The Yuletide Countess: Harriet's Traditional Regency Romance (7 page)

Dearest
Pippa,

I know it
has been some time since my last letter; I have been so busy that I’ve had
hardly a moment for myself. I am sure that you are surprised that my letters
from Scotland are so long and full of stories of parties and picnics, as, in
the past, I believe I have told you mostly of reading and solitary walks. But
my acquaintance with Miss Dalburn and Glencairn’s children has led me to spend
hardly a moment at Dargenwater Cottage.

On most
days I take the carriage to the castle (I often find it difficult to believe
that I am truly visiting a castle!), or walk, if I am feeling strong and the
weather is good, and I help Lady Sophia with her painting, or I discuss the
things she will need to know when she makes her debut. She is a sweet girl, but
sadly lacking in sophistication, as she has been much loved and sheltered by
her father. Thus, she has no idea at all of the difficulties that she may
encounter. I do not wish to frighten her, for a young woman’s debut should be a
pleasant time, but she must have a firm grip on the intricacies of London
Society. And so we discuss the great families of England and how to speak to a
peer, and to a gentleman, and to a servant, so that her manners will be thought
pleasing, and all of the minutiae of tonnish behavior. In this way she will
know how to get on the world, and, in the meantime, Miss Dalburn has more time
to spend with Douglas and his schoolbooks. I think the poor boy is a bit
envious of his sister, as it appears to him that she is playing while he works,
but you and I know, Pippa dear, that a man, and the heir to an earldom, will be
given much more leeway than his sister, who looks to make a good marriage!
Despite her father’s wealth and reputation, it is always possible to go astray.
Only think of poor Caro Lamb, who threw away her entire reputation over that
ridiculous poet! I allow that he is handsome, but to discard a husband such as
William Lamb is outside the realm of good sense!

We also
take advantage of the lovely summer days and stroll in the gardens and watch
the folly take shape. I think it is a delightful building, and while I cannot
appreciate all the fine details that Miss Paley explains to me, I do know that
Lord Glencairn and his descendants will take great delight in it. It is
wonderful to see Miss Paley and Lord Francis consulting with one another;
indeed I think that she spends far more time on it than is necessary, and that
she takes great pleasure in his company. Lord G and I are very pleased that our
little plan seems to be working so well, and I have great hopes of an eventual
engagement between the two.

As for me
and my hopes, dearest sister—I do find myself thrown into Lord G’s company a
great deal. I know he loves his children and wishes to see them, but I do
cherish a hope that my presence is one of the reasons he comes to the
schoolroom or to the garden so often. Miss Dalburn assures me that he was not
nearly so regular a visitor before I started to come to the castle each day,
and he does seem to listen attentively to my advice. I tell you, and you only,
that I find myself more and more charmed by Lord G; at first I thought him a
pleasant man, but of late I have found stronger emotions stirring in my breast.
It is very odd indeed, but I do not think that the word love is too strong for
what I feel. I can only hope that some slight reflection of my emotions is also
growing within Lord G!

And now, my
dear, I will end this letter as I must leave soon for the castle. I have
promised Miss Dalburn that I will be there by twelve-o-clock. Hug your precious
children for me!

Affectionately,

Harriet

Harriet stood
in the garden at Glencairn, her easel in front of her, and her watercolors at
her side. She frowned slightly at the painting she was working on; it was of
the castle itself, and while it was a fair representation of that noble
building, she felt that somehow it failed to capture its essential charm.
Perhaps she had become too fond of the place to be able to view it simply as
another picturesque structure.

“Miss Walcott,
do please help me,” said Sophy.

Harriet turned
to her young friend. “What is it, my dear?”

“I cannot mix
these colors correctly. I wish to produce the shade of green of the trees, and
I cannot seem to do it.”

Harriet moved
to her side and gazed at the painting. “You need a touch more yellow, child,”
she said. “Here, let me show you.” She took Sophy’s brush and dabbed at the
yellow paint, mixing more of it into the blue on the palette.

“Thank you!”
said Sophy. “That is perfect. I do feel lucky that you are here to help me,
Miss Walcott.”

“It is I who
am lucky, my dear. I have enjoyed my days here with you, your brother, and Miss
Dalburn a great deal.”

“And Papa,”
said Sophy.

“What? Oh yes,
and your father, to be sure. He has been very kind to me as well.”

“He says very
complimentary things about you,” said Sophy guilelessly.

Harriet firmly
squashed her immediate desire to plumb the girl for information. “Does he
indeed?” she asked. “How kind of him. I’m glad to have the esteem of such a
pleasant gentleman.”

“He is very
happy that you are helping me to learn the ways of Society,” said Sophy.

Harriet felt a
slight chill of disappointment and firmly banished it. “It has been a great
pleasure to me as well,” she said. She set her brush down. “I must be going, my
dear. I need to discuss with Cook the meals for the next week at Dargenwater
Cottage, and she will be very annoyed if I am not along before she must begin to
prepare dinner.”

