Always Come Home (Emerson 1) (3 page)

Then the remarkable chit curtsied – to a portrait! –
and moved on to the next one.

“Your lordship, I regret to inform you that your
great-great-great-whatever-granddaughter Angelique is a wretched excuse for a
lady, with the musical skills of a deaf elephant. I once witnessed her beating
her maid with a hanger for not ironing her gown to perfection. Had I not
interceded, the poor maid might have sustained serious injury. As it was, I
almost fainted from the effort to restrain myself from boxing Angelique’s ears.
She will, I fear, become with child if she continues to flirt with gentlemen
with whom she has no business conversing. Though, in this case, it is not her
fault as much as Lord Clayton’s for inviting such men into his home. All of
whom are drunkards. None of whom has a full-sized brain amongst them. As for
Lord Clayton…”

In his gleeful effort to overhear more, Colin bumped
into a chair, which screeched on the floor. Unfortunately, that brought the
woman’s delightful recitation to a halt.

“Who is there?” she asked.

“Please forgive me,” said Colin as he stepped into
the light. “And pray do not let me interrupt you. I believe you were just
getting to Clayton and I am all agog as to what you will say next.”

Damnation!
Ava could not believe she’d been caught behaving in such an inappropriate
manner, especially in front of one of Lord Clayton’s guests. Hopefully, he was
drunk enough that he would forget the entire matter.

It was a fair wager that he was, since his
lordship’s guests spent little of the day sober.

He must be a new arrival for she would have remembered
seeing him. He was sinfully handsome with his wavy black hair that was
slightly too long and eyes so dark they could be black, as well.

As much as she might like to stare at the man in
different circumstances, it was always dangerous to be cornered by his
lordship’s guests anywhere in the house, and especially in such an isolated
hallway.

“If you will excuse me, sir, I should be going,” she
said.

“You cannot seriously mean to deprive me of hearing
what you were going to say about Clayton.”

“It was wrong of me to speak disparagingly about my
charges, sir. I certainly shan’t exacerbate the matter by speaking ill of Lord
Clayton.”

“Not even a little bit? What if I started? I have
always marveled at the way he tries to stand in such a way as to give himself
greater height. Surely you have noticed. Now that I have said it first, it
would do no harm in discussing it further with his ancestors.”

“I shall not say anything of the sort, sir.” Though
Lord Clayton’s awkward pose had not gone unnoticed by her. He also had a habit
of standing near his shorter friends in an effort to appear taller. A failed effort.

“All right, what about the fact he has almost no
knowledge of basic geography? When we were at school, he once placed the Andes
Mountains somewhere in the Congo.”

Ava could not prevent the snort – the snort! – of
laughter that escaped.

The man laughed outright. “So you have noticed
that.”

Ava schooled her features in what she hoped was a
proper, governess-like way. “I shan’t discuss Lord Clayton with you.”

“But I have a feeling you would not place the Andes
in the Congo.”

“Of course not. But one’s lack of knowledge of
basic geography does not excuse gossip of any sort.”

“Where have you travelled?” The sinfully handsome
man was looking at her with head tilted.

“What makes you think I have?”

“The way you said ‘of course not,’ as though only an
imbecile would make such an error. An imbecile named Lord Clayton, but that is
neither here nor there. Where have you been?”

“I really should get back to my charges.”

“You’re the governess to Clayton’s sister?”

“Sisters. Twins.”

“I am sure they’re delightful. Where have you
travelled, Miss….”

“We have not been properly introduced, sir.”

“You have a lot of rules. No gossip, no giving me
your name without the benefit of a proper introduction.” He pointed to a
portrait of a lady from the last century dressed for court. “Perhaps her
ladyship could introduce us.”

Ava gave in to a bit of laughter. “Very well, I am
Miss Ava Conway.” She curtsied.

“It is a great pleasure to meet you, Miss Conway. I
am Colin Emerson. Ridgeway, for my sins.”

“You’re the earl Lord Clayton found in town?” she
asked.
Oh, dear.
Angelique would take one look at this handsome man
and do whatever it took to be his countess.

