Fenella J. Miller (2 page)

Elizabeth had not taken more than a few steps up the drive when an unfamiliar shape loomed through the snow. This wasn’t the driver, for she would recognize
his
outline anywhere.

“Here, miss, let me carry that for you. Sir James wanted to come himself but I can’t handle the ribbons, so I came instead.” The shape bowed and held out his hand for the basket. “Duncan, is my name, valet to Sir James Worthington.”

She didn’t argue. Despite her avowal she was unharmed by her fall she was feeling decidedly peculiar. No doubt, a combination of shock and a nasty head cold was the cause of this. “I thank you, Mr. Duncan, I should be most grateful for your assistance. I don’t feel at all the thing; the sooner I get inside in the warm, the better I shall be.”

Her throat was too raw to speak further; she must conserve her strength for the long walk down the drive. Halfway along she stumbled to her knees, her head swam and her eyes were blurred. Was she imagining a second figure striding towards her?

“Allow me to assist you, my dear. Good grief! You’re burning up. What could have possessed you to go out into the snow with a fever?”

Without a by your leave he snatched her up and swirled his driving cape around her. She was too unwell to protest, so she settled back in his arms with a sigh of relief. Inside the folds of his coat, she was warm and safe. His heart thumped beneath her ear. He was so strong. What a pity he was such an objectionable gentleman.

By the time they arrived at the Hall she was all but asleep, lulled by his rhythmic strides and the warmth of his body pressed so close to hers. From a distance, she heard strident voices, cries and protests, but she kept her eyes closed and held on to his waistcoat tightly. Somehow she knew he would protect her from harm.

Lady Hartford and her twin daughters were waiting in the vestibule. One would have thought they would have been concerned for the poor girl he carried in his arms but their protests and cries were because he’d had to bother himself in this way.

“Sir James, why are you carrying this person?” Lady Hartford gesticulated to a waiting footman. “Here, take her to her room; she has caused more than enough trouble for one morning.”

Reluctantly, James handed over his burden. He would not have done so if the young man hadn’t looked so stricken. Whatever the Hartfords thought about the young lady, she was obviously well-liked by the staff.

“I’ll see she is taken care of, sir, you can hand her to me.” The footman’s words were too soft for his mistress to overhear.

“See that you do. Come and tell me how she does later.”

“Sir James, you are covered in snow. See, it’s melting all over the floor. Should you not go upstairs at once and change into something dry? I do not wish you to catch a putrid fever.”

He turned to the girl who had spoken, smiling down at his disarray. “I see that you’re observant, Lady Eleanor, I shall go at once to my chambers if someone could direct me there.”

She nodded but said nothing further. A short, thin woman with scraped back grey hair came forward, her navy bombazine rustling. She curtsied politely. “Sir James, welcome to Hartford Hall. I shall conduct you to your apartment. I’m Blake, housekeeper here.”

“Thank you, I shall be glad to get into something dry.” On the bottom step of the grand staircase, he belatedly remembered the basket Duncan had been carrying. “Lady Hartford, when I almost ran the young lady down in the lane her basket spilled. My man has taken the items round to the kitchen. I shall make good any discrepancies. Please do not lay any blame on the young lady, the incident was not her fault.”

Instead of being concerned by his narration, the woman pursed her lips and exchanged an angry glance with her daughters. “Miss Baverstock, a very distant relation of ours, lives here on the generosity of my husband. Therefore, she is more than willing to run errands for us and help out in any way that she can. However, I must assure you, Sir James, she is
not
part of the family. You will not be obliged to sit with her at dinner or dance with her at the Christmas ball.”

A wave of anger almost made him speak harshly. He forced his mouth to smile. “If you will excuse me, my lady, Lady Amelia, Lady Eleanor, I shall see you later this afternoon.”

He followed the housekeeper along a spacious passageway. “Where does Miss Baverstock have her apartment, Blake?”

The lady glanced over her shoulder as if concerned she might be overheard. “She doesn’t sleep down here, sir, she lives in the nursery. Don’t worry about her well-being, I’ll make sure she’s nursed back to health. It breaks your heart — ” She stopped and flushed painfully. “I beg your pardon, Sir James, I was speaking out of turn.”

He nodded and no more was said. Duncan was awaiting him. Hot water had been fetched and fresh garments laid out in the commodious dressing room. James knew his man would soon discover what the housekeeper hadn’t told him about Miss Baverstock’s position in the family.

As he washed off the grime from his journey he thanked God Eleanor was not of the same ilk as her sister and mother. Why had his beloved never mentioned having a distant cousin living with them, especially as she must be about the same age?

