Fenella J Miller (10 page)

“Oh, my lady, his lordship’s sent for the trunks and everything has been taken away; even the items we’ve altered, and the ones we were about to change. They’re to be burnt.”

“It’s not your fault, Sally. I should have known better. Quickly, help me remove this, and then send it down to join the rest. I shall wear what I have; that way I will not cause offence to anyone.”

She ignored the supper tray brought up later. She had been upstairs to read the children their story and left them happily snuggled down in bed. They were unaware anything untoward had happened. She had become an expert at dissembling to children over the past few years.

The letter for her niece and nephews was ready to send. She had addressed it to Prudence Smith, the vicar’s daughter. This way her brother could not confiscate it before it reached the children. She would ask Lord Bentley if he would frank it when he was speaking to her again.

As she was replacing a stopper in the ink bottle there was a soft knock on the door. “Come in,” she called. Putting down her pen, she turned to face her unexpected visitor. It would be Foster; no one else would venture up here so late in the day.

Her stomach lurched. Her husband stood there, immaculately dressed, his cravat a snowy waterfall at his neck. He was a different man from the one who had spoken to her so harshly an hour or so ago. She scrambled to her feet and curtsied.

“My dear, you do not need to curtsy to me. I have come to most humbly beg your pardon for my appalling rudeness. There are things we need to talk about, things I should have told you that would have avoided heartache for both of us.”

“You have had nothing to apologize for, my lord. It was my stupidity. I should never have—”

He was still standing framed in the doorway. “May I come in, my dear? I’ve no wish to intrude, I shall fully understand if you don’t wish to speak to me.”

Flushing painfully at her unintentional incivility, she gestured for him to enter. “I’m pleased to see you up and about. Now that the stitches are removed and the bruising beginning to fade, you are almost restored.”

He took the seat she’d pointed to, flicking aside his coat tails. “Now, the first thing I must say is that this contretemps is
not
your fault. You could have had no idea seeing you in my wife’s clothes would upset me. I had thought myself recovered from the grief of her death, but I find it still as raw today as four years ago. That is not your fault either, but mine. From now on I shall try and put it behind me, for your sake and for my children.”

“Please say no more on this subject, sir. I was thoughtless. I shall instruct the seamstress to make me new garments when she has finished replenishing the children’s wardrobe.”

“There’s no need to do that, my dear. I have sent a note to London; a friend of mine understands these things. A suitable woman and her assistants will come here post-haste. I shall not have you dressed by any village woman.”

“Thank you, my lord. There are several things I wish to discuss with you. The first is that I’ve dismissed Nanny Brooks and the housekeeper, Jones, decided to leave with her.”

“Foster told me. I should have done so myself long ago. I have been a delinquent parent. I can already see the difference in the house and the children since your arrival. Blakely is your domain; you shall do as you please here. You have my permission to redecorate and refurbish. I don’t intend to spend…” He stopped as if embarrassed.

“I understand, my lord. If the children can see you periodically, they will be content. Perhaps you could ensure you are here on their name days, and for the festive season?”

He cleared his throat and ran his finger round his neck cloth as if it had become uncomfortably tight. “Exactly. To tell you the truth, I’ve no idea when they celebrate their birthdays. Once supplied with that information I shall make it my business to be here with them. There’s something that you need to know, my dear. I have no recollection of what happened last week, when I behaved so appallingly to you. I can’t imagine what possessed me, I’m not usually a man of such low morals.”

She stared at him, not sure what he was talking about. “Low morals?”

“I tried to force myself upon you, Foster told me what happened. My bad behaviour was the reason I offered for you. This was the least I could do.”

The blood drained from her face.

Good God!
He thought he had molested her. That explained why Jane and Lady Haverstock had treated her with such gentleness. He had no idea she had only knocked him to the ground because he was shaking Ned.
He
had married her because he thought he had ruined her reputation. Whilst
she
thought he married her in order to save her from retribution.

“My dear, you’re unwell. I’m a brute to remind you. My behaviour must have been reprehensible indeed if the very thought of it so upsets you.”

He was so close she could smell the lemon soap he used to shave. Her voice failed her. There was nothing she could say. She could never tell him he had married her unnecessarily. If he knew her secret, he would repudiate her and send her back to her brother. When he recovered his memory, she would most certainly get her comeuppance.

