Charlotte Louise Dolan (25 page)

Not a day had gone by since his arrival that Lady Algernon had not found a reason to come to the main house and seek out his company. Her excuses had been varied, but none of them had served to disguise her true purpose, which was to flirt with him quite openly. He had been driven several times to downright rudeness, but nothing seemed to daunt her.

Today it was crucial that she not burst in upon him unannounced, because today a messenger had delivered a long letter from Lady Letitia, which Darius was reading with great satisfaction.

You will also need to invite some other people, to disguise your true purpose. I am sure you are familiar with such stratagems from Portugal and Spain. I am therefore enclosing not only a list of eligible bachelors, but also a list of young ladies with their mamas. Have no fear that any of them will find it strange to be invited to a house party where they scarcely have a nodding acquaintance with either the host or the hostess. It has been my experience that such is the conceit of most people that the most casual ‘good morning,’ said only in passing, is transformed in their own minds into a long and intimate conversation.

The letter continued in much the same vein, and Darius read Lady Letitia’s detailed instructions with a smile. The only part which did not please him was her command not to let any of the guests know that she was involved in any way with the house party. In fact, she forbade him even to mention her name under any circumstances.

The bachelors have been growing increasingly wary in late years and are inclined to shy off at the mere suggestion that I have noticed them.

It was most unfortunate that Lady Letitia, with her sharp wit and intelligent conversation, could not join the party, because the list of eligible bachelors she enclosed did not include even a single person who had two thoughts in his head to rub together.

It was going to be the most tedious and boring house party ever held at Colthurst Hall, but if it achieved its purpose, it would be worth it.

Brushing the dust off his clothing, Darius abandoned his hiding place and went to inform his wife of the impending house party and to give her the lists of intended guests.

The letter from Lady Letitia, however, the duke tucked into his pocket. No one was going to be privy to its contents except him.

* * * *

Elizabeth scanned the list of guests for the house party her husband was proposing, then looked up at Darius but could not think of anything to say. This was the strangest assortment of guests she had ever seen, and she had no idea what to make of it. “Is there some problem?” he asked after the silence had stretched out for several minutes.

“Why on earth did Lady Letitia send us a list of guests?”

“Lady Letitia? What makes you think she is involved?”

Elizabeth laughed. “Well, this is her handwriting, so what else am I to think? That you send her your guest lists for her to copy out? I am sorry, but I cannot picture her as your amanuensis.” She was quite pleased that he seemed to be relaxing slightly, although some days she felt as if they would never recapture the ease between them which they had enjoyed at Christmastime.

“You are remarkably erudite today.”

“And you are remarkably evasive, my dear.”

He seemed about to smile, but then he removed a crumpled letter from his pocket and held it out to her. Wordlessly he strolled over to the tall windows and stood with his back to her while she read the message from Lady Letitia.

“You are trying to find a husband for Amelia?”

“Yes,” he replied curtly without turning to face her, and the amount of contempt he put into that one word was truly amazing.

Elizabeth said a brief prayer that she would never do anything to cause him to feel such disgust for her. “What date do you prefer for this house party?”

“As soon as possible,” he growled. “And don’t bother me with questions about petty details. Kelso can handle the whole thing, in fact. Just give him the list of guests and tell him I wish to get this project started as soon as everything can be organized.”

Without waiting for her response or even glancing at her, he stalked out of the room.

At least her mind was relieved of one worry. As implausible as it might seem, she had not been able to control the spark of jealousy that flared up every time she saw Amelia cooing and batting her eyelashes at Darius.

Jealousy ... and fear that her husband would someday find a woman he could give his heart to. At least he did not appear to be susceptible to the charms of the former Duchess of Colthurst.

Unfortunately, he also did not appear to be susceptible to the charms of the present duchess either.

At Mrs. Kelso’s invitation, Elizabeth entered the housekeeper’s sitting room and seated herself in one of the comfortable chairs there.

