Once Again a Bride (13 page)

“I did
not
let her out of the schoolroom! Cook says she can walk through walls.”

“You brought the cat?”

“I can’t leave her there,” Lizzy repeated. “Alec is going to get rid of her.”

“He is only sending her down to the country, Lizzy.”

“She won’t like it there. She’s a London cat. She won’t understand about the foxes. They’ll eat her!”

“I’m sorry, Lizzy,” Charlotte began. And she saw the idea being born in the girl’s dark blue eyes.

“If you are going to live here…”

“Yes, but I…”

“You could keep her, and I could come to visit.”

“I’m sure Callie wouldn’t like…”

“She’d be company for you,” Lizzy continued, nodding as if vistas were opening before her inner eye. “I’m sure she would be very good. And I would come every day to feed her and play with her.”

Though Charlotte was certain the cat would be anything but good, the thought of Lizzy’s company was pleasant. Not that it would truly be every day, of course… This pleasing picture dissipated. Seeing the sisters, she’d almost forgotten the recent disaster. Now, it all came rushing back. “Your brother will not wish you to visit. It…”

“I don’t care what he thinks! He’s being an absolute pill!”

A thought occurred to Charlotte. “Does he know you’re here?”

Anne evaded her eyes; Lizzy met her gaze with practiced, yet irresistible, pleading. “So, can Callie stay? Please?”

Charlotte tried, but she couldn’t resist her. “Well… all right. But when you return to the country, you must take her with…”

Lizzy was already up, heading for the hamper. Belatedly, Charlotte remembered the shelves of ancient pottery, the cases of fragile artifacts, downstairs. She jumped up and closed the drawing room door just as Lizzy undid the catch.

“You will like it here,” Lizzy cooed. “Charlotte is here. And I will come to see you every day.” The calico cat burst out of her prison, looked wildly around, and disappeared under the sofa. A moment later, a cat sneeze testified to the dust beneath it. Lizzy fell to her knees and peered into the darkness. “Callie.”

“Remember she needs to get used to a new place,” said Charlotte feebly. What had she done?

Lizzy remained on the floor. The others did not immediately realize that she was weeping. When they did, Anne rose and went to her. Gently, she pulled her up and back to her chair. “Everything is horrid!” Lizzy cried. Anne gave her a handkerchief. “Alec is beastly. Frances does nothing but moan. And now Anne will be gone all the time.”

“Not all the time, Lizzy. Hardly any time.” In answer to Charlotte’s look she added, “I am to attend a few gatherings for young people who are coming out next year. And a dancing class. My Aunt Earnton arranged it, so that I have some acquaintances.”

“Oh yes, Frances mentioned that to me. A useful idea.”

Lizzy snuffled. “I know I am a selfish pig. I know it is very good for you. It’s just… why can’t things be more like they used to?”

Charlotte ached for her. She was so familiar with the feeling that life was one change for the worse after another.

None of them noticed Callie creeping out from under the sofa. The cat was just suddenly there, with a paw on Lizzy’s knee. The girl scooped her into her lap and bent over her. Lizzy could come and see her cat whenever she liked, Charlotte decided. If her detestable brother showed up to accuse Charlotte of plotting to murder his sister or some such thing… well, she just hoped he tried it. Lizzy looked up from Callie’s variegated fur. She was going to be one of those fortunate young ladies who could cry and still be beautiful, Charlotte observed. Young men were going to be mowed down in swathes when she was turned loose on them. Lizzy sniffed. She straightened and sniffed again. Charlotte could almost feel her sunny nature reasserting itself. Callie began to groom her thick, now dusty, fur. “Tell Charlotte about your beau, Anne.”

“He is not…!”

“He asked her to stand up with him three times at their first dancing class. He is
smitten.
”

“Lizzy!” Anne’s blush was fiery. “He’s just being kind, because I have lived mostly in the country and don’t know anyone.”

“And he’s handsome,” Lizzy put in. “He has ‘lovely’ brown eyes.”

“I shall never confide in you again, wretched girl,” Anne threatened.

“I wouldn’t tell just anyone! Charlotte is family.”

The girls’ wrangling faded into the background as Charlotte struggled with a lump in her throat and an intense wish that they really were her family.

