The Primrose Path (18 page)

“Oh, we have room.” Angelina had room and dogs and primroses—and Mercedes Lavalier. Angelina had a problem. “Ah, before you accept my invitation, I fear I have to confess to another guest who might not be to your liking.”

“Mercedes Lavalier?”

“But how ... ?”

“You shouldn’t be surprised. I took tea at the inn, recall. Your French visitor is the most exciting thing to happen to this little village since someone’s cow kicked in the church door.”

“That would have been Widow Maloney’s Sugar. But Mademoiselle Lavalier’s presence was supposed to be secret, for her own safety.”

“Spying, was she? No, my dear, do not look so stricken. You have given nothing away that everyone hasn’t surmised, with the most famous ballet dancer in France fleeing in the dead of night. If I hadn’t heard all the conjectures, I’d still have wondered, seeing that contingent of soldiers at Viscount Knowle’s gatehouse. No, I would not mind staying in the same house as Mademoiselle Lavalier. In fact, I would consider it an honor to be given the opportunity to see her dance. The Corsican upstart has much to answer for, including depriving us in England of a magnificent
artiste.
Has she performed for you?”

“Only in practice. Do you play the pianoforte, my lady?”

“I have spent many lonely hours at my instrument. The music gives me solace.”

“Then you might be honored every night when Mercedes practices, for I am nowhere near proficient enough for her.”

“To play for a real ballerina?” Lady Hathaway set Tippy on the floor, making sure the little dog was firmly on his feet. “Oh, I couldn’t.”

“Well, I cannot, so you would be doing me a great favor. In fact, if you would see your way to staying here, you’d be doing me an incredible service. Mercedes Lavalier is a woman of magnificent passions: for her country, her muse, and her men. She is excused much because of her art, but I—”

“Need to satisfy the conventions if you are to live in the ordinary world, correct?”

“Precisely. But if you were here lending your countenance, then we may all be comfortable again. Oh, do say you’ll stay, my lady. We also have a little girl who desperately needs affection, Mrs. Gibb’s child just rescued from an orphanage. And Mr. Browne, the architect, is here all the time, more so now because of Mrs. Gibb, who is an excellent teacher. Oh, and there’s to be a house party at the Knoll, but many of the gentlemen guests are expected to visit Mercedes at the cottage, except they are to say they are looking at the dogs.”

“My, and I thought the countryside was a place for peaceful relaxation.” Lady Hathaway laughed. “Are you trying to convince me or discourage me, my dear? Is there anything else I need to know? Perhaps a wicked stepmother, a troll in the garden?”

“Viscount Knowle was troublesome at first, but I don’t know that I’d call him a troll.”

“If you did, you’d be the first female in his experience to do so, I believe. So the young devil has been troublesome? That wouldn’t be why you need a chaperon, would it? No, my dear Miss Armstead, I’ll spare your blushes. I’ll be pleased to stay to see your primroses and play for your prima donna and spoil your pets and your little poppet. I also consider it my duty to safeguard your reputation, as I would have done for my daughters, as your mother would have done for you.”

Chapter Twenty

“What, have you taken in another stray? The guards said a woman called but didn’t leave.” Lord Knowle was in Angelina’s parlor, pacing. Ajax kept his eyes on the viscount; the viscount kept his eyes on Miss Armstead, who was looking like dessert in a strawberry mull gown with a cream lace fichu. “Deuce take it, haven’t we got enough in our dish without adding another tidbit to the scandalbroth, Angel?”

“That’s Miss Armstead, Lord Knowle, and my new guest is not a stray.” She was combing one of the little terriers. Mavis was so busy making dresses and pinafores for Robinet that the grooming chores were being delayed.

“Pardon, another sister. What is this one, a Covent Garden flower seller?”

“She’s not quite a sister, more a fairy godmother, so you should be pleased. She is going to relieve you of at least two burdens. First, she’s going to take Tippy.”

“The furball that has fits? Excellent. You’re right, I’d do better to welcome her. I’ll even pay her coach fare back to London, with a bonus if she takes the blind dust mop, too.”

“Coach fare will not be necessary, for she is going to stay on as chaperon. Since you have been so concerned for my reputation, that should gratify you.”

