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Authors: Margaret Bennett

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BOOK: The Poor Relation
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Once inside, his dark eyes solemnly regarded her by the eerie light of a single taper sputtering in a holder on the wall.  He still held her arm, although his grip had loosened somewhat.

“You’d be wise to go directly to your room,” he said.

Again, she understood it as a command.  She nodded her head and leaned down to pick up Lady Caro.  Rising, she glanced up and was surprised at how close his face was to hers.  Although his expression had softened, his penetrating gaze made her wary.

He reached out a large hand and pushed several stray wisps of hair back from her face.  “You’re far too pretty to be roaming about the night on your own.”  For a moment, she thought he might kiss her.  Instead, he pulled back and touched the brim of his beaver top hat to bid her a silent good evening and entered the taproom.

Once upstairs,
she carried the little dog to Lady Milbanke’s chamber and tapped softly on the door.  Immediately it was opened, and Hannah poked her head out.  Wit her night cap askew over one long braid hanging down her left shoulder, the middle-aged matron wore a worried frown.  “Lord, Missy, where’ve you been?” she asked in a hoarse whisper.  “I was getting ready to rouse the landlord to go out after you.”

“I am sorry, Hannah.  The time just slipped by,” Chloe apologized.  “How is Lady Milbanke?”

“Went right to sleep, as usual.  Don’t think it’s likely we’ll be getting too early a start in the morning.”  After taking the Yorky from her, Hannah said good night and waited patiently until Chloe safely crossed the hall and entered her own room before closing the door.

Lying between the sheets on a lumpy mattress, waiting for Morpheus to overtake her, Chloe reviewed the encounter with the Viscount. There had b
een no mistaking who he was even though they had not exchanged introductions.  Obviously, he didn’t know her.  And why should he when she had been one of sundry faces in the Marquis of Clairmont’s crowded ballroom.  Still her pride was rankled.

R
emembering the condition of the curricle and his lathered cattle, she wondered where he’d come from, pushing his team so fast and furious. Since he’d arrived late, he’d most likely stay the night at the inn.  She considered how odd it was that after such a hard drive he’d roam the woods, especially considering the lateness of the hour.  Stranger still was the way he’d acted, hustling her back inside the inn.  She was sure someone else had been in those woods.  And then there was the way he had tenderly brushed her hair from her face.  What an unusual man.

She thought of Clair
mont Court.  By the time she and Lady Milbanke arrived tomorrow, the house party would be in full swing.  She wondered if the Viscount was also headed that way, then shook herself mentally.  It was most unlikely that their paths would ever cross again.  Still, it was some time before she drifted off to sleep.

 

 

 

***  Chapter 3  ***

The next morning with Hannah’s help, Chloe convinced her aunt to leave the inn after a late breakfast
.  So, by late afternoon, the coach lumbered up the long sweeping drive that wound through rolling parkland and Chloe got her first glimpse of Clairmont Court, a sixteenth century palatial, three story, limestone structure.  Behind the Court, she glimpsed portions of the famous gardens laid out by Capability Brown that backed up to woods.  As the carriage rounded a small pond, then stopped at the front terrace, a footman ran down the steps to help the ladies alight.

They were warmly greeted by the Marchioness, who took Lady Milbanke’s arm and led them up the stairs to their rooms.  Aft
er making sure Lady Milbanke and Chloe were satisfied with their bedchambers, Lady Clairmont added, “You’ll have plenty of time to refresh yourselves before tea.”

Chloe took a moment to glance about the
room with its soft blue damasked walls.  The large four-poster bed was topped with a dark blue canopy which matched the coverlet and window drapes.  A light blue Aubusson carpet covered most of the floor.  Chloe quickly stripped off her gloves and pelisse and gratefully washed off the travel dirt.  After changing into an afternoon gown of rose satin, she pulled her hair back into a loose knot, pulling several curls forward to frame her face.  With one last look in the cheval mirror to check her appearance, she crossed the hall to her aunt’s room.  Upon her knock, Hannah, frowning, admitted Chloe.

“Her ladyship’s complaining about a headache,” Hannah said, then whispered, “Her flask is dry and all the trunks haven’t come up yet.”

Chloe nodded, as she understood that Lady’s Sophia’s trunk with her booze stash hadn’t arrived yet. She walked over to a chaise lounge positioned in front of the fire where Lady Sophia sat in her dressing gown.  

