The Makeshift Marriage (28 page)

Their progress across the marsh did not pass unnoticed. The poachers watched them from the secrecy of the reeds, and although she could not see them, Laura knew they were there. She could tell that Mr. Dodswell was aware of them too, for he kept glancing around. It was an uneasy feeling, not at all pleasant, but not once did they see anybody, although once they saw the Tibdales’ large black gun dog.

* * *

A week later Laura was working in the library. Working was the only way to describe what she did, for it was certainly not an idle passing of the time. Her head ached with reading the household accounts. Not only had King’s Cliff been grossly overstaffed, it was also wasting money very unnecessarily. What point was there in sending to London for the best tea, when there was undoubtedly excellent tea closer in Taunton? And why pay for the services of a fellow from Essex to come to examine one of the brood mares? Surely there were skilled men in Somerset too? Why have this fellow simply because it was fashionable, for that was nonsensical in the present climate. She dipped her quill in the ink again and made another note. Jesu, the list seemed endless. She put the quill down and wearily stretched her arms above her head, wishing that she was out riding with Daniel Tregarron now instead of sitting inside poring over figures and entries that were fast becoming a blur. Maybe she had worked too long. She glanced at the clock. It was half-past four; Mr. McDonald would return soon from what he had informed her would be his last piece of surveying. Today he would tell her what, if anything, could be done.

Her glance fell on another sheet of paper on the escritoire before her. Already there were several servants who were unable to find new positions, and Hawkins had brought their names to her earlier. She had given her word and she stood by that, just as she stood by the word she had given to Nicholas. Now she was set to begin writing some letters to surrounding landowners, asking them to consider employing Bridget Donovan, Frederick Hartley, Joseph Bride, Benjamin Cruickshank, and so on, and so on…
.
Maybe some would respond favorably, for the servants employed at King’s Cliff had always been the very finest, but there would be many landowners who would tear up her letter simply because it came from her.

Hawkins announced Mr. McDonald and she looked up quickly. “Good afternoon, sir.”

He gave a graceful bow and she hid a smile. His elegance never ceased to surprise her. He would never look like an engineer; he was formed for the drawing room, not for ditches add drainage schemes. “Good afternoon, Lady Grenville. I am happy to tell you that I have completed my survey and so am able to tell you my findings.”

“Please sit down, sir.”

He obeyed. “First, I must tell you that in my opinion it will be reasonably easy to drain King’s Cliff Moor.”

“Easy?”

“Most of the medieval workings are still there, and those which aren’t can be made good speedily enough. None of it requires such major work that things will become complicated or difficult. It is merely
hard
work, if you follow me. The rhines do not at present carry away the excess water, but that is because they are choked and virtually useless. If they were dredged and maybe widened a little, then the water would begin to move again. I have studied the system’s outfall into the River Parrett and believe it is adequate still for the volume of water involved. With five hundred laborers, the work could be commenced and well on its way by this autumn. By this time next year it could be complete and King’s Cliff Moor well on the way to becoming fertile farming land, as Sir Nicholas wishes.”

“Five hundred men?” she gasped, taken aback.

He smiled. “The projects I have worked on with Sir John Rennie in the Fenlands have employed upward of a thousand men, Lady Grenville.” Something caught his eye outside and he looked out to see Augustine and her mother mounting their horses for a ride. “They will be sorry, I fear, for it will rain in a few minutes, and quite heavily too, if I’m not mistaken.”

I sincerely hope it pours down and leaves them like drowned rats, she thought. “You can read the weather, Mr. McDonald?”

“I have learned to take note of all the signs
—being stranded out in the middle of a marsh when a downpour happens along is not exactly a pleasant experience, I assure you, and it has happened to me more than once.”

She smiled at him. “Thank you for coming here, Mr. McDonald, your helpfulness has been much appreciated. I realize that the cost of what you suggest will not be low, and for that reason I cannot give you any instructions to go ahead until after the forthcoming auction, of which you have no doubt heard.”

“I saw the notices in today’s newspapers.”

“As will the rest of the land.”