The drawing room door opened. Lizzy clutched the cat so hard she objected. “There is no need to announce me,” stated a cultured voice in the hall. Callie bolted for the cave under the sofa once more.

Frances Cole walked in, immaculate in a dark blue pelisse. “I thought I might find you here,” she said, looking from Anne to Lizzy sternly. “Whatever were you thinking, to go out without telling anyone, and alone? You know that is not allowed.”

“We did it because Alec is beastly,” replied Lizzy. “And we wanted to see Charlotte. Why should we not see Charlotte? It’s not fair!” Anne merely looked guilty.

Frances ignored her excuses. “As you must be aware, you are both in trouble. You may await me downstairs.”

Her eyes were steely. This was the woman who had reared four children, and done it well, thought Charlotte.

“You can look at the artifacts,” Frances added, with an unexpected dash of dry humor. “It will be educational.”

Lizzy put on a martyred face. It looked as if she would argue, but Anne pulled her from the room. Frances sat on the sofa. She gave no sign that she found the furnishings shabby. “Whatever happened between you and Alec? All I could gather was that there was shouting.”

Charlotte couldn’t bring herself to explain. What would happen to that sympathetic gaze if she revealed Jem Hanks’s accusation?

Frances waited. “Of course you are not obliged to tell me. But I would like to help.”

Tears clogged Charlotte’s throat. She could only shake her head.

The older woman considered her for a long moment. “Very well. But if there is anything I can do to patch it up, simply ask.”

“Thank you,” Charlotte managed.

Frances gazed into her eyes. A world of understanding seemed to fill her dark gaze. “Oh, my dear.”

“What?”

Frances started to speak, then thought better of it.

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

Frances hesitated again, then nodded. A claw swiped from under the sofa and caught in the braided trim of her pelisse. It tugged, then let go. “Wh… Lizzy hasn’t brought that dreadful cat here?”

The horror on her face brought Charlotte a smile. “I am to keep her until you go back to the country.”

“You are… no, this is outrageous. Lizzy goes too far.”

“It’s all right.” At least she hoped it was.

“Charlotte, you are not obliged to house that animal!”

“I want to…” Frances’s skeptical expression stopped her. “Well, maybe not want to, but I’d like to help Lizzy.”

“You’re very kind.”

“Lizzy, and Anne, make it easy.”

Frances’s smile was warm. She rose. “If you’re sure. I must get them back home now. Alec will be worried.”

“Of course.”

“You will remember. If there is anything I can do, or that you need, you need only say so.”

“Thank you.” The words were heartfelt. Frances held out a hand. Charlotte clasped it briefly, and then her caller was gone.

Charlotte sat on in the empty drawing room for some minutes. Finally, she shook herself, started to rise, and noticed Callie a few feet away, staring at her from yellow eyes. Dust lingered in her fur despite her grooming. “We will dust under the sofa,” she told her. “We are just getting organized, you know. We’ll find you a soft spot of your own. Oh… I do hope Mrs. Trask likes cats.”

Callie stared.

“I’m doing my best. It’s been… rather difficult.”

Callie turned her head slowly, as if scanning the room with disdain. She stepped closer to the sofa and inserted a delicate claw into the upholstery.

“No! You will
not
shred the furniture, shabby as it may be.”

The cat looked at her again, and kept looking as she deliberately raked the cloth. It was so old it tore easily.

“Callie!”

The cat’s yellow gaze seemed to say, “I can do as I please. I
shall
do as I please.”

Instead of anger, Charlotte felt a sudden lift of expansion.
She
could do what she liked in this house now. Henry’s despicable will had said nothing whatsoever about the upper floors. “This room would work better for dining,” she said aloud. It was smaller than the one that now held a table. It made sense to reverse them, and she could do that. She could do what she wanted with the space that was left to her. She stood in one quick rush. She was going to go through every room and examine every item and keep only those she liked. The rest would be thrown out or relegated to the attics, starting with those mawkish figurines on the mantelshelf. There might even be a bit of money for new curtains, if she was very careful.

“People will claim I need a chaperone.”

Callie, sniffing along the baseboard, ignored her.

Exactly; she would ignore them. “For what? To fight off hordes of suitors besieging a penniless widow?” The idea was ridiculous. “I’m damned if I’ll have one,” she said. She’d never sworn in her life, and knew very well how shocked people would be to hear the phrase on her lips. “I’m damned if I will,” she added.