“T
HERE
Y
OU
A
RE
, Miss Baverstock, you’ll feel more the thing when you drink the tisane that Cook has prepared for you. It will ease your sore throat and help you sleep.”

Elizabeth accepted the hot drink gratefully. “Thank you, Mrs. Blake, you are all so kind to me and I don’t deserve it.”

“That you do, my dear, we’ve watched you grow up. It’s criminal how you’re being treated now when this has been you’re home since you were in leading strings.”

This was a familiar topic of conversation and one with no future in it. “Mrs. Blake, I beg you not to keep reminding me how things were. I must be thankful I have a roof over my head. Poor Grandfather was taken so suddenly he had no time to arrange a settlement for me. I must make the best of things, at least I’m still living in the house I love so much.”

Mrs. Blake snorted but said nothing further on the subject. “That young man who carried you home is most concerned about your welfare. George is to tell him how you fare.”

“I’ve finished, Mrs. Blake, thank you. There’s a good fire in the grate and with the curtains drawn I shall be perfectly snug. Please do not trouble yourself to be running up and down after me, I have a jug of lemonade and that is all I require at the moment.”

The housekeeper bustled off and Elizabeth settled down in her narrow bed. Lady Hartford had refused to allow her to exchange it for something bigger. This was meant for a child and her long limbs were difficult to organise comfortably. If two of the footman had not moved the bed against the wall, no doubt she would frequently fall out onto the boards.

In spite of the sparseness of her accommodation, she was content up here away from the constant criticisms and sharp reminders she was no more than a drain on their resources. Occasionally Eleanor crept up to be with her but she was too afraid of her mother and sister to risk being discovered where she ought not to be. However, knowing not all the family hated her was a great comfort in the dark hours of the night.

As she was drifting off to sleep, something Eleanor had told her when she had returned from Town last week popped into her mind. Sir James Worthington was coming to stay for the festivities and was expected to make an offer for Eleanor. Could the gentleman who’d done his best to kill her in the snow be the very same person?

If he was, then he was not right for Eleanor. He was too forthright, too dictatorial and would scare his would be bride into accepting him. He must be an eligible
parti
, a wealthy man of impeccable breeding, for Lord and Lady Hartford to consider him suitable for either of their beautiful daughters.

He would be more suited to Amelia. She was as sharp as her mother and would not take kindly to being dictated to by anyone. Indeed, she was her papa’s favourite, the older of the two by a few minutes only, but one would think she was her sister’s senior by several years at least.

It would be interesting to watch how this developed. She was glad she was not often asked to dine with the family as she preferred to eat her meals in the kitchen or on a tray in the nursery. When she was obliged to join them in order to make up the numbers, she was either ignored or constantly reminded of her good fortune to be still living at Hartford Hall.

With so many guests expected over the next two days there would be no need for her. The enormous table in the dining room would be quite full enough. She had often slipped in to the grand drawing-room and hid herself behind a convenient pillar in order to listen and observe on similar occasions. She had every intention of doing so this time.

“Duncan, what can you tell me about Miss Baverstock? It’s quite plain she’s being taken advantage of here.”

“Everyone below stairs is only too happy to tell me of the iniquities of your host and hostess. Miss Baverstock has lived here since she was a tot. When her grandfather died sudden like, he’d made no financial provision for her so she’s obliged to suffer or be on the streets.”

James threw down his riding crop, barely restraining himself from cursing. “Where did these current incumbents come from? I cannot believe they were always living in such style, or had so much wealth and their disposal.”

“You have hit the mark, sir, with that. The present Lord Hartford had no expectations of inheriting, was living as a country squire in Bedfordshire. He was discovered by the lawyers. It seems there’s a direct line through a great uncle, but he’s not born and bred to this.”

“Small wonder they wish to keep her away from their guests. She is as different from their girls as chalk is to cheese. Her gentility and refinement do not show the others in a good light.”

He frowned. He should not be discussing such matters with his valet; he must be more careful what he said in future. Quickly changing the subject, he enquired about the other guests.

“How many are expected? I heard at White’s Lord Bloomfield is coming with his entire family. Hasn’t he got two sons and two daughters all of marriageable age?”

“He has, sir, and he’s to have the apartment next to this, his progeny are on the other side of the house. From what I heard there will be thirty staying here, but I don’t believe any of them are likely to be known to you, Sir James.”

“I like Bloomfield. At least I shall have someone to play billiards with when I wish to escape from the ladies.”

He was conducted through the splendid building by a footman who had been assigned to him for the duration of his visit. He was delighted to see this was the same young man who had carried the patient away.

“How is Miss Baverstock? What did the physician say when he called?”

“He wasn’t sent for, Sir James. Mrs. Blake is good with fevers and such, she’ll get better treatment from her anyway.”