“It will come as a shock to many. The King’s Cliff hunt in particular is practically an institution.”

“Well, I trust that someone with a bulging purse wishes it to continue so somewhere else. Mr. McDonald, will you tell Sir Nicholas what you have told me?”

“I will indeed.” He stood. “Lady Grenville, I must decline to dine here tonight, for I am already overdue at my aunt’s house in Bath. She is a little crotchety at the best of times, and tardy nephews appear to bring out the very worst in her.”

She smiled. “I quite understand, sir. I have enjoyed your excellent company at dinner this past week.”

He inclined his head. “You are most gracious, my lady.”

She wondered how much he was aware of the situation in the house? Could he have missed the fact that Sir Nicholas Grenville and his wife hardly ever saw each other? Could he have missed the fact that Augustine Townsend appeared to be too often with the master of the house? No, thought Laura, he could hardly have missed any of it, but there was nothing in his manner to hint that he noticed anything. She held out her hand to him. “I trust, sir, that you will hear from us in the not-too-distant future.”

He kissed her hand. “And I hope, Lady Grenville, that the auction goes well and thus lifts the weight from Sir Nicholas’s shoulders.”

She sat down to work again when he had gone, and she had been writing for some time when she heard the first heavy drops against the window. A rumble of thunder spread across the skies and the rain began to fall more heavily with each passing second. She sat back, smiling. Let the heavens open, and let there be no shelter for Miss Augustine Townsend and her mother!

Mr. McDonald was still engaged with Nicholas when the thunderstorm at last ended and the sun came out. The birds sang their hearts out in the park and the leaves dripped, their colors more vibrant and fresh now. Augustine and her mother had not returned, and Laura had inquired of Hawkins where they were, only to be told that their destination had been the Countess of Bawton’s house. Their purpose had been twofold, first to meet the Duke of Gloucester if possible, and second
—and more important as far as Laura was concerned—to arrange the reception at King’s Cliff at which Laura was expected to receive the ladies of the neighborhood. Her heart had sunk on hearing this, for she had been
praying that Augustine would let the matter drop, but obviously that was not to be. Augustine was hardly likely to let such an ideal opportunity of making her rival’s life more miserable slip away.

With the sun came Mr. Dodswell, intent upon seeing Nicholas, but when he was informed that the engineer was with the master, the agent found himself shown instead into Laura’s presence.

She smiled, putting down her quill. “Why, Mr. Dodswell, how good it is to see you. Please sit down.”

“I
—er, came to see Sir Nicholas.”

“Mr. McDonald is with him. Can I help in any way?”

“I
—no.”

She looked at him in surprise. “Is something wrong, Mr. Dodswell?”

“No, my lady.”

“Does it concern the estate?”

“Yes.”

“Then please be good enough to tell me.”

The agent cleared his throat uncomfortably, for the last thing he wanted to do was speak to Laura about this particular matter. But she waited, and he had no choice but to tell her. “It appears that a certain portion of Langford Woods, at present due to be auctioned, should in fact be offered to Dr. Tregarron first. I found a paper signed by Sir Jasper to this effect, as apparently the doctor had once expressed an interest in the land, which adjoins his own property.”

“And is the paper legally binding?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Then the land must of course be first offered to him.”

Mr. Dodswell knew his cheeks were flaming now. “I am anxious not to cross Sir Nicholas in any way, my lady.”

“Of course.” She thought for a moment. “I will see Dr. Tregarron, and thus you will be spared any involvement.”

“You?”

“Why not? I have no quarrel with the doctor, indeed quite the opposite, for in him I have found a good friend. I will go to see him this afternoon.”

The agent was inwardly aghast that his visit should have produced this result, but outwardly he showed nothing but a polite smile. “There is no need, Lady Grenville
—”

“Nonsense, someone has to see him about the land and I am quite capable of performing the task.”

The agent stood, and she looked curiously at him again. He seemed very odd today. “Are you sure that there is nothing wrong, Mr. Dodswell?”

“Quite sure, my lady.”

“You are not unwell?”

“I am perfectly well.”

