Lord Clayborne's Fancy (29 page)

“My uncle has returned,” she explained, “and Lady Clayborne had written me a note suggesting that I come here if he did.”

“Of course, my child. I imagine it will be some time before Mr. Lawton learns of your whereabouts,” he said nervously.

Elvira regarded him pityingly, her face still puffed, and said, “I am sure if he comes here he shall only want to take me home.”

“True, true. And I am a man of the cloth,” he consoled himself. He drifted off into a discussion of his treatise, which could not be expected to be received enthusiastically by the girl and even seemed to bore his sister. This was interrupted by the entry of the maid announcing Lord Clayborne. “Show him in directly,” ordered the smiling cleric.

Although Clayborne expressed his pleasure at meeting the vicar and his sister, and his appreciation of their assistance, his attention was drawn toward Elvira. He took her hand gently in his and said kindly, “I have been with your uncle. I believe he will flee the country this very day, for tomorrow we shall place sufficient evidence with the magistrate to unseat him as your guardian. I hope I have done the right thing; Lady Clayborne desired it so for your sake. She thought you would not wish to see him imprisoned in spite of his treatment of you and your estate.”

“You are very kind, Lord Clayborne, and it is exactly as I could wish. My only desire is never to see Uncle Lawton again in my life,” she whispered fervently.

“Should you like me to take you to Lady Clayborne now? I am sure there is no more danger to any of you.”

“If you please,” she replied, confidently placing her hand on his arm.

Regretfully the vicar bade his aristocratic visitor farewell and watched them depart in his lordship’s curricle. With a gusty sigh he asked for another cup of tea, picking up his discourse as if there had been no interruption.

Chapter Twenty-One

“Oh, Lady Clayborne, I have never been so happy,” Elvira sobbed. “Lord Clayborne says my uncle will have to leave the country.”

Rebecca hugged the girl while her husband dug a handkerchief from his pocket. “Is that true, Jason? Whatever did you do to him?”

“Was Elvira away from the manor when he returned?” Constance wanted to know.

Gregory Mott, never having met the girl, and finding her surrounded by her two friends, chose to shake hands with Clayborne. “Good to see you again, Jason.”

“I had no idea you would be here.”

“Congratulations are in order. Constance has agreed to marry me.”

After this announcement there was only a confused babble.

“Oh, Miss Exton, that is wonderful!”

“Gregory, I don’t believe you’ve met Elvira Carstairs. This is my fiancé, Gregory Mott, Elvira.”

“How do you do, sir?”

“Constance, when did this happen? You said nothing to me yesterday.”

“Well, I knew nothing of it yesterday. It has come as the greatest, and most delightful, surprise.”

“Mr. Mott has a son, has he not? I think Lady Clayborne mentioned that one day when I was here.”

“Yes, he has a four-year-old named George, who has just gotten a pony of his own.”

In the midst of the chaos, Harpert poked her head out of the kitchen to ascertain that there were likely to be yet two more people for dinner, and disappeared with a resigned expression to see what she could manage.

When the explanations and congratulations had finally been sorted out, Clayborne managed to get Rebecca aside from the others for a few moments. With some satisfaction he delivered Lawton’s apology and assured her that Lawton had uttered every word of it. She eyed him suspiciously and asked, “And you are sure that he is in fit condition to make a journey today?”

“Hardly, but I assure you he will make it all the same,” he replied grimly. “Rebecca, I’m very happy for Constance and Gregory, but I cannot believe you will wish to stay here alone and I don’t think they wish to delay the wedding for long.”

“No, he has already approached her brother and received his blessing. I wonder where they will be married.”

“They could be married at Gray Oaks if you would come home,” he said softly.

Rebecca did not answer but sat thinking, staring at her hands. “What is to become of Elvira?” she asked at length.

“The solicitor in Broadway questioned the old estate manager about possible relatives. He believes there are some distant relations in Shropshire, but it will take some time to seek them out and ascertain if they would be proper guardians for the girl. I should not like to see another mistake made on that head.”

“Nor I. She deserves to have someone who will care for her. What will happen in the meantime?”