Looking at Chloe, her aunt groused, “Two days bouncing around in a coach has made my bones hurt.”

“Hmmm, I do not doubt that,” Chloe said, brushing a stray gray curl off the baroness’s pale face.  “Still, Aunt, I am sure the Marchioness will be disappointed if you stay in your room.”

“Nonsense,” Lady Sophia huffed.  “Adele know
s I’m old.  After all, I’ve outlived her mother.”

“Of course you are right,” Chloe said, turning toward the door.  “I will have a tisane sent up.”

“No, no,” Lady Sophia said and rose stiffly.  “Dare say a hot tea will do me better than some foul-tasting herbal concoction. Hannah, help me dress and make sure my trunks are here when I get back.”

A short while later, Chloe entered the drawing room with her aunt on her arm.  They were immediately greeted by the Marchioness who made introduction as she led them around the room.

Lady Sarah enthusiastically welcomed both Lady Sophia and Chloe.  Dressed in a soft pink gown embroidered with tiny red and yellow flowers, the young lady brightened when she addressed Chloe.  “I am so very glad to have someone nearer to my own age, Miss Woodforde.  I do hope we can spend time together.”

Next to Lady Sarah stood the Dowager Lady Edwina Reaves and her son Sir
Clarence, who were both well known to the baroness and Chloe.  Sir Clarence, a handsome gentleman in his mid twenties with closely cropped blond hair, fair skin, and small pale blue eyes kept his focus on Lady Sarah.  As a companion, Chloe knew she could expect nothing else. 

Chloe followed Lady Clairmont and her aunt to where most of the gentlemen clustered about the large fireplace in the center of the long room.  Clairmont greeted his wife’s smile with one of his own before acknowledging the baroness and Chloe.  In turn, the Marquis introduced them to Mr. Leslie Pe
arson, who bowed to Lady Milbanke, nodded to Chloe, and then turned to the tall, slim gentleman beside him. 

Monsieur Pierre Guyot bowed deeply for the baroness before he took Chloe’s hand, which he held longer than necessary.  As he expressed his pleasure in meeting Chloe, his deep set, brown eyes glinted with a harshness that belied his smooth manners, making Chloe feel uncomfortable in his presence. 

When the Marchioness led them across the room to a settee where Sir Morley sat, Lady Sophia in a loud aside to Chloe said, “Can’t imagine why the Marquis would invite an upstart like that Frenchy.”

Inwardly, Chloe cringed and dared not glance over her shoulder at the Frenchman. “Please, Aunt Sophia, say no more,” she whispered and patted her aunt’s hand where it rested on her arm.  Before her aunt could reply, she added, “Oh, do see what Sir Morley has for you, a cup of hot tea.”

Sir Morley’s beckoning smile suggested he’d laced the brew, and Lady Sophia eagerly accepted the porcelain teacup with the Marquis’s crest on it.  After everyone was comfortably seated, the beautiful Judith Palmer swept through the double doors and glided straight to the fireplace and immediately struck up a conversation with Mr. Pearson.  The lovely blonde never left Pearson’s side, nor did she circulate among the other guests.   

A short while later, just as Chloe and Lady Milbanke had started to head up stairs to dress for dinner, a commotion announcing a new arrival commenced at the front door.  As Chloe glanced behind her, she saw Camden arriving, looking quite travel worn with his hair disheveled and his greatcoat covered in dust.  Camden must have realized that she was watching for he lifted his eyes to where she stood on the stairs and nodded his head in recognition.  Embarrassed at having been caught staring, Chloe quickly diverted her eyes and hurried up the stairs.

Later, the guests gathered before dinner in the drawing room.  After settling her aunt on a settee with Lady Reaves, Chloe noticed that the Viscount was absent, and apparently so did Mrs. Palmer.  Dressed in a shimmering silver gown that had a scandalously low neckline, the widow’s eyes kept darting to the door. She was finally rewarded when Camden entered and she immediately glided across the room to meet him and slipped her arm possessively through his. 

“I’m sorry I am so late,” said Camden, greeting his host as the Marquis met him at the door.  Except for the startling white of his cravat and the emerald stick pin, Camden dressed all in black, including his waistcoat.  He’d brushed his dark hair back from his forehead, and it curled at the nape of his neck.  His midnight blue eyes scanned the room, and when he saw Chloe, his gaze remained on her as he said, “Business detained me in London, and I could not get away before today.” 