She must enjoy every moment of what little time remained of her stay at Blakely Hall.

The next day Eleanor decided to visit the nursery before breakfast. By remaining with the children, she would not be obliged to talk to her husband. How could she have got herself in such a situation? If she had realized he was labouring under a misapprehension, however desperate her circumstances, she would never have agreed to marry him.

As it was to be a union in name only, should she confess the whole and let him arrange to have the marriage dissolved?

The children as always, were overjoyed to see her. They already considered her their mama. This made things even more difficult. If she revealed her secret she would deprive the children of her presence. Already she loved them—would it not be better to put
their
wishes first?

“Come along, everyone. I thought we could take a picnic down to the lake and spend the day there together having fun. That’s why you’re wearing your oldest clothes.” Lucy’s eyes widened and she clutched Eleanor’s hand. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“Good morning, my dear, good morning, children. Did I just hear the mention of a picnic?”

“Papa, can you come? Please come with us.” Alexander rushed across and flung himself into his father’s arms.

The girls seemed less sure; this would not do. Whilst she
was
still here one thing she
could
do was re-establish the connection between Bentley and his children. Gently she pushed the two girls forward and he held out his other arm. For a moment they hesitated and then threw themselves at him with as much enthusiasm as their brother. All three clamoured to be heard.

“Children, do be careful! Your papa has been very poorly. It would not do to—”

He smiled. “I’m perfectly well, thank you, my dear. As you can see the stitches are gone.”

The mention of stitches distracted the children from their demands that he accompany them on their picnic. He sat down in the window seat with Alexander on his lap and his daughters on either side of him. He flicked back his hair to show them the pink scar.

She studied him closely. How was it possible a man as sick as he was two days ago, could now be up and about looking so robust? Apart from being a little paler and thinner about the face, he looked much as he did when she’d first met him. Good grief! Can that have only been ten days ago? It felt like a lifetime. So much had changed.

He glanced up, caught her eye and grinned. Something strange happened to her insides. She must not allow herself to become emotionally entangled with this charming, charismatic man. “Well, my lord, are you to accompany us or not?”

“Definitely. I well remember the last time we were with children by the lake. I sincerely hope I do not have to do take a swim fully dressed today.”

“Tell us, Mama, why did Papa go in the water in his clothes?”

Laughing, she told the story and Lucy stared pleadingly up at him. “Papa, can
we
play cricket with you like we played with Mama the other day?”

“Of course you can, sweetheart. Why don’t you go and fetch what we need whilst I speak to your mama?”

This was the last thing she wanted. “If you are to accompany us, my lord, I must speak to Cook about increasing the size of the picnic.”

Somehow he was between her and the exit. “I wish you to call me by my given name, no more formality. You are my wife and I wish us to be friends.”

She swallowed nervously. “If you insist, sir…Alex, but that will be difficult for me. Even my sister-in-law does not call my brother by his name.”

“Eleanor is a lovely name and suits you, my dear.” The children rushed back, waving the cricket equipment triumphantly. “Ah! Well done, you three. Let’s set out on our expedition.”

Alexander tugged at his coat-tails. “Papa, you shall get your smart clothes ruined sitting on the grass.”

He ruffled the little boy’s hair. “Quite correct, young man, I shall go at once and put on something my valet will not mind me spoiling.” He winked at her and vanished.

Her pulse gradually returned to normal. “I have asked for the picnic to be brought out to us, along with something to sit on. Your papa will be changed in trice. Shall we set off? His legs are so much longer than ours, he will soon catch us up.”

Alex wanted to turn somersaults but refrained. How could he have remained aloof from his delightful children for so many years? He was a selfish father. Anna would have been ashamed of him. Wallowing in self-pity and refusing to engage with his offspring was something he would regret for the rest of his life.

He bounded up the stairs to his apartment. From now on things would be different. He’d been given a second chance and he wasn’t going to throw it away.

“Foster, where the devil are you? Have I any old clothes suitable for boating and picnicking by the lake?”

His manservant appeared instantly. “I can find something, my lord. Are you sure you are up to it?”

“Damn it, man, I’ll not be mollycoddled. I wish to spend time with my wife and children and what better way than larking about by the water?”