“If she stays, does that mean the dog stays, too? Blast.” Corin grimaced at the other two rat-size dogs chasing after the swaying tassels on his Hessians. At least he wouldn’t have to listen to Doddsworth complain when he arrived home with battle scars on his boots. Then again, his footman could not tie a cravat. Bother!

“Furthermore, I shudder to think what type of woman you’d find appropriate for a
duenna.
You picked an unmarried mother for schoolteacher, so what’s this one?”

“A countess.”

The viscount stopped so short the little dogs tumbled into his feet. He looked up to see golden lights twinkling in Lena’s green eyes. “A genuine countess, I swear,” she told him. “Lady Lillian Hathaway is her name. I believe you are acquainted.”

“Lady Hathaway? Why, she’s a veritable pillar of Society, one of the most respected gentlewomen of the ton. What the deuce is
she
doing here? No,” he said when Angelina gurgled with laughter, “I didn’t mean it that way. I mean why has she come and why is she staying?”

“She was a friend of my mother’s,” Angelina replied, “who saw my advertisement.” That was the story she and Lady Hathaway had decided to tell, rather than broadcast that lady’s sorrow. Not giving the viscount a chance to make further inquiries, Angelina continued: “I asked her to stay to lend her countenance. I think it shall serve, don’t you?”

“In spades. There has never been a hint of scandal attached to the lady, not when she was married to that dirty dish Hathaway, not since she’s been a widow. But where is your new watchdog? I should pay my respects.”

“You should be gone altogether, rather. Didn’t we decide you should not feed the rumor mill by calling here?”

He sat down, relaxed now that the question of the new female at Primrose Cottage was so happily resolved. He even let Lucky—or was it Lucy?—jump into his lap. “Yes, I was going to stay away, but I had to bring Major McKennon to interview Mercedes.”

“What, an officer in His Majesty’s cavalry couldn’t find his way through the home woods? He found his way to my morning room well enough,” she said. She had not been pleased when the mutton-chopped officer curtly dismissed the servants and the hostess alike, firmly shutting the door behind him and the Frenchwoman. Everyone had heard the key turn in the lock. Everyone had deduced they weren’t merely discussing government business. “And you surely didn’t have to wait to see him back on the path. One cannot miss it, with the primroses nearly out.”

“I wanted to see how the little girl was settling in.”

“Well, thank you. She went off to the school with Elizabeth this morning, and with the collie, of course. Now she is resting, again with the collie. But you could have asked Penn, my lord, rather than sit in the drawing room, leaving your motives open to conjecture.”

“My motives, dash it, were to get out of the house. My sister still thinks I was trying to murder her children by bringing a dog home. Anyway, there won’t be any conjecture now that Lady Hathaway is here.” He tweaked the ribbon out of Lucky’s hair and stuffed it between the seat cushions while Angelina was distracted by the dog she was combing. “She
is
here, isn’t she?”

“Lady Hathaway assured me that she is the perfect dragon, a regular fire-breather, until nap time.”

“Capital, I always thought the ideal chaperon was one who let her good name and good sense play propriety. Let’s take advantage of her largesse and go for a walk. The day is lovely, and I didn’t get to see all the primroses.”

The afternoon was perfect, and the primroses wouldn’t last for long. Neither would his lordship’s attentions, Angelina knew. He’d go back to London, back to his tonnish life that certainly did not include a former companion. Angelina decided to enjoy the day, and his company, while she could.

First she had to fetch a bonnet. Wearing the pesky thing was easier than listening to Mavis and Mercedes complain about her complexion.

Corin just said, “Of course,” to cover his disappointment that Lena was going to cover those disordered ringlets he found so fascinating. He hadn’t lied about his motives for coming—bringing the major, inquiring about the child, avoiding his relations—but he hadn’t been totally honest, either. The fact was, he couldn’t stay away. There was just something about this woman, this woman in the wrong place at the wrong time, with the wrong birth and the wrong beliefs, that drew him like a dog to a bone. She didn’t fit into any of the comfortable categories: servant or master, light-skirt or lady, wife or mistress. Corin knew he couldn’t trifle with her; he didn’t know why he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

“Charming,” he said when she reappeared in a flower-strewn straw bonnet that made her look like a bouquet of violets. Not so charming, he thought when she invited half the dogs in Kent to join them in a stroll.