Chloe understood the reason why the Viscount’s stare remained on her.  She knew the truth about where he was the previous night.  But she would never confront him with the lie and so submissively lowered her eyes and turned around to talk with Lady Milbanke.

At dinner, Chloe was seated between Mr. Pearson and Sir
Clarence.  Mostly ignoring her, both gentlemen spent much of the dinner talking to their other partners, Lady Sarah who was beside Sir Clarence and Judith Palmer by Pearson.  Fortunately, this suited Chloe’s mood.  She was intrigued by the Viscount’s late arrival and his dissembling of his whereabouts.  Remembering what the garrulous Amy Sansbury had said about Camden, Chloe wondered if the espionage rumors might hold some truth.  Certainly, her encounter with the Viscount at the Rose and Thistle Inn was enigmatic, and now he claimed to have been detained in London.  If the gossip was true, she pondered what possibly could have brought the Viscount to the wilds of Kent.

After dinner, the Marchioness led the ladies to the drawing room to allow the gentlemen their port and cigars.  Chloe sat with Lady Sophia and Lady Reaves and listened to the two dames trade the latest
on-dits
.   When the gentlemen rejoined the ladies, Sir Morley took a seat next to Lady Milbanke.  He smiled at Chloe and said, “My dear Miss Woodforde, you cannot be interested in the prosaic musings of sanctimonious fossils.  Do go and join the youngsters.”

Laughing at his caricature, Chloe rose and ventured toward Lady Sarah, Sir
Clarence and Lady Howard.  Passing the Viscount, their eyes briefly met.  His dark gaze seemed intense, and gave Chloe pause.  She assumed Camden was concerned that she might expose him and so gave him a reassuring smile.  Judith Palmer, who had her arm through Camden’s, had followed Camden’s line of vision and, pulling Camden closer to her side, venomously eyed Chloe. 

“Oh Miss Woodforde,” Lady Sarah said as Chloe drew nearer, “do say you ride.  I would love sharing time with you and becoming better acquainted.” 

“I do ride, Lady Sarah,” Chloe answered, “but not very well.  I fear I would be poor company on a horse.”

“Never say so,” said Lady Sarah, taking hold of Chloe’s hand and slewing a glance at Sir
Clarence.  “I am quite sure we can find you a gentle mount to your liking.”

Feeling the young woman squeeze her hand, Chloe began to understand Lady Sarah’s insistence for Chloe to join her riding.  “In that case, Lady Sarah, you have only to let me know when you wish to ride.  I will be happy to join you.”

While no definite plans were made, Lady Sarah gratefully promised Chloe she’d give plenty of warning.

With no card tables set up, Lady Milbanke’s interests flagged, and soon she asked Chloe to help her upstairs.  For her part, Chloe was more than happy to retire early.  Seldom had she encountered a more cliquish and antagonistic group of individuals.

Depositing the baroness with Hannah, Chloe asked for Lady Caro’s leash.  But Hannah protested.  “Not again, Miss Chloe, you need to let a footman take that spoiled animal out.”

“Perhaps, but I plan to take advantage of the fact we are in the country and can enjoy the night air.  I’ll just be a little while.” Chloe grabbed the leash, scooped up the dancing Yorky, and moments later breathed a sigh of contentment as she slowed her pace to stroll among the Court
’s rear gardens.  

The crisp breeze ruffled the foliage,
and Chloe pulled her shawl over her shoulders to ward off the chill.  With a sky full of stars, a half moon bathed the landscape in varying shades of silver.  Letting Lady Caro run loose, Chloe followed the small dog’s meandering path through the gardens toward the high hedges behind which was a small meadow before the impenetrable wall of the dark woods.  

~~~~~

It took some doing, but pleading the need to retire early after his sojourn from London, Camden finally shook himself free of Judith.  The widow’s possessiveness was presenting a problem.  He’d be late for his meeting with Raikes.  

Quickly traversing the long hallway, Camden made for the salon that made up the rear of the Court and overlooked the gardens.  Unlatching one of the French doors, he closed it softly behind him before making his way through the gardens.  As he headed for the woods, he thought again of Lady Milbanke’s young companion, Miss Chloe Woodforde.  She was pretty enough with a curvaceous figure, honey gold hair, and pert nose.

BOOK: The Poor Relation
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