Ten minutes later he was striding after his family. His spirits soared as he watched the children gambolling around Eleanor’s skirts. For the first time in many years he felt optimistic; if he could not have love in his marriage, then friendship and affection would do. To see his little ones so happy in her company after so short a time was truly remarkable.

His decision to marry her had been precipitate, but he had made the right choice. She was everything a mother should be: kind, honest and loving.

Increasing his pace, he hailed the group. “Am I suitably attired? Will I pass muster and be allowed to sit on the grass?”

Eleanor glanced over her shoulder at his call. “Good heavens! Alex, you look like a gardener. Wherever did you find that rig?”

“Foster unearthed it; I feel quite liberated dressed as I am.” He scooped up his son and swung him round. “I believe, my boy, that I might even take a swim later on.”

Lucy and Elizabeth exchanged anxious glances. “I don’t think Papa should have come out without a coat or neck cloth, and to have his sleeves rolled up…Mama, what will the servants think?”

“Girls, your papa can do as he pleases; after all he is lord and master here. If he cares not for the opinion of others, then neither should you. I am wearing an ancient gown, and the brim is coming away on my bonnet.”

Lucy nodded. “But it’s different for you. You do not go about in Society like Papa.”

Smiling, Eleanor hugged the girls. “Quite right, my love. Look, our spot has already been chosen for us in the shade of the boathouse.”

The three children raced ahead, leaving her to walk with Alex. A child’s chance remark had reminded her that she was a plain moth to his bright butterfly.

“Good God! I thought we were coming on a picnic, Eleanor.”

“I asked for some rugs to sit on, that was all.” Her amusement bubbled up and she could not prevent her giggles from escaping. “I cannot imagine why they have set up a table and chairs with damask napery and cutlery. There’s no sign of a picnic basket. Do you think footmen are going to march across here carrying the food on trays?”

“I sincerely hope not. Do you think if I wave frantically someone will notice and send out to see what we want?”

“Perhaps a flag made from a napkin would be more visible.”

“Excellent, it will seem like we’re surrendering.”

She watched his antics, finding him all but irresistible when he was like this. The children joined him in his tomfoolery and they pranced about like dancers around a maypole, waving the white squares above their heads. Whoever saw them would think they had run mad.

“Alex, you may stop now. A positive cavalcade is rushing across the park.”

“In which case, my dear, I shall leave you to arrange things as you wish. We shall go and see if the punt is usable.”

By mid-afternoon they were all wet and dirty and ready to return. Alex was stretched out in the bottom of the punt. The children believed he was dozing; Eleanor was not so sanguine.

“I think it’s time we went back to the house, children. I want you to return to the house and ask Mr Foster to bring a dry shirt and jacket for your papa. It’s not good for him to be so wet. I shall remain here and tidy up.”

Lucy took the hands of her siblings. “We can do that, Mama. We’ve had such fun. I do hope you and Papa will take us on another picnic soon.”

“We shall, my dear, when we have both recovered from today. Good, I can see Daisy coming out to fetch you. Hurry up and meet her then you can give
her
the message. I shall come up after nursery tea to read you a story.”

As soon as they had gone, she hurried to the water’s edge. “Alex? Alex, you must come out of there, it’s time to return.” There was no response. Did his face look paler than before? Was he unconscious and not sleeping? If she bathed his face with water it might revive him. She viewed the boat with trepidation; she had avoided getting into it as she had no liking for the water.

She would try one last time to rouse him, if that failed she had no choice, she must intervene herself. “Alex, wake up. I cannot stand about here all day waiting for you.” Still his eyes remained closed.

Perhaps if she pulled the boat in closer to the bank she could lean in and bathe his face without the necessity of getting into the punt herself. With a napkin in one hand, she knelt and stretched out to grab the edge of the boat. The punt rocked alarmingly, she lost her balance and with a despairing cry fell headlong into the water.

The weight of her skirts was dragging her down. The water wasn’t deep. She must not panic. She straightened. Her head cracked on the bottom of the punt. the shock made her release the last of her breath and her lungs filled with water.

Alex heard the children leave. Eleanor was calling him, but he was too fatigued to answer. He should not have played that last game of cricket, but the children had been so appealing it had been impossible to refuse. He must gather his remaining strength and get himself out of this damned boat and back on dry land.

Suddenly he was tipped sideways and a deluge of cold water covered him. Coughing and spluttering, he sat up and for a moment was not sure what had happened.