Her Grace in Disgrace (The Widows of Woburn Place) (35 page)

The
ceremony, presided over by Saybrooke’s mentor, Charles Simeon, seemed a dream to
Isobel.  However, she pledged her troth willingly, eagerly to Andrew Stafford,
Lord Saybrooke. And he pledged his to her. The words were said, the prayers
offered and the couple kissed after being pronounced man and wife. Before God
and these witnesses, they were now Lord and Lady Saybrooke.

Adriana
had arranged a sumptuous wedding breakfast for the smallish group in the
Persian Room. Lady Whitcomb enjoyed the delectable spread immensely, almost as
much as she enjoyed flirting with the confirmed bachelor, Charles Simeon.
Simeon, his health of late limiting his social interactions, enjoyed the lively
debate about the rights of women with the garishly dressed and singular Lady
Whitcomb.

Anyone
observing the rosy glow in Serena Endicott’s cheeks might have attributed the
lady’s flushed complexion to the champagne she had consumed or to the shyly
welcomed attentions of Jasper Finch. Most likely, both were to blame. While she
blushed and inexpertly flirted with Jasper Finch, Serena’s daughter Charis, and
Reggie, the young Duke of Warwick dashed here and there in between the milling
group, faithfully followed by the canine Duke. Their antics upset more than a
few glasses of champagne and plates of pate.

“Saybrooke
tells me that you are to spend a number of weeks with the newlyweds at
Bentwood,” said Finch conversationally.

“Indeed,
we are. After they have a proper honeymoon, of course. All of us from Woburn
Place, including the servants, are to spend six weeks there in July and August.
We are all so looking forward to it. Charis would, too, if she understood, but
London is all she knows.” Serena hesitated, surprised by her own lengthy
speech. Until that moment she had barely returned two or three word replies to
Mr. Finch.

“I
am very glad to hear it, for I, too am promised to Bentwood for the month of
August,” he replied, bestowing on the shy young lady his most charming smile.

Serena’s
face flushed with pleasure and embarrassment. Before she could think of a
reply, Charis rushed by her, shrieking in delight.

“Charis!”
said the fond mother sternly. “Excuse me, Mr. Finch I must see to my daughter.”

“Nonsense,
Serena, you keep talking with Mr. Finch. I shall set that little imp straight,”
Lady Whitcomb said sternly and went in search of the little girl.

Mr.
Finch watched her go with concern. “She’s a bit of a tartar, is Lady Whitcomb. Are
you sure your Charis will be alright.”

“Of
course, Mr. Finch. Do not let Lady Whitcomb fool you. Charis has her wrapped
around her little finger. She is only in danger of being spoiled to death.”

Charis,
chased by Reggie, raced past Lady Saybrooke, who was seated beside Lady
Doncaster. The squealing scamps bumped Lady Saybrooke’s chair, nearly spilling
her wine. She rolled her eyes and knowingly bemoaned the low company at the
festivities, carefully excepting Lady Doncaster and her daughter. She added
with obvious distaste, “I never thought I would see the day my son would marry
such a one as Isobel Kennilworth.”

Lady
Doncaster turned to Lady Saybrooke, her smile a trifle forced. “He is indeed
fortunate to have snagged such a lovely young woman as Miss Kennilworth. My
daughter and I hold her much in esteem, as I am sure you do.” Seeing Lady
Saybrooke’s flustered expression, Lady Doncaster’s smile brightened and she
continued. “I never took you for such a jokester, Lady Saybrooke, calling the Dowager
Duchess of Warwick and her son, the Duke, low company.” Lady Doncaster chuckled
and playfully tapped Lady Saybrooke’s arm with her black lacquer fan. Lady Saybrooke
sputtered for a moment in protest and finally, smiling weakly, offered a feeble
comment that the Duchess of Warwick did lay a very fine table.