“I hope you are not working too hard, sir, for I realize that you have had a great deal to do of late.”

He smiled then. “I believe I work no harder than you, Lady Grenville.”

“I have nothing else of importance to do.” She lowered her eyes then.

“If anyone should be asked if he is feeling unwell at the moment, Lady Grenville, I believe that person to be the Earl of Longford.”

“Oh?”

Mr. McDonald smiled again. “He saw the notices in the newspapers this morning, and I believe Mount Vesuvius gives a poorer show of fireworks than our noble earl.”

“Good, I hope he bursts with rage.”

“From what I heard, my lady, that seems a distinct possibility.”

She walked to the main doors with the agent, her shawl trailing a little on the top step as she watched him ride away. How very strange his mood had been today. Something was on his mind, that much was for sure, but what could it be? It seemed so very odd that his own close friendship with Daniel Tregarron could stand in danger simply because Nicholas and Daniel had parted so acrimoniously. As the agent rode out of sight someone else approached King’s Cliff. For the second time that morning her heart sank, for the carriage bowling swiftly along the drive now belonged to no other than James Grenville, Earl of Langford.

Swiftly she went back into the house, determined to face Nicholas’s cousin in a place of her choosing, not his. But she had hurried up the staircase and along the passage toward the library when not far from Nicholas’s room she encountered Mr. McDonald. Dismayed, she halted, but she smiled warmly enough at him.

“You are about to leave us, sir?”

“I am indeed, Lady Grenville. Sir Nicholas was good enough to tell me that if the auction proves successful, then he will send for me to commence the work on the marsh.”

“I’m so glad, Mr. McDonald.”

At that moment the earl’s angry voice echoed in the vestibule. “I
demand
to see her!” he shouted.

Mr. McDonald was shocked, and Laura turned slowly as she heard the earl hurrying up the main staircase. He saw her immediately, and with his face red and his short plump figure-bristling with rage, he stomped toward her, waving a newspaper furiously as he did so. “How
dare
you stoop to vulgarly advertising what may yet be
my
property at an auction!”

“Please, sir,” began Mr. McDonald, quite appalled at such conduct in front of a lady.

“You keep out of this!” snapped the earl. “This has nothing whatsoever to do with you!”

Laura’s glance was withering. “Nor, sir, has it anything to do with you! What takes place on this estate is none of your business!”

“On the contrary, madam, it is entirely my business when I am heir to it!”

“Please leave.”

“Not until you agree to withdraw these abominable advertisements and cancel the auction.”

“If you do not leave, sirrah, I will have you forcibly removed.”

His eyes narrowed unpleasantly. “How dare you presume to adopt that insolent tone with me, madam!”

Another voice broke into the argument then. “Do as my wife says, James.”

With a gasp, Laura whirled about to see Nicholas leaning weakly against the door of his room. His face was ashen with the effort of rising from his bed, and his breathing was heavy and uneven. She hurried to him, drawing his arm around her shoulder and slipping her other arm around his waist as she called to the startled Scot to assist her.

James Grenville could only stare at his cousin.

Nicholas leaned slightly against Laura, holding the earl’s gaze. “Leave this house, James. You have no right to be here and no right to address my wife in that disparaging manner. She is my wife, and if you insult her, then you insult me. Never speak to her like that again, or so help me you will regret it. You will never inherit this house. I would as soon will it to the Langford smithy, for he would no doubt make a better fist of it than you! Now get out, and be warned that you will never be allowed to set foot over my threshold again.”

The enmity flowed evenly between the two Grenville cousins, and this time James knew he had met his match. It was James who backed down from further confrontation at that moment, turning away to walk quickly back toward the staircase. They heard his heavy steps descending, the main doors were closed loudly, and then there was silence.

Laura and Mr. McDonald helped Nicholas back into his bed, and when he was made comfortable, she looked anxiously down at him. “You should not have done that, you are not strong enough yet
—”

“What he said to you could not pass unchallenged, Laura, for you
are
my wife
.
” He smiled a little wryly. “For better, for worse.”