“We’ll go toward the back garden, shall we,” Angelina asked, “so we are in sight of Lady Hathaway’s rooms? I find I care more for her good regard than for whatever the villagers might be saying.”

The dogs frolicked around them, ecstatic to be out of doors and off the lead. Bunny treed a squirrel—no rabbits would dare invade her territory—and Digger set out to dig to China, via the rosebushes. Windy trundled to a spot in the sun, and the three little terriers chased bees hovering around the early blooms. Ajax stayed at Angelina’s side, whichever side the viscount chose to take, so Corin started tossing sticks for the big dog. Ajax brought them back every time, to Angelina. His lordship gave up on getting rid of the monster and took a deep breath of the spring air. Lilacs, he thought, although he didn’t think they were in season yet. Lena, he decided, smiling.

“Something is amusing, my lord?”

“No, just pleasing. There’s nothing like spring in the countryside, is there? One forgets, in the city.”

“Because there are so many other diversions: theater, museums, parties. Some of us provincials take these days for granted, but others need to make nature our entertainment, don’t you know. And, of course, there are the farmers, whose livelihoods depend on the sun and the rain.”

“That reminds me, the farmers. I have been visiting with some of my tenants these past few days.”

“I’m sure they appreciate it, knowing you care enough to come by in person to listen to their problems or commend their progress. A steward is merely a paid overseer, but you are part of the land to them.”

He was dirt to some of them, he knew, for their leaking roofs and outmoded equipment, but he meant to see the cottages and holdings brought up to snuff. Corin was ashamed that he’d needed a chit’s reminder that he’d let his responsibilities slide. “Yes, well, I don’t mean to be so much the absentee landlord. The estate suffers. By the way, some of the tenants mentioned that you had been making calls in my stead.”

“Not in your place, my lord, in Lady Sophie’s. She always said it was your family’s duty to look after the people who earned your wealth. Noblesse oblige, and all. I went along with her for many years, getting to know all of the families. With you not here, I felt I should continue after my lady’s passing. Mrs. Rice needs her rheumatism medicine, and Sarah Cummings has delivered her sixth babe, so I took some new blankets to her.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

“Take Sarah blankets? I assure you Primrose Cottage can stand the expense, or I could pay the cost myself.”

“No, I wish you wouldn’t be going about like that, visiting my tenants.”

“
Oh, I see.” Angelina whistled the dogs back to her side, to return to the house. “I have overstepped my position. My apologies, my
lord
,
if I inadvertently usurped your mother’s duties or your wife’s. I am sure your tenants will be relieved when you marry, so they might have a real lady to look after their interests.”

Corin found himself alone on the path except for old Windy. He called out to Angelina, “Wait, dash it, that’s not what I meant. And no, I shan’t pick you up. Not you, Angel, this bloated bulldog of yours that’s looking at me so piteously.”

“He’s old and tired and his joints ache, just like Mrs. Rice’s, but I wouldn’t expect you to help. After all, he is my responsibility, as the tenants are yours.” She bent to pat the wrinkled old dog, telling him they’d wait till he was ready to go home.

“Hell and damnation, woman, I’ll carry the malodorous mutt if he needs it. What is one more waistcoat? But I will not let you go off in a huff like that.”

“Oh, no? And how do you intend to keep me from going where I want to?”

“I will—” He wouldn’t. Ajax was between Corin and Angelina, showing his teeth and growling. “Blast, that dog hates me.”

“He doesn’t like shouting or threatening gestures. Neither does Caesar.”

Caesar was the one who didn’t like men at all. Corin looked down. “Bloody hell! The whole garden and he’s got to use my Hessians? Of all your ill-trained, rag-mannered mongrels, Miss Armstead, this one is the worst. And I did not intend to insult you, by George.”

“Didn’t you?” she asked, telling Caesar what a naughty dog he was, while she scratched under his chin.

“No, blast it. I do appreciate what you’ve done for the estate, but I don’t want you going visiting because it’s not safe. There are too many strangers around, too much uncertainty about Mercedes and whoever might be looking for her. She’s made no secret of her presence here, so our only hope of protecting the peagoose is keeping her inside or close to the house. That goes for you, too. And that is all I meant. When the world knows that Mercedes Lavalier has left Primrose Cottage, you may visit every one of the tenants, every day, with my blessings.”