The
aforementioned lady, in between admonishing her young son and his dog to stop
running about, enjoyed a nice coze with Laura, Lady Tyndale. They spoke of
Warwick’s Home for Widows and the dreams and plans they each had for the
venture. Laura and Adriana happily found themselves to be quite compatible and
their conversation was sprinkled with laughter.

Lady
Joanna did not seem to be quite so cheerful. She and Lord Charles were involved
in a heated discussion about his rapidly approaching removal to his estate in
Derbyshire.

“Charles,
I do not see why my mother and I cannot come to visit! It would be perfectly
respectable.” cried Lady Joanna.

“Joanna,
our engagement is meant to be a secret. If you were to come and visit me it
would raise questions. You must be patient, sweeting,” Lord Charles spoke in
his most placating tone.

“But
I will miss out, while you have all the fun!” Lady Joanna’s outburst brought a
few glances their way and Lord Charles took her elbow and guided her away from
the small crowd.

“I
will be spending my time with acrid smelling cows, milking them and cleaning up
after them; I hardly think that fun is an accurate description.”

“It
would be fun for me,” pouted Lady Joanna.

Lord
Charles conceded. “Alright, I think it will be fun, too, but Joanna, you must
see that you cannot come.”

“Why
must I see that? Charles, you need me there!”

“Oh,
so that is the problem,” Charles said, his volume increasing as his anger
flared. “You do not trust me to do this on my own! You believe me to be
helpless without you there to guide me.”

“Charles,
you are a London buck. I know how a farm works.” Now, Lady Joanna’s voice took
on a placating quality.

“Joanna,
I grew up at Warwick Park…” Lord Charles began.

“And
your father taught Reginald how to run the estate, while you played with the
stable boys.”

Charles
knew she was right, but it rankled. He eyed her coldly and then spoke. “If you
see me as so useless, it is a wonder that you wish to marry me.”

“I
did not say that you are useless, Charles! Merely inexperienced. And I am
marrying you because I love you, despite your stubbornness.”

“Me?
Stubborn? Well, if that isn’t the pot calling the kettle black!”

Lady
Joanna bristled, but struggled to keep her tone light. “I am a bit determined,
I admit it.”

“You
are downright obstinate!” They both glared at each other for a few moments.
Charles broke the standoff with a parting speech. “I will leave for Hidenwood
tomorrow at first light. My steward and I will work hard and successfully
convert the estate to a dairy farm. If you cannot trust me to do this, you
cannot trust me as a husband. Now, I will take my leave of you and then wish
Isobel and Saybrooke happy before I leave to pack.” A look fraught with emotion
passed between the affianced couple. Tears appeared in Lady Joanna’s green eyes
and trickled down her elfin face.

“Charles…”
Lady Joanna could say no more as tears rushed down her cheeks.

Lord
Charles took his beloved’s hand and kissed it, holding it for quite some time.
“I look forward to your letters, Joanna. I will need them to cheer me.”

“I
will miss you dreadfully.” Lady Joanna managed.

“And
I, you,” said her fiancé with feeling. At last, he let go of her hand and with
one last longing look, turned to leave.

“Charles!”
said Lady Joanna with urgency. Lord Charles turned back to face her. “I do
trust you.” Lord Charles smiled lovingly at his future bride, unable to speak.
He quickly turned away in search of Isobel and her new husband. After saying
goodbye to Isobel, Saybrooke, Lady Doncaster and Adriana, he left Wren House
and his beloved Joanna behind.

Below
stairs, Mrs. Kitchen was in heaven devouring food that she did not prepare, happily
pointing out its inferiority to her own cuisine. “This roll is as dense as
Renfrew’s head,” she chirped as she slathered her third bun with butter and ate
it with delight. Renfrew, misinterpreting this as a compliment, beamed at the
cook and greedily consumed his fourth lobster patty. Jem, too, enjoyed a large
portion of food for such a small boy. He was in a happy frame of mind once
again, his hated new coat and waistcoat hanging on a peg near the servants
entrance, his tie jammed into one of his coat pockets.