“Would you care for a cup of tea, your Grace?”

Elizabeth smiled and nodded. “Please, if it is not too much trouble.”

The housekeeper poured a cup of tea for Elizabeth and then one for herself.

“In general,” Elizabeth began, “I am quite pleased with the way you are running Colthurst Hall. I have, in fact, only one change I would like to make if it meets with your approval.”

“It is not for me to approve or disapprove, your Grace.”

“In this case, Mrs. Kelso, I am afraid nothing can be done without your cooperation. What I would like to do ...” She hesitated, unsure how to explain. “It is actually something my mother started at our home in Somerset, and I am not even sure there is a need here. Perhaps you can tell me. Are there many girls on the estate and in the village who would like to go into service?”

“Oh, to be sure, your Grace. Far more than we can employ, in fact.”

“Then perhaps there is a need here, too. My mother felt that it was not a good idea—dangerous, in fact—to allow girls simply to be cast out into the world, where they might or might not find work with honest employers. There were, in fact, two instances where girls from our village went off to what they thought were legitimate situations in service, only to discover such was not the case.”

“I have heard of such things happening, but there is little that can be done. The girls need the work, and their families need the money they can bring in.”

“Yes, that is what my mother found to be the case. She felt, however, that if the girls could start their first job already having had some training and with references, then their chances of obtaining really good situations would be vastly improved. With the agreement of our housekeeper, therefore, our maids only work for us for a year or two, then leave for other employment. It has worked very well for us, although it has only been on a very small scale. The girls have been able to obtain good positions, and we have now reached the point that we have a small waiting list of people desiring to hire the maids we have trained.”

The housekeeper was silent.

“But you do see,” Elizabeth continued, “I could not really attempt to put such a training program into effect here without your wholehearted cooperation, since it will require additional work on your part.”

Mrs. Kelso sighed. “And I don’t know where I could squeeze out another minute, and that’s a fact.”

Setting her teacup on the table beside her, Elizabeth tried to keep the disappointment off her face.

“But the idea is a very good one. Perhaps you might consider ... There is a widow in the village, a Mrs. Thompson, who used to be housekeeper to Lord Langford. She has spent the last several years taking care of her aged mother, who died last summer. She might be willing to come here and supervise the project, although it would mean paying out more in wages.”

“The money is not important,” Elizabeth replied. “I intend to pay for any additional costs out of my own funds, and this woman sounds as if she might be just what is needed. Do you think she might actually consider taking such a position?”

Before the housekeeper could answer, the door burst open and Dorothy Hepden entered, cradling her left arm close to her body. “Oh, Mrs. Kelso,” she wailed, bursting into tears.

The housekeeper immediately tried to shush her and to indicate with hand signals that Elizabeth was there, but the dresser was too overwrought to notice.

“I think she broke my arm this time,” Miss Hepden managed to say between sobs. “She threw that heavy green vase right at me. I tried to dodge, but it struck me such a blow ... She laughed when I cried out.”

“Who did such a thing?” Elizabeth asked in a horrified voice.

Startled, Miss Hepden shrieked and whirled around, and there was utter confusion for a few minutes. Finally Mrs. Kelso had Dorothy somewhat calmed down and seated in a comfortable chair with a soothing cup of tea.

“I am never going back there.” There was a quaver in her voice as if at any minute she might burst into tears again. “Never!”

As if trying to guarantee that Elizabeth would not attempt to persuade Miss Hepden to do just that, the housekeeper explained in full detail the previous episodes when the dowager duchess had resorted to physical violence.

“No, of course you must not go back there,” Elizabeth said calmly when she had heard the full account.

“Oh, my career is over. My life is ruined.” Miss Hepden began to wail again, but this time the housekeeper managed to soothe her more quickly.

“The problem, your Grace,” Mrs. Kelso explained, “is references. There is no expecting the dowager duchess to give Miss Hepden a reference, and without a good one, there is no way she can get a job as a lady’s maid, much less as a dresser.”

