Supervising Sally (2 page)

Zachary Walton, Earl of Wrekin, handed his hat and riding gloves to her ladyship's maid when she opened the door of their suite at the Old Hall.

‘Thank you, Turner. Is my sister in?'

‘Yes, my lord. I will bring some Madeira.'

He nodded, and knocked lightly on the parlour door, before walking in. Beatrice rose from her escritoire, where she had been writing letters, smiled at him, and came across the room to reach up and kiss him on the cheek.

‘Zachary, you made good time. It's good to see you after so long. You look well. Can you stay?'

‘A night only, I'm afraid, then I have to go to London. I expect to be sent to Brussels soon after Christmas, and there are many things to arrange first. But I will make sure I come to Ridgeway Park for your party.'

‘Brussels?' Beatrice looked thoughtful as she sat down again, and Zachary grinned at her. What was she plotting now? Beatrice was five years older than he, but they had always been good friends, except when she tried to force him to do things he objected to, like make offers to her young acquaintances. When he finally married, and he knew that one day he must, he intended to choose his own bride, not have one foisted on him by his sister, however fond of her he was.

‘Not everyone is in Vienna at the Congress,' he said, and she laughed. ‘There is some diplomatic activity going on elsewhere too, and perhaps more successfully than with those laggards in Vienna.'

‘I do know. My sister-in-law's husband is there.'

‘Sir William Benton? I heard he had some new diplomatic duties. Do you wish me to take him your good wishes?'

‘Not precisely. I wish you to take him his daughter.'

‘I beg your pardon?' What was Beatrice up to now? ‘Is she another of the damsels you keep thrusting under my nose?'

‘Oh, by no means! Sally Benton is too young for you. She's only seventeen, and a handful. That's why her mother wants to be rid of her.'

He clasped his brow theatrically and staggered to collapse onto a chair by the window. ‘I think you'd better explain.'

Beatrice laughed. ‘Sally's mother, Clara, is busy remodelling Benton Manor. You know she inherited a fortune from her godfather?'

‘Yes, but William is rich enough to do up his own house if he wants to, without that.'

‘Clara and William do not, I'm afraid, have a great deal in common. They have lived separate lives for the past ten years, since she produced her son. He is happy for her to entertain herself with architectural improvements while he moves in diplomatic circles.'

‘Hasn't he recently returned from Brazil?'

‘Yes, and he is now in Brussels.'

‘But why must Sally go there?'

‘Her governess has retired, and Sally is a handful.'

‘I do recall some outrageous pranks when she was younger, and visiting you and Gregory.'

‘Clara is unwilling to leave her architects and present Sally this coming Season, and she told me she felt it was time William took a hand in rearing her. With him fixed in Brussels, and as most of the polite world seem to have transferred themselves there, or to Vienna, it provided her with an ideal opportunity.'

Zachary frowned. ‘You almost make me feel sorry for Sally. Does her father want her?'

‘I'm sure he doesn't, her presence will severely cramp his style. He has a reputation with the ladies, you know.'

‘Yes, I do,' Zachary replied, recalling some of the more deplorable stories circulating in the clubs. ‘Can't he refuse to have her?'

‘Clara has threatened to prevent young Frederick from visiting his father during his summer holidays if he refuses to have Sally.'

‘William sounds like a puny sort of fellow if he puts up with that.'

‘He is the sort of man who prefers a peaceful life without domestic strife.'

‘Then he should never have married Clara! It sounds as though Sally takes after her mother.'

‘He did marry her, and has to live with it.'

‘If you say so. But what is this about my escorting Sally to Brussels? It's impossible! Think of the scandal of the two of us travelling together.'

‘But you would not be alone with her. I can provide Sally with a companion she will like, and she will have her maid. You will have your valet. You will be quite a large party.'

He shook his head. He should have known Beatrice better. ‘You have it all planned, I see, and it's pointless my arguing. Very well, I'll bear lead Sally to Brussels, but I will have no more to do with her once I have handed her over to her father. Was that what you wanted me to say?'

‘Dear Zachary, I knew I could depend on you.'

Mrs Kingston held out her hand and smiled. She was a small woman, still pretty, but ill health had faded her looks. Her
gown was an old favourite, the skirt wider than fashionable, but it was neat, and she had a warm if old Paisley shawl about her shoulders.

‘Do forgive me for not rising, Lady Drayton.'

‘Of course you must not. I know you have been very ill, and I came to see how you were.'

‘Much better, thank you. That dreadful cold and cough have gone, thank goodness, but I still feel dreadfully weak from being confined to bed for so long, unable to take my usual walks.'

‘Phoebe tells me you are going to live with Jane in Yorkshire. Your friends in Buxton will miss you.'