After
hours of good food and gaiety, it was time for Isobel and Saybrooke to depart
for Kent and Saybrooke’s country estate, Bentwood, where they planned to spend
a month alone. With a score of servants, of course. Goodbyes were said, tears
flowed, embraces abounded and the couple was off to begin their life together.

Finally,
after the numerous goodbyes, Saybrooke and Isobel were alone in their
well-appointed carriage, exhausted and happy, soaking up their shared
affection.

“I
cannot remember a time when I did not love you, Izzy.” Saybrooke’s voice was
tender.

Isobel
laughed. “What? Can you not remember when we first met as children and you
pushed me into the brook in March!”

He
returned the laugh and was quiet for a moment. “I think I loved you even then.
I thought you were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and I badly wanted
your attention. I got it, did I not?”

“You
certainly did.” Isobel shuddered remembering how cold and angry she had been
that day. “And you have it now, My Lord,” she said, lifting her face to be
kissed.

Saybrooke
lowered his mouth to hers and devoured her with a kiss.  For some time, as the
coach rolled along the well-travelled road to Kent, they explored this love
that they had shared for so long, but yet was somehow new. After a long while,
the couple pulled out of the kiss. Moments later, Isobel spoke into the
gathering darkness.

“I
think I have always loved you, too, Drew,” Isobel said thoughtfully.

“Even
when you sailed a teacup over my head?” asked Saybrooke with a laugh.

“Oh,
make no mistake, I meant to hit you with it, but yes, even then.” Isobel
laughed and pulled him closer.

“You
are a disgraceful little hoyden, you know.” Saybrooke chuckled, kissing the top
of her head.

“A
hoyden, perhaps, but thank God and thanks to you, no longer a disgrace,” said
Isobel, her teasing manner gone.

They
remained silently in each other arms, swaying with the movement of the
carriage.

“Do
you suppose we will grow to be boring and stodgy now that we are an old married
couple?” Isobel asked, her face cradled against Saybrooke’s chest.

Saybrooke
had nearly been asleep when Isobel spoke, but he roused himself to answer,
though his words were a bit slurred. “I cannot imagine that you will ever be
boring, Izzy. I could very well end up a stodgy old recluse, however.”

“I
will not allow it, my dear. We have too many schemes to plan and execute and I
will need your help.” Isobel was obviously wide awake and hatching new plots.

“What
are you plotting, now, Izzy?” Saybrooke was wide awake now.

“Well,
my dear, we have a house full of widows that need husbands.”

“And
you plan to find them all husbands?”

“Of
course. For anyone who would like a husband, that is. And only good, kind men
will do for my widows.”

“Your
widows?” Saybrooke inquired.

Isobel
ignored the question. “I noticed Jasper Finch paying Serena a good bit of
attention.”

Saybrooke
only groaned and shook his head, but he had a smile on his face, though Isobel
could not see it in the darkness.

“What
an adventure we shall have, Drew! Tell me, what is Mr. Finch’s situation in
life?”

“Can
we not postpone the matchmaking, just a bit?” asked Saybrooke with feeling.

“Why,
have you something else in mind to pass the time?” Isobel queried coyly.

“Indeed,
I do,” he pronounced and demonstrated his idea. Isobel was all in agreement and
the carriage was quiet for quite some time, all thoughts of the widows
forgotten for the present.

I
have had a love of "story" for as long as I can remember. Reading has
always been a passion for me. Writing began a bit later in life. I have written
and performed in numerous plays that have been produced by amateur drama groups
in Rochester, NY and Yorktown, VA. I have been happily married to John since
1981 and together we have two daughters. I am also the proud grandmother of
three amazing boys! My faith, family and love of spinning stories are the heart
of who I am.
Her Grace in Disgrace
is my first novel and the first of a
planned series:
The Widows of Woburn Place
.

Since
I am a new author, I would greatly appreciate you taking the time to write a
review of this book. Also, feel free to email me with any questions or comments
that you have by going to my website:
www.claudiaharbaugh.com
.

Thanks
for reading!

Claudia