’t mind me saying, things are different here in London. Ladies do not visit the docks. Ever.” Nellie was firm on this.

“I suppose that would be best,” conceded Harriet. “It would allow me time to visit some of the museums I have only read about. Can you imagine? Right now, I am within a short walk of the National Gallery and the British Museum!”

Once again Nellie shook her head. “Ladies do not scamper about London on foot. Ever.”

“Perhaps I could borrow one of his lordship’s horses?”

“Gads, child, no! If you must visit a place, you will ride in a carriage. And you really ought to have a man escort you. I can go with you if there is none other. Or perhaps me and one of the footmen.” Nellie looked up at the ceiling, thinking aloud.

“Do you think one of the footmen would be interested in visiting the museum?”

“Interested? No, of course not. But propriety must be observed. You are the granddaughter of an earl and you are in London.”

Harriet sighed. She hardly knew herself anymore. “Fine, whatever you think is best.” It wasn’t that she objected to propriety; she simply couldn’t spare a moment to think about it. As long as she got to visit the British Museum, the entire staff could tag along for all she cared. Might even be educational for them.

“Good!” Nellie smiled at her like she was an obedient child. “Now I’ve been through your gowns, and I think the white with the blue sash would be perfect, though now that you are in London, you should consider visiting a modiste to get some frocks in the latest fashion. And your bonnets have been ripped to shreds from all that wind.”

“Whatever for?” asked Harriet. “I reserved some frocks and bonnets from the rigors of the wind on decks. They should do. Besides, we will not be here more than a few weeks before we can find passage on a ship back to America.”

Nellie’s face fell and she busied herself with Harriet’s wardrobe. “I have been thinking. As far as I know, my parents are still alive. And I haven’t seen my brothers and sisters in over thirty years.”

“Oh.” Harriet suddenly saw her maid in a new light. Nellie had always been there and Harriet had simply accepted her presence in their lives as if she belonged to their family. But she didn’t. She belonged to another family, one she had left so many years ago.

“Come here, poppet,” said Nellie and sat on the foot of the bed. Harriet joined her like they used to when she was young and Nellie was bandaging a scraped knee or a cut finger. With four elder brothers, Harriet had always been an active child.

“I have not set foot in this house since the night we ran away,” began Nellie. “Being here brings it all back. Your mother was seventeen and I was nineteen. It seems so young now, but we thought ourselves very mature. Lord Langley was pressing Beatrice to marry a Lord Ashcroft—very old and very rich. Beatrice refused and they had a terrible row, which ended with him saying he would lock her away for madness and her saying she wished he was dead. Oh yes, the servants heard it all!”

“Sounds very dramatic.” Harriet had difficulty seeing her calm, poised mother in this explosive light.

“It was! I caught her sneaking out of the house and she declared she was running away with an American sea captain. Well, I thought she might really be mad! Oh, I tried to talk her out of it, I don’t mind saying. I didn’t know your father as I do now or I wouldn’t have wasted my breath. But in the end, she was resolute and I had a choice to make. I could alert her father, I could go back to bed and pretend I saw nothing, or I could go with her and make sure she was looked after.”

“You chose to take care of my mum.”

“Yes. Though I had no idea I would stay away so long.”

Harriet had a pang of guilt for never once considering what a sacrifice Nellie had made to stay true to her mother. “Of course you would like to visit your family,” said Harriet. “How silly of me not to think of it. I think of you as so much a part of my family that I forgot you had one of your own.”

“Truth is…” Nellie shifted a bit and took a deep breath. “Truth is, I was happy in America and had not thought to leave it, but now that I’m here, I would like to go home.”

“Oh. I see.” All the air in Harriet’s lungs suddenly deflated. “You want to stay here.”

“Yes, dear, I do.” Nellie patted her hand in an apologetic manner. “But of course I will stay with you until you are ready to sail and we shall find you a nice lady’s maid to travel with you. I’m sure your grandfather will likely send an escort with you too.”

“Yes, yes, that would be fine.” Harriet’s mind whirled. In all her visions of the future, Nellie had always been by her side, the way she always was. And now she would be alone. It was not fine. Not at all. And yet…

“You should go visit your family now,” blurted Harriet before she lost her courage. “You must wish to see them.”

“I confess I do, but I would not leave you unprotected.”

“I have my grandfather now, such as he is, and I believe you have done enough to protect the ladies of this family. It is high time you take care of yourself.” Harriet felt a rush of pride for having voiced what she knew to be right, followed by despair when Nellie happily accepted her offer and began to pack her bag.

Harriet plastered a smile on her face as she hugged her maid, her friend and surrogate mother, good-bye. She snuck one of her leather pouches of gold into the maid’s bag when Nellie was not attending and packed her off in a hack for the ride across town to where Nellie’s relatives lived.

Harriet waved and smiled and was immensely pleased that the tears did not begin to fall until the carriage was well out of sight. She turned to go back in the house. Now that there was no one to witness her tears, she decided it was time for a good cry.

She had not gone more than a few steps before she was thwarted in her plan, met in the entryway by her grandfather, dressed in his hat and coat.

“Good, you are dressed.” Langley gave her a curt nod of approval. “They are bringing around the carriage. I have asked the maids to pack your trunks. Do you need to take all of them?”

“Whatever do you mean? Where are you going?” Once again Harriet’s world was shifting sidewise.

“The house party. Lord Thornton has invited us to attend.” The earl smiled hopefully.

“I am sorry, I fear you have misunderstood.” Harriet smiled, though she would have rather pushed past him to have a moment of privacy. “I am not here for a house party. I only wished to meet you and have a roof over my head until we, or rather
I
, could book safe passage back to America.”

“Yes, well, I sent a man ’round to procure you tickets, and the first ship available leaves in one month.” He pursed his lips together as if soured by the enormity of the lie he just told.

“I cannot believe that one month is the soonest option.”

Langley’s eyes grew soft and pleading. “Harriet, I know I have no right to ask, since I have not been able to be present in your life—”

“Chosen not to be present in my life,” interrupted Harriet.

“Yes. Quite. But the thing is, I would like to make up for lost time. A visit to the Scottish Highlands would be rather nice and we could get to know each other better.”

“Scottish Highlands?” Harriet did not wish to admit it, but her interest was piqued. She had always wanted to see that part of the world, almost as much as she wished to see the British Museum.

“Yes, so beautiful this time of year.”

“Lord Thornton invited us?”

“Yes, he was quite insistent we attend.” Her grandfather’s eyes gleamed, though whether with familial happiness or malicious scheming, she did not know him well enough to tell.

“He wished us to attend?” she asked. Did Thornton want them to come to Scotland? Later she would conclude her decision was the result of a lack of sleep and overwrought nerves, but at the moment an image of a tall, brooding Thornton beckoning her to the Highlands became a powerful incentive. Besides, she should at least spend a little time with her grandfather.

“Very well then, I accept. But I must insist we visit the British Museum before we leave town.”

“But we haven’t the time—”

“Or I will not go.”

Lord Langley gave her a tight smile. “I’ll take you there now, on our way out of town!”