“I would be happy to give her a reference.”

“But since she hasn’t actually worked for you, people would be suspicious, if you see what I mean,” the housekeeper explained.

“I’m not going back there. I’d rather work as a scullery maid.”

Elizabeth was relieved to see that Miss Hepden had reached the point she could speak without bursting into tears. “Then it is really quite simple. You must work for me for several months, at the end of which time I shall give you a glowing letter of recommendation.”

“But you have a maid already,” Miss Hepden said in a tiny voice, as if trying to be fair, but not really wanting to object to Elizabeth’s suggestion.

“She can work for the dowager duchess.”

The other two women looked at Elizabeth in shock.

“It is perfectly all right. Maggie is capable of looking after herself. You may ask her if you don’t believe me.”

Maggie was sent for, and the entire situation was related to her in great detail.

“Then you do not object to trading places? Suppose she strikes you also?” Miss Hepden asked timidly.

Holding out one hand and slowly closing her fingers into a tight ball, Maggie said bluntly, “I hit back. And so I shall make very clear to Lady Algernon.”

Miss Hepden’s eyes were riveted on the fist held in front of her face. “Oh, I wish ...” she murmured, but did not finish her remark.

* * * *

Within the hour Maggie was back and sought Elizabeth out in the study, where she was relaxing with a book.

“You’d best come over to the dower house,” Maggie said, making no effort to hide the outrage in her voice. “The situation there is worse than you could possibly imagine.”

“She is upset about the switch. I was afraid of that.”

“She’s not even there. She has run off to Bath on another of her shopping expeditions, Cousin Edith is locked in her room with her usual headache, the cook has just quit without giving notice, I finally found the nursery maid smooching in the back parlour with a footman, and the wet nurse is stinking drunk.”

“Drunk! But the baby—”

“You’d best come and see for yourself.”

* * * *

“I’m not sure you should be doing this.”

Her arms cradling the baby, who was now dry and wrapped in a clean blanket, but who was still whimpering with hunger, Elizabeth marched with determination from the dower house to Colthurst Hall. Tears were streaming down her face, but she had no hand free to wipe them away. “I will never allow a child to be so neglected, Maggie.”

“I am not saying you should not step in and do something, but to actually take away another woman’s baby—”

“She does not deserve to have a child. And I shall fight her myself if it is necessary.”

“Your husband may insist—”

“Then I shall fight my husband also.”

“And how do you plan to feed the child, now that you have fired the wet nurse?”

“There are bound to be other wet nurses, and I am sure I can find one who is not a drunkard, even if I have to send to London for one.”

* * * *

The parlour maid was just beginning to clear away the tea things when Amelia burst into the room in an absolute rage. At the sight of her face, Elizabeth had a momentary regret— not for taking the baby, she could never be sorry about that, but for not explaining everything to her husband and enlisting his support before the actual confrontation.

“How dare you! I want her back, do you hear? Just who do you think you are?”

There was no way Elizabeth could stem the flow of vituperation that followed, nor did she even try.

With no warning, Amelia’s tirade was abruptly cut off, and she had her handkerchief out and was daintily dabbing at her eyes, where large tears were forming. Instead of shrieking like a fishwife, she was now murmuring pathetically. “Oh, you are so cruel to me. I shall tell your husband ...”

Elizabeth could not understand the sudden switch until a voice spoke behind her, then everything became quite clear.

“What do you wish to tell me?”

Before Elizabeth could explain her side of the story, Amelia burst into tears and cast herself against the duke’s chest.

“She has stolen my dresser, that’s what she has done, and she thinks to foist her own maid off on me. Well, I cannot have such a crude person about me. My nerves are already totally overset.”

Elizabeth was speechless. Over Amelia’s head her husband caught her eye and silently raised one eyebrow in question, but she was unable to reply. If she even opened her mouth, she would probably disgrace herself totally by laughing out loud. The whole situation was more absurd than a comic opera.