“What a pity,”
said Sophy. But she began to obediently pack up her paints, and Harriet did so
as well. She gestured to a footman, who promptly carried their easels and other
materials into the castle. Sophy and Harriet strolled behind him, and entered
the building, pausing in the main hall.

“Will you
visit me again tomorrow?” asked Sophy.

“I would love
to, my dear,” said Harriet. “We need to finish our paintings, and I know that
Douglas means to join us as well. I will be here in the morning.”

Lord Glencairn
strode into the hall at that moment, in a well cut black wool riding coat,
buckskin breeches that showed off his still-muscular thighs, and riding boots.
He looked strong and rugged, yet his well-fitting clothes were clearly those of
a gentleman, and Harriet’s heart skipped a beat when she saw him. He was a very
fine figure of a man, she reflected.

“What, Miss
Walcott, are you leaving us so soon?” he asked. “I thought you might join us
for a cup of tea.”

“Duty calls at
Dargenwater Cottage,” she said regretfully. “Some small household matters need
to be attended to, and if they are neglected, larger problems will surely
occur.”

“A sensible
observation, Miss Walcott,” said his lordship. He gave her a searching look,
and Harriet felt a moment of relief that her bonnet and pelisse were really
quite dashing, and her dress was of the finest muslin. It was fortunate that
Isobel had always insisted that Harriet be dressed in the first stare of
fashion. While she had never worried much about her clothing, her wardrobe had
no doubt gone far to convincing Lord Glencairn that she indeed knew her way
about the London scene.

“Thank you,”
she murmured.

“Did you walk
today Miss Walcott?” he asked.

“I did indeed.
The weather was too lovely not to enjoy it, and the path between the castle and
Dargenwater Cottage is so beautiful that it seemed a pity not to enjoy it.”

“Then will you
allow me to escort you home?” he asked.

“Oh! Yes, of
course, I would enjoy some company. The scenery will only be enhanced by
pleasant conversation.”

“Then by all
means let us enjoy the scenery and a conversation!” said the earl.

He picked up
his hat from a nearby table, and a footman leapt to open the door. Harriet said
her good-byes to Sophy, promising once again to return the next day, and then
she took Lord Glencairn’s arm and he led her out of the castle and down the
broad steps. They walked a few moments in comfortable silence, each enjoying
the play of sunlight on the trees and the gentle breeze. As they reached the
little path that led to Dargenwater Cottage, Lord Glencairn turned to Harriet
with a smile.

“I believe I
must thank you yet again for your kindness to my little Sophy,” he said. “Just
in the few weeks you have been coming to visit, she has seemed to grow from a
little girl into a young woman.”

“I thank you,
though you are doubtless overestimating my influence,” said Harriet. “She is a
very intelligent girl, and while I have assisted in some small way, she does
not need much guidance. She has a natural good sense that no doubt comes from
her father.”

“You flatter
me, Miss Walcott,” said Glencairn, but a pleased look played over his face.
“She does remind me at times of my mother, who was much sought after in her
day, and was also famous for her common sense and intelligence.”

“I have seen
your mother’s portrait in the Long Gallery at the castle,” said Harriet. “She
was very beautiful, and Sophy seems to be proud of her.”

“I was
fortunate that my parents were fond of one another, and also were affectionate
toward my sister and myself,” said his lordship. “I have done my best to
emulate them.”

“You are the
very best of fathers,” Harriet responded. “Sophy and Douglas speak of you
often, and with great affection.”

“Do they?”
asked the earl. “I am touched.”

“They do indeed,”
Harriet assured him.

They walked
some steps further, and then Harriet glanced up at him. His face was relaxed,
and she admired the fierce blue of his eyes and his white hair swept back from
his brow. Lord Francis was perhaps the image of Adonis, but Lord Glencairn made
her think of Zeus, king of the gods.

“How is the
work on the folly coming?” she asked. “I have not visited it these past days,
as Sophy and I have been busy with our painting.”

“It is
proceeding apace,” he responded. “I believe it will only be a week or two more
until it is complete, with only a few touches to be added. I am hoping that
Lord Francis’ project with Miss Paley may be coming to fruition as well.”

Harriet
laughed. “That is my fondest wish as well! Every evening I think to hear the
good news from her, but while she speaks of him often, there is no word of a
proposal.”

“Lord Francis
plays his cards close to his chest,” said the earl. “But I think we do not have
many days more to wait.”

“I hope Isobel
does not ruin her chance at happiness,” fretted Harriet. “She can be so
stubborn that at times I would like to shake her. But then, in the next minute,
she is all that is kind and charming, so one truly cannot hold that against
her.”