Callie clawed at the molding. There probably were mice.

“You have my permission to kill any rodent you encounter,” she said. Then she looked, and was relieved to discover that Lizzy had left the hamper. “Here, kitty.”

Mrs. Wright walked into Alec’s study without knocking, and wringing her hands—bad signs. Alec had braced himself even before the housekeeper said, “Miss Anne and Miss Lizzy are gone.”

“What? What do you mean, gone?”

“They’re not in the house, and none of the staff know where they are.” Mrs. Wright sounded braced for an explosion.

Alec was already halfway to the door. “Their maid…”

“Susan has not seen them since early morning. Everyone thought they were in the schoolroom together.”

It was nearly eleven. Alec pushed down panic. “Perhaps they’ve gone for a walk in the park or…” But he knew as well as Mrs. Wright that they were forbidden to go out without informing someone, and their maid or a footman went with them.

He should have hired another governess for Lizzy; he knew that. It had just begun to feel futile. “Gather the household.” He would organize a search—of the neighborhood, of the whole of London, if it came to that.

All the servants lined up in the front hall. “Where is Frances?” Alec wondered when everyone had gathered.

“She went out,” Ethan informed him.

“Out where?”

“She didn’t say, sir.”

“Splendid.” Alec started dividing the servants into pairs to be sent into the streets. He had just finished when a key turned in the lock and Anne and Lizzy walked in the front door. Frances was close behind them. They all stopped on the threshold, startled. “Where have you been?” Alec shouted.

Anne blinked; Lizzy’s chin came up in an all-too-familiar way, presaging a storm about to break. Alec struggled with a choking mix of relief and fury. He’d provided enough of a spectacle for one day. Calm, he told himself; control and reason. “Thank you, everyone,” he managed. “Obviously, they are home safe.”

He herded them into the study and shut the door on the sea of eyes. “Would someone care to give me an explanation?”

“I went to find them,” offered Frances unhelpfully.

“Find them. Where were they?” He looked from Anne to Lizzy, resisting the impulse to shout. “And what possible excuse do you have for telling no one that you were going out?”

“We went to see Charlotte,” declared Lizzy. “And we didn’t tell you because you have been so horridly grumpy.”

“We knew you… quarreled about something,” Anne added.

“And we were
not
going to be stopped,” Lizzy finished.

Frances merely stood there, observing him as if he were an interesting stranger.

Conflicting feelings threatened to derail the conversation. Alec shoved them aside. “Unacceptable. In fact, I cannot imagine an acceptable reason for you to leave this house without informing someone. Since you apparently do not have the judgment to know that, you are forbidden to go out at all.”

“Anne’s dancing class is tomorrow,” objected Lizzy.

“She should have thought of that before…”

“I made her go without telling,” Lizzy interrupted.

“I am older; I should have refused,” said Anne.

It was perfectly true, but Alec was only too aware of Lizzy’s powers of persuasion. “Anne will go to the class with her maid, as before. However, you, Lizzy…”

His younger sister’s chin jutted even further. “I’m going to see Callie. If you try to stop me I will climb out the window and run away!”

“You know you cannot go to the country just…”

“To Charlotte’s. Every day. I promised.”

It took Alec a moment. “You passed that hellish cat off onto…?”

“She was happy to have her.
She’s
kind!”

He wanted to ask about her. But the very intensity of that desire, the fact that he had been missing her so much even in this short time, made the question impossible. “You are both confined to the schoolroom for the rest of the day.”

“I’m hungry,” Lizzy objected. “Are you going to
starve
us?”

Alec glared at her. “A tray will be sent up. But be warned! If you do not begin to conduct yourself with more propriety, Elizabeth, I will have to take extreme measures.”

Lizzy started to answer, but Anne tugged at her arm. “Come on, Lizzy.” She pulled her from the room, for which Alec was deeply grateful. He had no notion what he meant by “measures.”

Frances remained, still looking at him in that odd way.

“Something has to be done about Lizzy,” he told her. “She seems to have gone quite wild during Anne’s illness.” Frances nodded; what was wrong with the woman now? “Should it be a governess, imagining we could find one able to manage her? Should we send her off to school?” She so passionately did not wish to go. Everything was a passion play with her lately. She wouldn’t listen to sense; she wouldn’t compromise. He had no doubt that she would disrupt any school he chose with rebellious pranks. “Frances? Are you listening to me?”