“I don’t generally define myself in terms of how
Clayton finds me, but yes. I just arrived today.”

“And when, Lord Ridgeway, do you plan to depart?”

*

This was becoming more and more
interesting by the moment
. Colin had been enchanted by her
conversation with the portraits and even more intrigued by her attempts to be a
prim governess when it was obvious she was a warm, intelligent,
more-than-passably attractive woman. It was hard to tell just what she looked
like, what with the dim light and the buttoned-up dress.

What’s more, he could tell she agreed with his assessment
of Clayton, though she’d been too well-mannered to say so. But once she’d
learned he was an earl, it seemed her whole demeanor had changed. She’d become
even more distant. And if he wasn’t mistaken, she wasn’t just inquiring about
his departure as polite conversation. It appeared she wanted him to leave.

Women didn’t often have that reaction to him.

“I have not decided when I shall go, though it will
be sooner rather than later. I was on my way to my estate for Christmas when
my travel plans were disrupted. I would like to resume the journey soon.”

“It might be wise to depart first thing on the
morrow.”

Now his curiosity was truly piqued. “Is there a
reason you wish to be rid of me so soon, Miss Conway? Usually someone must
know me longer to want me to leave quite this much.”

It was hard to tell in the dim light, but it
appeared Miss Conway blushed. “I do not mean to be rude, sir. However, might
I be frank?”

“Given what I observed earlier with the portraits,
there is every indication to think so, yes.”

“Lord Clayton’s sisters are but sixteen years old.
And while some do marry so young, I do not think it would be in either of the
girls’ best interest and especially not in yours to wed at this time. I believe
Lady Angelique and Lady Anastasia require some time to, uh, reach their fullest
potential.”

Perhaps Colin had misjudged Miss Conway. Mayhap she
was an escaped Bedlamite. After all, she had been talking to portraits. “I
was not aware that I am betrothed to either of the twins.”

“And it would be best if you do not become so. Not
that there is anything wrong with them, of course,” she quickly added.

“Of course. I was especially impressed by the fact
they both beat their servants, which is a trait often wished for in a wife.
Miss Conway, I have no desire to wed either of the girls. I have not even met
them, but trust the opinions you expressed so delightfully earlier.
Furthermore, I would not care to ally myself with Clayton. I know that is ungracious
of me since he is providing my valet and me with food and shelter. But we did
not care for each other in school and I daresay we would not like each other
all that much as adults. However, what I would like to know is what gives you
the notion that I would court either of his sisters?”

Her relief was palpable, but it was quickly replaced
by something else that looked like discomfort.

“I have said too much already, my lord. I should
go.”

“I would rather you did not. Why are you ill at
ease, Miss Conway? Unless….” He straightened. “Are you concerned for your
safety? We are alone in a secluded area of the manor and I know the type of
men Clayton associates with. You would be well served to never be alone with
any of them. But I give you my word – I would never harm any woman. I will
escort you anywhere you wish to go. However, I am most curious as to why you
thought I would be interested in either of the girls.”

She looked genuinely sheepish and he almost told her
she didn’t need to reveal the reason.

He almost told her, but did not.

She sighed. “The girls were discussing you. They’d
heard Lord Clayton had brought you home and they thought you might be looking
for a wife.”

Now it made sense. “You mean, they know I’m almost
at
point non plus
and must marry a fortune or risk my sisters’ future,
as well as my own?”

“Yes. I believe Lady Angelique in particular would
like to be a countess.”

“Refresh my memory, if you please. Is she the one likely
to end up with child, according to your earlier speech?”

Miss Conway’s lovely eyes widened.

“Fear not, Miss Conway. I only wish to know what
I’m up against. I would hope that no matter how desperate I become for a wife,
that I would not sink to marrying a chit still in the schoolroom. The twins
are but children themselves.”

“I believe no one would mistake either of the girls
for children, Lord Ridgeway. They know how to dress to look older than their
years.”