The truth of
this remark was so clear, that Glencairn had no immediate answer, and for a few
minutes they walked on in silent harmony, enjoying the afternoon sunshine and
the beauty of the countryside.

Harriet and
Glencairn were almost halfway to the cottage, when they passed the entrance to
a dell opening off the side of the path, with a screen of trees lightly
shielding it. Lord Glencairn glanced to his side, and then he reached across to
lightly clasp Harriet’s hand where it rested on his arm. She looked up,
surprised, and he nodded in the direction of the trees. Harriet looked over,
and saw two people at some distance, sitting on a rustic bench and clearly
wrapped in an embrace. After a moment, her eyes widened as she recognized the
auburn of Isobel’s hair and the gold of Lord Francis’.

“Oh my,” she
murmured.

“Oh my
indeed,” said Lord Glencairn in a low voice. “Our wishes may very soon come
true, Miss Walcott. But we must not let them know that we see them.”

“Indeed not.
We must look ahead, and pretend that we do not know they are there.” She
averted her gaze, and then raised her voice. “And then my cousin, Selina
Badgely, told me that under no circumstances would she ever marry, as she meant
to be a support to her mother in her old age. Which I told her was a foolish
choice, for she could always aid my aunt while still having a husband and a
home, but then, she was always headstrong, was dear Selina.”

“How
fascinating, Miss Walcott,” replied Lord Glencairn.

They moved
along as quickly as they dared, and when they passed a bend in the road that
shielded the dell from their view, Harriet broke into a gurgle of laughter.

“Do you think
they knew we were there? They seemed much occupied with each other.”

Lord Glencairn
watched her amusement with pleasure. “I have no idea if we disturbed their communion,”
he answered. “But I do think that, if we did, they believe we did not see them.
I have high hopes for an interesting announcement tomorrow!”

“A wedding
would be so lovely,” said Harriet. “Only fancy, perhaps they will have it here
in Scotland, where they have fallen in love.”

“Glencairn
Castle has not hosted a wedding in many years. I would be more than happy to
offer it to Lord Francis and Miss Paley.”

“Oh, that
would be delightful. The gardens are so beautiful just now, and I could think
of no more beautiful and serene a place to honeymoon,” enthused Harriet.

Their steps
had led them to the door of Dargenwater Cottage, and Harriet reluctantly
removed her hand from Lord Glencairn’s arm.

“Thank you for
escorting me home,” she said. “It made a lovely stroll even more pleasurable.”

“On the
contrary, Miss Walcott, the pleasure was mine,” said the earl. “My
conversations with you invariably brighten my day.”

Harriet
flushed slightly. “What a pretty compliment, my lord.”

“You deserve
many more of them, Miss Walcott.” Glencairn hesitated. “Indeed, I may be able
to offer you a few more if you would take a turn in the garden with me.”

“That would be
delightful, though you must be aware that the gardens of Dargenwater Cottage
pale in comparison to the wonders of those at Glencairn,” she said.

“Any garden at
all would be enjoyable in your presence, Miss Walcott,” said his lordship
gallantly.

“What a pretty
sentiment,” smiled Harriet. “I would be pleased to share them with you. And
perhaps you could give me some advice on our roses! They do not flourish as
yours do.”

“I will do my
best,” said the earl.

The pair
turned their steps toward the tiny garden behind the cottage, and conversation
flowed easily between them for some minutes as they discussed the relative
merits of different types of roses. But after some time they were interrupted
by the approach of a manservant, a concerned look on his face.

“Miss Walcott,
please come at once,” he said. “Miss Paley is injured.”

Harriet turned
to him, alarmed. “Injured? In what way?” she demanded.

“Lord Francis
said it was her ankle,” said the servant. “Perhaps it is sprained—I could not
tell.”

“Oh, gracious.
And Lord Francis is here as well,” she said.

“He carried
her through the door in his arms,” offered the servant.

“My goodness,”
said Harriet, hoping, despite her alarm, that the couple would yet have good
news for her. If Lord Francis was carrying Isobel, it must mean that she had no
objection to being close to him. Indeed, Harriet had witnessed her lack of
objection to Lord Francis only a short time before. “I will come right away.
Bring cold water and bandages to the sitting room.”

With that she
hurried away, Lord Glencairn following in her wake, and moments later bustled
into sitting room, to find Isobel resting on the settee, her cheeks flushed,
while Lord Francis stood by the fireplace, a cool expression on his face.
Harriet glanced from one to the other and did not like what she saw. They did
not appear to be a couple on the verge of announcing their nuptials.

“Oh my dear,
how shocking that you should have sprained your ankle,” she said, wringing her
hands. “Is it very painful? I recall that when my brother Alexander was only
seven he twisted his ankle very badly, and my father would have it that he
exaggerated the pain, and then only fancy, we found out that it was broken.
Poor little fellow, how he did shriek to be sure when they set it.”