Phoebe thought she saw a shadow cross her mother's face. ‘I'll miss them too, but it seems best for everyone if I accept Jane's kind invitation and go to live with her and her family. The past few weeks have been difficult for Phoebe with so much extra to do, looking after me.'

‘Mama, you know I haven't minded.'

‘You've been very good to me.'

Beatrice smiled at her. ‘Well, at least we can see you often there. Ridgeway Park is only ten miles away from Bradshaw Towers, and maybe you could spend some time with us. I rarely go away now, with Lord Drayton preferring to remain at home most of the time. It does not seem fair to leave him for more than a few days.'

‘We'd be very grateful. You have always been good to us.'

‘I will be going away for a few weeks in the New Year, though. I've come with an ulterior motive this time, I have to confess. Lord Drayton's niece, Sally Benton, is to go to visit her father in Brussels for a few months. I am hoping you will permit Phoebe to accompany her as a companion.'

Phoebe gasped. She had made enquiries at the Buxton Registries, but they had not been optimistic about her chances of obtaining employment. She looked too young,
they said. One lady had sniffed and said she was too pretty; employers would be afraid young and impressionable male relatives would be too taken with her. She was resigned to going to Yorkshire in a few days' time, and pessimistic about her chances of finding a suitable position from there. This would be a reprieve.

‘To Brussels? So far away?' Mrs Kingston said, her voice doubtful. ‘But is it safe?'

‘It's been safe for six months, since that monster abdicated. You need not worry about Phoebe. She would be well taken care of. Sally will have a maid to accompany her, an older woman who has known her all her life. My brother will be in charge of the party, but first, I was intending to take both girls to London immediately after Christmas to buy clothes. Sally will have nothing suitable, as she has lived all her life in the country. And I will buy whatever Phoebe needs. We intend to pay her a good salary, too.'

The amount she mentioned made Phoebe gasp again. It was far more than they had told her to expect at the registries.

‘Phoebe can escort you to Yorkshire, spend Christmas with you, and I will send a carriage for her so that we can travel to London together and pick up Sally on the way. Her home is in Oxfordshire. Well, Phoebe, will you oblige me by helping me with my niece?'

There were very few people in London, Zachary discovered, when he dined at his club on the evening he reached town. Most had retreated to their country estates for Christmas or were guests at houses of friends. Only those whose business kept them in London, or who detested the country, remained. One of the latter was Hester, Lady Mickleton. He had found a scented note from her when he arrived at his rooms, and
spent the dinner hour wondering whether to accept the invitation enclosed. If he did, she might take it as encouragement, and he did not wish to permit their dalliance to develop into an affair.

Lady Mickleton had, he was well aware, had several lovers previously. She was a petite blonde, twenty-eight years old but with the aid of cosmetics pretending to be eighteen. Married to a man more than twice her age, she had produced the required heir within a year of her marriage, but the boy was kept in seclusion in their Northumberland castle, where Sir George also spent much of his time.

Zachary had enjoyed their light-hearted flirtation, but two considerations gave him pause before he allowed it to progress. He suspected Hester could become an intense and demanding mistress, and he had great admiration for Sir George, who had been a most successful soldier before being badly wounded at Vimeiro. He did not want to deceive an honourable man. If Sir George had himself taken mistresses, the situation would be different, but Zachary had never heard a word about any infidelities.

In the end, knowing there would be several other people at the card party, he decided to go. He would be able to judge whether Hester was becoming impatient, and if so, he would distance himself from her. It would be a pity, but he would not lack female companionship. There were always bored wives and widows willing to flirt with personable men.

Lady Mickleton lived in Mount Street, and he was soon being admitted to the drawing-room, where he found a dozen or so people chatting. Lady Mickleton came forward to greet him, clasping his hands in hers, and enveloping him in a cloud of eau de nil.

‘You naughty man! You left town without telling me you were going to be away! I've been pining for you. But now you are back, for a long time, I hope.'

‘I'm afraid not. I'm promised to my sister in Yorkshire for Christmas,' he said, smiling down at her, then disengaged his hands and turned away to greet the other guests.

They were soon occupied at the card tables, but when there was a break for supper, Lady Mickleton came and sat beside Zachary.

‘I'm going home for Christmas too,' she said. ‘It's so long since I've seen little George, and I really must keep an eye on his new tutor. Sir George doesn't know how to tell whether he is doing his job adequately. Perhaps you could escort me as far as Ridgeway Park? And I haven't seen dear Beatrice for years. I detest travelling alone, innkeepers are never as helpful as when there is a man to take charge.'

Zachary heard warning bells. ‘I'm sorry, Hester, but I won't be able to leave until a few days before Christmas, and when I do I will have to travel faster than you would like. It would not allow you enough time to reach home before Christmas.'