“I’m sure you will think of something,” was the calm reply. She smiled and left him there, wondering if his whole household had gone quite mad.

Alec sat at his desk and stared unseeing at the welter of papers. A cold trickle of dread pricked through him; his sister’s stubbornness and wild exaggerations had begun to remind him of his grandmother’s intransigence. Temperaments were inherited; he had seen as much among his own acquaintances. But surely such tendencies could be… diverted, guided into wholesome paths? How? Shouting at Lizzy was useless, yet he kept doing it. He couldn’t seem to help it.

Alec rested his forehead on his hand. Frances was no help these days. The thought of going to his stately, censorious Aunt Earnton for advice made him cringe. He became conscious of a desire to ask Charlotte what to do. She’d been so helpful with both Anne and Lizzy. She would know…

The look on her face as she’d slammed out of his study came back to him, as it had a hundred times since then. He had to go see her on his own account. He’d put it off because the idea roused such regret, doubt, confusion—and because he wanted it so much.

***

Lucy came into the kitchen, dusty from a morning’s cleaning, to find a bright fire and the scent of apples. Tess Hopkins, who had come down a bit earlier, stood beside Mrs. Trask, watching her every move. “You cut the shortening into small bits, and then work it into the flour with this.” Mrs. Trask showed Tess the proper tool and then vigorously demonstrated its use. “See how the dried apples have plumped up after we soaked them,” she added, hands busy.

Tess’s youth and lack of experience made Lucy feel mature and competent. Tess was a good girl, if shy. Unexpected happenings made her jumpy. It was a pure pleasure to see how Mrs. Trask drew her out and taught her.

Lucy got a glass of water and sat at the kitchen table to drink it. Most everything about Mrs. Trask, and her husband too, was a pure pleasure. This kitchen was a different world with them in charge—spanking clean, full of delicious smells, calm and comfortable. It was a marvel how the same room, the same walls and stove and implements, could be so altered. It was like that with the rest of the basement, too. Ethan and James had come over to move furniture down from the spare bedrooms, and Mrs. Trask had created a cozy chamber in back. Lucy wouldn’t have believed you could do that with furniture from this house, but Mrs. Trask just had a gift. She did, and Miss Charlotte, too, who was doing the same upstairs. Lucy suspected she was still arranging and rearranging, even though she’d dismissed them. It was like a curse had been lifted from the place, and the Trasks were the good fairies.

The thought made her smile. Lucy deeply admired and respected the old couple. She couldn’t imagine a practical problem that Mr. Trask couldn’t solve. She hoped they liked her well enough, too, though she sometimes felt they watched her rather close. Strangers getting to know each other, probably.

She hadn’t realized they were Ethan’s grandparents right at first. The name should have told her, but she’d just been too flummoxed to think. When it sank in, she’d been amazed by his kindness in getting them to come here. And seeing him with them since, she’d begun to wonder if she was mistaken about his character. ’Course a fellow might behave one way with his family and quite another with women he fancied. More than likely too; Lucy knew that. Still…

As if summoned by her thought, Ethan came tromping down the basement stair from the back hall. “Grandad just can’t resist a garden, eh?” he said. “What does he think he can do with that patch of hardpan out there?”

“Was he being careful of his back?” asked Mrs. Trask sharply.

Ethan saluted. “Following orders, ma’am; no heavy digging. I believe he’s set the cat to that. She’s started a fine hole by the wall. ’Course maybe that’s an escape tunnel. I wouldn’t put it past her.”

“Scamp.” She went back to crimping the edges of her pie. “And what are you doing here again? Not slacking on your work?”

“No, ma’am. Ladies have gone to my Lord Earnton’s, with James in attendance, except for Miss Lizzy, who’s still confined to quarters. I have a list of errands a yard long. Can’t even stay till that pie’s out of the oven.” He grinned at her.

“This is for dinner, my lad. You keep your greedy hands out of my baking.” But she smiled back.

Ethan dropped into a chair. “Lucy. Tess.”

Nodding back, Lucy noticed yet again how polite Ethan was with Tess. He never flirted with her.