“I suppose the magistrate will appoint a temporary protector for her. I am afraid he would not allow you to have her on your own, Rebecca, if that is what you are thinking of. But I am sure he would entrust her to the both of us if I were to ask. I think Elvira would be happy at Gray Oaks for a few months, and we would be able to see the new situation she is getting into and satisfy ourselves as to its suitability.”

“What would I do with the cottage?” Rebecca asked numbly.

“We could have the renovations completed and sublet it for the term of your lease. I would see to that.”

Rebecca continued to contemplate her hands sadly. Of course, Constance and Gregory could be married anywhere, but wherever they were married it would leave Rebecca without the companion she needed in her isolation. Perhaps, too, Elvira could be placed with a protector in the neighborhood, but not the vicar and his sister, God forbid.

Constance would love to have

Elvira with her, too, but in marrying Gregory there was already little George to be thought of. Elvira deserved to be with someone who wanted her and had time to help her erase this last horrible year.

And the cottage. Rebecca had come to love it and consider it her refuge. If she returned to Gray Oaks she would be faced again with the daily pain of being with Clayborne and yet apart from him. And yet she really had no choice at all. She had made Elvira her responsibility, turning the lives of half a dozen people upside down to right the child’s life, and she had no intention of walking away from her now. When the girl had a kind family to go to, well perhaps then Rebecca could think about her own life again.

Without raising her eyes Rebecca said softly, “I shall come back to Gray Oaks with you, Jason. You are kind to have me back and to offer Elvira a home for a while.”

Clayborne was aware of the pressures which persuaded Rebecca to accept his offer; he had silently watched the struggle on her face before she spoke. But there was no help for it, the situation knew of no other logical solution. He ached for her sadness but he was grateful that he would have her back on any terms, if even for a while. “Thank you, my dear,” was all he said.

Dinner was announced by a slightly flustered Harpert, who was rewarded with a beaming smile from Constance and a wink of approval from Rebecca. Over the meal, which was remarkably good under the circumstances, Rebecca said quite matter-of-factly, “I plan to return to Gray Oaks, and I hope that you and Gregory will honor us by being married there.” Her eyes twinkled when she said aside to Constance, “It will make it so easy for your mama to come to the wedding!”

Delighted that Rebecca should be returning home, they agreed with hardly a murmur of protest.

“And, Elvira, if it should suit you, tomorrow Jason shall speak to the magistrate about your coming with us until a permanent guardian can be found for you. Your old estate manager remembers some distant relations in Shropshire, but that will have to be investigated. Jason feels confident that the magistrate would allow you to come with us for a while. Would that please you?”

“Of all things! I cannot thank you enough,” the girl cried.

“Well, and you need not. You will like Gray Oaks, I think, for there is a lovely house, and a stable to make your eyes open, and a topiary that is a legend in Jason’s family,” Rebecca laughed. “And I shall invite my sister Mary to stay with us if Jason agrees, for I have received another letter from her today which I have barely had time to read, but it convinces me that she is not happy at Farthington Hall just now.” She grinned impishly at Clayborne and said, “My parents have returned there.”

“I understand,” he said wryly. “Yes, I think it an excellent idea that Mary come, and Gregory shall bring George to stay with us after the wedding so that he and Constance may have a honeymoon.”

Constance blushed with pleasure and Gregory smiled his appreciation of this comprehension of the situation. Clayborne felt that the larger the party at Gray Oaks, the easier Rebecca would be. It was not the time to tell her of his own feelings. She had no choice but to return to his home, and until she was free to decide what she wanted to do, he would not burden her further. So the matter was settled.

* * * *

Within a week Clayborne left Chipping Campden with Rebecca, Constance, Elvira and Harpert, while Mott returned to Yorkshire to bring George to Gray Oaks.

A letter was dispatched to Rebecca’s parents placating them with the news that she was returning to her husband’s home and inviting Mary to join them immediately. Since the wedding was planned for a mouth hence, preparations began in earnest and Constance’s brother was enlisted to urge the extreme suitability of the marriage on his mother, who was reluctant to believe that Constance could have found an eligible match by herself after all her mother’s years of effort.