“He certainly
has all my sympathy,” Lord Francis attempted to interject with a smile.

Harriet gave
Isobel a sharp glance, and noted the hint of annoyance in her eyes. Something
had transpired since that embrace in the woods, and while Harriet was sure she
would never be told what it was, she likewise felt sure that a letter Isobel
had recently received from Lady Morgan was somehow involved.

“I knew that
it would be thus when you left,” she scolded. “After I saw what a taking that
letter from dear Letitia had you in, I said to myself that no good would come
of it when the servants informed me that you had gone off on your own. You are
too impetuous by half, Isobel. I have no doubt that you were reading her letter
and brooding over Alfred's vices as you walked, and that is why you tripped and
injured the ankle.”

Harriet drew
breath and looked about her, but for once, neither Isobel nor Francis leaped
into the conversational breach to stem the tide of her words. She steeled
herself and continued.

“Had you only
more wit than hair, Isobel, you would do as I and confine your exercise to
healthful turns in the gardens with the arm of a gallant gentleman such as Lord
Glencairn to ensure that you do not trip over a stone,” Harriet continued,
waving at the earl, who had entered the room with her.

At the mention
of Letitia's name, and the comments with which Harriet followed it, Lord
Francis had stiffened, and though he now lounged seemingly casually near the
mantel, he directed a hard stare at Isobel. She blushed under his scrutiny and
turned away. Harriet observed all this, and directed a glance of anguish at
Lord Glencairn.

“Have you and
Lord Glencairn been walking in the gardens of Dargenwater Cottage then?” Isobel
asked in an attempt to cover her confusion. “I wonder that either of you can
support their dullness after the charms of Glencairn's grounds.”

In the sea of
words with which Harriet assured her of the pleasantness with which she and his
lordship had whiled away their time, Isobel was able to regain her composure,
and it was with tolerable ease that she bid farewell to Lord Francis and the
Earl when they took their leave a few moments later. Harriet accompanied them
into the hall.

“I must thank
you, Lord Francis, for tending to Miss Paley,” she said. “She was very
fortunate that you were there to assist her.”

“It will
always be my pleasure to assist Miss Paley,” said Lord Francis, though his
voice was a bit distant.

Harriet gave
him a sympathetic look. “You have been more than kind to her, Lord Francis, and
need have no doubts as to your behavior,” she said. Lord Francis gave her a
weary smile.

Lord Glencairn
took her hand and bowed over it politely. “Will I see you tomorrow?” he asked.
“Or will you be tending to Miss Paley?”

“I promised
Sophy I would be there in the late morning, and I see no reason my plans should
change” said Harriet. “We have our watercolors to finish, and if Isobel cannot
visit her excavations, she will doubtless be content with reading a book on
Roman antiquities.”

“Then I will
look forward to seeing you.” Lord Glencairn patted her hand gently, and he and
Lord Francis departed, setting out along the path to Glencairn Castle.

Harriet wished
for a moment that she might know what they were discussing, then returned to
the sitting room, to find Isobel on the settee, her face a picture of misery.
Water and bandages had been brought, and Harriet carefully removed Isobel’s
half boot and washed and began to bandage her ankle.

“I don’t
believe it to be anything more serious than a sprain, my dear, though we should
of course send for Dr. McIntyre. In no time at all you will be up and about,
and able to take care of your excavations and the folly again,” she said
soothingly.

Isobel looked
away. “I think that my involvement with the folly is at an end,” she said
softly.

“How so?”
asked Harriet. “It would not do to abandon Lord Glencairn now, while he has
need of you.”

“Lord
Francis—Lord Francis and I—well, it will not do,” said Isobel.

Harriet sat
back and gave her a stern look. “I have done my best not to become involved in
your affairs, Isobel dear. But whatever has passed between you and Lord
Francis, I cannot believe that either of you has done something so
reprehensible that you cannot be civil to one another. It is the hallmark of
good breeding, to be respectful to others even if you disagree with them, and I
expect nothing less of you.”

Isobel looked
faintly annoyed, and then reached out and gave Harriet a hug. “You are right,
Cousin. I am perhaps not happy with Lord Francis, but he has done nothing to
make me think he is not a gentleman. Indeed, he was helpful to me this
afternoon when he did not need to be, and I should not forget that.”

Harriet nodded
briskly. “I only hope you have not made a very great mistake, child.”

Isobel gazed
off into the distance. “I hope so too, Harriet,” she said.

Harriet had to
be content with that utterance, for Isobel said no more of her feelings about
Lord Francis. Within a few hours Isobel was hobbling about the cottage, and Dr.
McIntyre visited, declaring that, while her ankle was likely to bother her for
some days, it would heal well and swiftly. The evening was spent companionably,
but little conversation was exchanged, as Isobel seemed to be wrapped in her
own thoughts. Eventually Harriet retired to her room, sorely disappointed.