“If you’ve so little to do, you can go out and help your grandad,” said Mrs. Trask. There was an odd little twist in her tone, more, and less, than regular teasing.

“He’s just wandering about dreaming a garden, Gran. He doesn’t want me underfoot.” Ethan turned to Lucy. “Grandad pictures it all in his head beforehand—the garden. You should see the plantings at the Wylde country place. Sir Alexander says they’re like a painting. The gentry come from all over to see Grandad’s gardens and consult him on what they should do with their own, too. He’s like to be famous.”

Mrs. Trask flushed with pleasure.

“It sounds wonderful,” said Lucy. “I hope I can see them one day.” There was a short silence. Lucy felt as if she’d said something awkward, though she hadn’t.

“Susan says hello,” Ethan went on then. “Oh, and Jennings sent word that if you want to come see her on your day out, she’d be happy to continue with the training.”

Lucy’s chest swelled with happiness. Maybe things would come out right, after all. Who would have thought this terrible house could feel like a home, for instance? Yet it was really beginning to.

Ethan and his grandmother chatted about folk from Derbyshire. The scent of apple pie filled the air. After a while Mr. Trask came in, Callie at his heels. Amazingly, the cat curled up on the hearth and went to sleep.

The front doorbell rang. Tess started and dropped the pan she’d been scrubbing. But after a moment she straightened her apron and went to answer it. Lucy couldn’t help a tremor of apprehension herself. Who would visit them here, and what good could come of it?

***

Alec handed his card to a very young housemaid at his uncle’s former residence. She left him standing in the street for several minutes. “Madame is not at home,” she told him shakily when she returned.

A lifetime of good manners sizzled and went up in smoke. “Nonsense.” He pushed past the girl, sending her running as if he were an invading army. After a quick look around the empty first floor, he marched upstairs. In what he remembered as the drawing room, he found a dining table and chairs. In the room opposite, he finally discovered Charlotte. She wore an apron over a shabby gown and held a filthy dust cloth. “Why are you doing the maid’s work?” he asked, then wished he’d held his tongue.

Charlotte threw down the cloth as if it were a dead rat. She clutched the apron, began pulling it off. “How dare you…?”

Heavy footsteps on the stair heralded a white-haired giant. “Everything all right, ma’am?” he said.

Alec was disoriented. He knew this man. Where had he…? “Trask? What are you doing here?”

“The missus and I work here.” He looked at Charlotte. “Ma’am? Is all well?”

Alec’s head spun. It appeared that his former head gardener stood ready to eject him from the house. “I thought you were retired,” was all he found to say.

“It’s fine, Trask, thank you,” said Charlotte. When he’d gone, she added. “What do you want?”

What did he
not
want, Alec wondered? Seeing her again, lovely even in such a homely setting, had scattered his wits. He found himself transfixed by her coppery eyes, her lips which had met his so fervently… He groped for his set speech. “I came to apologize, of course. I told Hanks that he is insane and dismissed him. He took me unawares with his ridiculous…”

“And what if other people think as he did?”

“No one would…”

“You believed it. For a moment.”

“I did not!”

“I saw it in your eyes.” Her voice wavered, and Alec felt it like a blow to his chest. She swallowed. “Get Hanks back. Let him watch this house, examine my background, follow me through the streets if he likes. He will find nothing wrong!”

“I know that. You have to understand; my first thought is always to protect my sisters…”

“From me?”

“No, no, of course not. I admit my mistake. I am very sorry for it.” Charlotte said nothing. “There are… elements of our family history that make me… overprotective, I suppose.” Charlotte tossed her apron over a chair. She was looking everywhere but at him. Increasingly uncomfortable, Alec continued, “My grandparents’ household, where we lived until I was six years old, was… a place of turmoil and acrimony. My sisters and brother, being younger, were spared much of the experience, and I vowed that their lives would be… peaceful.”

“Peaceful,” Charlotte repeated.

He could not read her tone. But… was she staring at his lips? Nonsense; she couldn’t be. “Of course my father had been even more… disturbed by the disaster of his parents’ ‘love match.’ His whole life was made a misery by them. I learned from his example. He strove always for the reasonable path. He chose a wife for her compatible background and equable disposition; they were quite contented…” He had completely lost the thread of this conversation, Alec thought. He was saying too much, and what had it to do with apologizing?