“Then I thank you for warning me about them. Though
I will, of course, keep that to myself. You may put your mind at ease, Miss
Conway. I am in need of a rich wife, but will not go angling about for one
here. I still plan to be on my way on the morrow if at all possible.”

“Thank goodness.”

“A less self-assured man could take that as an
insult, Miss Conway.”

“Forgive me. Though I have a feeling you are
self-assured enough to not be offended.”

That made him grin. “Touché, Miss Conway. Now, may
I escort you back to the main hall? I fear my wit is no match for yours. Say
farewell to your friends.” He indicated the portraits.

Then the saucy minx dipped another curtsy to Clayton’s
ancestors and left with Colin.

*

Having dressed Lord Ridgeway and assured him he
could get through the evening without murdering their host, Stemple arrived in
the kitchen to find all the other servants were already eating.

They had set a place for him at the end of the
table.

The butler, Ferguson, looked at him disapprovingly
from his seat at the opposite end. “You’re Lord Ridgeway’s man?”

“Yes, Mr. Ferguson.”

“I understand his lordship has his pockets to let,”
said Ferguson.

That made the others at the table look up from their
meal.

“I do not gossip about my master,” said Stemple.

“That’s not exactly a denial now, is it?” said the
housekeeper.

“It is not a confirmation, either,” said Stemple.
“I do not talk about my master. And it is no one’s business what his state of
affairs is.”

“I guess we won’t be getting vales from his
lordship,” said one of the maids.

“I will do for his lordship,” said Stemple. “None
of you will have to do any work for him.”

“Other than laundering his sheets, lighting his fire
and emptying his slop bucket, you mean?” asked the same maid. “That sounds
like work to me.”

“I will gladly do all of that if it will put an end
to this conversation.”

“It’s obvious his lordship is up the River Tick,”
said a footman. “He can’t even hire a proper valet. Don’t walk the halls
tonight mates, you might run into this bloke and scare yourself to death.”

Stemple’s only response was to look at the man.

“That’s enough,” said Ferguson. “It’s no use
putting anyone off their food.”

“Then maybe he shouldn’t eat with us,” said a maid.

“Perhaps, he shouldn’t,” said the housekeeper. “You
can eat your meal in the pot room, Mr. Stemple. Someone will bring you your
supper.”

Stemple remained there for a moment more, looking at
those around him.

The housekeeper had the grace to look away, but added,
“Go along now.”

Stemple left the room not bothering to look
offended. He was used to this treatment. He’d been receiving it – and worse –
since returning from the war. It was one of the reasons he looked forward to
travelling to Lord Ridgeway’s estate. It would be better in the country. You
didn’t encounter as many people there. He could find a quiet corner of the
estate and work the land. Or he could work in the stables. He liked animals
and they didn’t seem to mind him. He’d had a dog, Max, when he lived with his
parents. Max had been a great source of comfort in the months when he’d been recovering
from the worst of his burns.

In the early days, his mother and sisters could not
look at him without crying. His father’s attempts to be brave were even harder
to bear. But Max had been there every step of the way. Sitting on his lap,
staying by his side. Licking his hand and even crying with him during the
worst of the pain.

It had broken Stemple’s heart to leave home. He
knew he would miss his parents, though the only way to save their business had
been to leave since his presence had kept customers away. But it had almost killed
him to leave Max. However, he could not afford to keep a pet. He could barely
afford to survive as it was.

He found the small table in the pot room and waited
for his supper. He was thankful to have a hot meal and he once again thanked
the good Lord above for leading him to Lord Ridgeway. Of course, his lordship
had problems of his own. But he’d provided Stemple with the one thing he
hadn’t had in a long time: hope.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I gave you a bit
of everything.”

Stemple looked up to find a woman in her early
twenties standing before him, holding two plates. She had dark blonde hair
pulled back under her cap and hazel eyes. She looked to be a cook’s
assistant. And she was smiling at him. He angled himself so the scarred part
of his face was away from her.

Then he remembered his manners and stood. “Thank
you, Miss...?”