Mary arrived in the Farthington Hall carriage with her abigail, “For,” as she explained, “I told Mama I would not come if Turnip was to come with me. And Mama was so grateful to be rid of her unfeeling daughter that she gave in within a day!”

“I cannot thank you enough, Mary, for I don’t think I could have tolerated Turnip just now,” Rebecca admitted frankly. “I want you to meet Elvira, who is staying with us, and little George will be here soon with his father. You’ll not be able to get any sense out of Constance, for she has her head in the clouds.”

“Pay no attention to her, Mary dear. I’m sure I have been the soul of practicality, making lists I promptly lose and purchasing items I do not need. But I am told everything will come about in the end,” Constance confided.

“I’m so pleased for you, Constance. Mott is the nicest of gentlemen, except for Clayborne, of course.” Mary’s enthusiasm was so sincere that Rebecca, who had worried that her sister’s heart might have been touched by the widower, felt immeasurably relieved.

“Your room is ready for you, Mary, but Elvira is in the stables and wished to meet you as soon as you arrived, so I shall send for her. She’s a girl Constance and I met in the Cotswolds and she’ll be staying with Jason and me for several months.”

“No, don’t send for her. I shall go to the stables right now, for I wish to see Firely first thing and I’ll meet her there.”

Fortunately, the two young ladies enjoyed each other’s company from the start, which was not cause for surprise since they shared such an enthusiastic interest in horses. By the time they returned to the house, they were chatting like old friends, which delighted Rebecca and Constance, since they knew only too well that the preparations for the wedding would absorb much of their time for the next few weeks.

The local dressmaker insisted that the numerous fittings she required of Constance were absolutely essential and the bride acquiesced, until Mott arrived with George. Fortunately, since Constance spent most of her time with him, the majority of the work was far enough under way to demand less of her attention to it. The ribbons and trimmings did not necessitate fittings, and if Mrs. Potter did not receive prompt answers to her inquiries on whether the white crape apron should be narrower at the top, and whether the jet beads should be in a pattern on the rouleau, she was indulgent of Constance’s distraction. One could not expect the full attention of a bride.

Clayborne did not expect any attention at all from his wife. Although Mary and Elvira took charge of little George, including him in their expeditions and rides, Rebecca found the time to read to him from books Clayborne had had as a child, tolerantly agreeing to read the story of a medieval barony several times, as it had caught George’s fancy. Clayborne stood in the boy’s doorway, where he had come to bid his nephew good-night, and listened to Rebecca read, her head bent over the book and her arm encircling the lad’s shoulders. And he ached to have her in his arms, to set all right again. When she glanced up and saw him, she smiled. “We are nearly finished, Jason.”

They left the room together but he had no opportunity to speak with her, as she had promised Constance that she would come directly to see the gowns which had been delivered that day. On the way she chatted of the decorations, food, flowers and rooms to be prepared for the guests staying at Gray Oaks for the wedding. In addition to these tasks, he knew she spent an hour or so a day with Elvira, reading with her or showing her needlework stitches. She also walked or rode with Mary daily and was willing to listen to Constance’s plans or Mott’s concerns at any time. Clayborne seldom had a moment alone with her and, what worried him more, she seldom had any time to herself.

Pausing before her friend’s door, she said, “I have planned an excursion for the girls to see the Norman Cathedral in Chichester tomorrow, Jason. We may go on to Bosham or Fishborne. Do you think George would like that? I don’t know how I came to forget mentioning it to him.”

“I do. You have too many things on your mind, Rebecca. Couldn’t Mrs. Lambert handle more of the details?”

“I enjoy it, Jason, and she is doing more than enough already.” Poor Mrs. Lambert, Rebecca thought. Although she must have been extremely curious about my return, she did not indicate it by word or deed, and her iron rule over the other indoor servants has kept their interest within bounds. “Do you think George would like to go with us?”

“Yes, I imagine he would, but, Rebecca...”

Constance thrust her head out the door. “I thought I heard you here, my dear. Have you time to see my gowns?”

“Yes, it’s why I’ve come. Thank you, Jason. I shall ask George in the morning.”