“Can you arrange for the basket of fruit and the flowers in my room to be transferred to Miss Baverstock with my compliments?”

The footman beamed. “I’ll see to it myself, Sir James. Lady Hartford says I am to fetch and carry for you so they can have no objection.”

Downstairs there was a confusion of new guests. Lady Hartford and her daughters were greeting each one in turn, but of Lord Hartford there was no sign. This was a further indication that the newly elevated peer did not know the correct way to behave. Not wishing to be involved with introductions, James slipped past unnoticed and strolled into the grand drawing-room.

This chamber was certainly large enough to be the main reception room, but grand it certainly wasn’t. He shuddered at the black and gold furnishings. Her ladyship was obviously a slave to fashion and every item of furniture reflected the Egyptian theme currently in vogue. The décor was not in keeping with the elegant proportions of the room. No doubt, what had been here before was now consigned to the attics along with poor Miss Baverstock.

The patter of slippers alerted him and he glanced over his shoulder. “Lady Eleanor, I am delighted to see you again. It has been too long since we met at the Cavendish party last month.”

She curtsied and he bowed; he didn’t think she’d enjoy him kissing her hand.

“Sir James, I’ve been looking forward to your visit. Mama says I am to apologise on her behalf that you were obliged to become involved with Elizabeth. Mama is most annoyed with her.”

“Unnecessary, my dear, I did no more than any other gentleman would do for a lady in distress.”

“Do you know I’m not allowed to go up and see how she is? She’s the dearest girl; I don’t understand why Amelia and my parents have taken such a dislike to her. The staff treat her with the utmost respect, which is something I suppose.”

He smiled warmly at the girl he’d all but decided to propose to this holiday. “I’m happy you do not share their feelings, my lady. I understand Miss Baverstock has lived at Hartford Hall since she was very small. Being excluded from the family in this way must be hard for her.”

“I’m certain it is, but she has nowhere else to go and Mama says that being the granddaughter of an earl is not sufficient to attract a husband. Without countenance and fortune, I fear she is stuck here unless she cares to take employment as a governess or companion.”

“Whatever Lady Hartford says, Lady Eleanor, it would be most unsuitable for Miss Baverstock to be obliged to work for her living.
Her
pedigree is impeccable.” The girl’s face crumpled at his sharp retort. He must remember to speak softly to her, she was of a nervous disposition and easily upset. “I beg your pardon, my lady, for speaking so abruptly. Come, I should like to see around this excellent building. Will you be my guide?”

When Elizabeth woke up the next morning she felt considerably better and quite well enough to rise and resume her normal chores. If she was honest, she much preferred to be busy, working with those who loved her, not sitting about in idleness all day as the family did.

She scrambled out of bed, unsurprised no one had found time to come up and light her fire, for they would be far too busy with the newly arrived Christmas guests. The sun was shining through the frosted panes; she breathed on the glass to clear a space. Her spirits lifted. The vista was so beautiful; the trees sparkled, the grass was a carpet of white upon which black footsteps could be spied. Someone was up before her and was already out for a morning constitutional.

The mantel clock showed there was ample time for her to break her fast before supervising the collection of the greenery to decorate the house. A huge tree trunk had already been placed in the massive fireplace in the entrance hall; this Yule log would be lit on the day of the ball and would then burn throughout the twelve days of Christmas.

There was little point in lighting a fire in her bedchamber now, she would dress and go straight to the breakfast parlour. It would be warm in there. Having scrambled into her underpinnings, she selected a warm, blue, velvet long-sleeved gown from her closet and hastily stepped into it.

When Lady Hartford had insisted she wear her hair under a cap as if she were a servant, it had been her intention to conceal Elizabeth’s true appearance. However, Sally, who had once been Elizabeth’s abigail but now attended to Amelia, had made her half a dozen caps from antique lace. Although these were hardly flattering, they were not as bad as they might have been. The fact her cap covered her hair was also an advantage as she had no wish to attract the attention of any visiting gentlemen.

Several servants enquired solicitously after her health and she was happy to reassure them that her sojourn in bed had fully restored her. As expected, the air was far warmer downstairs then in her own accommodation. She didn’t really require her wrap but as she was going to the outside directly after she’d eaten she kept it with her. She was already wearing her stout walking boots under her gown. They were inappropriate, but as she was all but invisible to anyone apart from the staff no one would notice.

She walked straight into the breakfast room, heading for the sideboard upon which were the usual dozen or so silver servers all filled with appetising items. Her stomach gurgled loudly.

Most days she had little time to eat, and even when she did, her appetite was not what it used to be. She was in the process of examining the contents when someone spoke behind her.