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CHAPTER TWO
‘MY UNCLE is dead?’ Robert Moorcroft looked up from the glass of wine he had been staring into and glared at his secretary. ‘No, damn it! I understood he expected to live at least a year or more. It was the reason he left England to find a warmer climate.’
‘He had a nasty chill,’ Henry Norton explained. ‘I daresay it was the stress of the journey from England or being caught in a sudden rainstorm. You knew he was a sick man, Robert. It was always on the cards that he might go suddenly.’
‘Poor devil. He expected to have a few months of peace and quiet—away from that barn of a place. It must have been hell for him these past few years. First his wife dead of a fever and then two of his sons—both succumbed to the same sickness.’
‘I daresay it was an inherited weakness. You told me Eliza Benton was always sickly.’
‘Yes, I imagine so.’ Robert nodded morosely. ‘It didn’t help living in that draughty old house, I daresay.’
‘Why do you dislike it so?’
‘I spent the worst two years of my life there. Uncle William was in mourning for his wife and then his sons—and my father was recently dead from that carriage accident. My mother died when I was born, of course, and my uncle’s family was closer than my own because my father went into himself and forgot he even had a son. That same year I’d been sent down from college. The atmosphere at Banford was positively oppressive. I wanted to escape as quickly as I could, and I did. After the freedom of the army, I vowed I would never return.’
‘Well, you’re the earl now,’ Henry said, and smiled affectionately at his friend. After being invalided from the army, he’d taken the position of Robert’s secretary, though he was a gentleman’s son and had his own small estate in Devon. Perhaps he, too, was hiding—in his own case because of physical scars. Robert’s scars were mental; they might not show, but they were just as crippling. ‘You owe the old man a duty—even if you only stay long enough to sell the place and see the old retainers right. At least you have no entail to worry about. You are the last of your line.’
Robert groaned. ‘Don’t remind me, Nor.’ He used the nickname from their army days. ‘I suppose you’re right, as always. I told that lawyer fellow to get a housekeeper, so if we leave in a couple of weeks, she should have the place in good heart—wouldn’t you think?’
‘I doubt she’ll have changed it much in that time. You should give her a month—besides, you’ve business here. That’s if you intend to ask the comtesse to marry you?’
Robert wrinkled his brow. ‘The fair Adelaide. She is a beauty, Nor. I could do a lot worse. I suppose I ought to think about an heir—but not for that damned house. If I do settle back in England, I shall pull the house down and build something modern—or simply sell the place.’
‘Don’t you think that would be rather a shame? It does have a certain charm. You could use the money to put in some decent plumbing and refurbish it … repair the roof where necessary.’
‘Why should I throw good money after bad?’ Robert asked, and yawned. ‘That house drained my uncle of the will to live … or at the very least, it contributed to his decline. I inherited a fortune from my mother’s family. Why should I waste it on that place?’
Henry shrugged. ‘It’s entirely up to you, my friend. In your place I would want to make it into a home again. But if you have bad memories associated with it …’
‘What of you?’ Robert asked. ‘You came here with me because neither of us could face the thought of going home after that last show in France. Too many friends lost … too much death and pain. The weather suits you here, Nor. Will you be able to stand the cold at home?’
‘My leg still pains me,’ Henry admitted, then touched the puckered scar on his left cheek. ‘This doesn’t hurt at all; it’s just ugly, though better than it was at first. I have no hope of finding a woman to marry me, for I shan’t be married for pity—and who could love me looking like this?’
‘You are an ugly devil,’ Robert said cheerfully. ‘But I love you for yourself, Nor—and any girl with half a mind would see your worth if you gave her the chance.’
Henry smiled wryly. ‘I thank you for your kind words, milord. However, I should not want to inflict this on some poor girl who needed to marry for the sake of a place to live. No, I’ll rub along nicely as your secretary—until you’re bored with me. Then I’ll go home.’
‘In that case you’ll be with me for life.’ Robert grinned. ‘You can see your scars, Nor—but mine are too horrible to bear. Only you could have got me through these past few years. I think I should have gone mad without you.’
‘We need each other,’ Nor agreed, and smiled. ‘Well, are we going or not?’
‘We’ll go—but not for a few weeks. I’m not sure about the lovely Adelaide. She fancies herself as my wife—but could she stand me when I’m having a nightmare? I’ll think about it for a couple of weeks or so, and then, depending on her answer, we’ll go back to England.’
‘All right,’ Nor said, and nodded. ‘Now, what about this other business?’
‘You mean was my uncle right to suspect that he was being cheated?’ Robert frowned. ‘If I’m going to make enquiries, I might as well start now. You can write to my lawyer in England and set an agent on it. I cannot see why anyone would wish to harm my uncle, for he was a generous employer and a decent landlord.’
‘Some twisted revenge for past hurts? A man sacked or a poacher arrested?’
‘I suppose revenge might be the reason.’ Robert lifted his wineglass and drained it. ‘Remind me to have a few cases of this shipped back when we go, Nor. I doubt my uncle has anything drinkable in his cellars.’ He rose to his feet and ran long, sensitive fingers through his dark hair. He was a handsome devil, strong and lean, with a face that reflected his emotions all too often. ‘I’ll ride over and visit Adelaide. I suppose you don’t want to come? Miss Bartlet is very pretty, too, you know. I am certain she doesn’t want to be a poor relation all her life.’
‘That may be the case, but Miss Bartlet shudders every time she sees me. No, thank you, Robert. I’ll stay here and write your letters—and I’ll see about shipping some wine. We might sell a few dozen cases. It would be worth looking into the idea of shipping wine home, especially if we’re going to live there for a while.’
‘Leave it all to you, Nor,’ Robert drawled, and laughed huskily. ‘I’m a lazy devil. What would I do without you?’
‘Go to the devil a little faster than you are already?’ his friend suggested, giving a snort of laughter.
Shaking his head, Robert Moorcroft, lately become Earl Banford, left the villa that had been his home for the past two years or so, since Napoleon’s surrender. Obviously he couldn’t hide away here for ever. Despite his reluctance, he was the heir to an old line, and he would have to provide an heir for the future one day. The only thing in doubt was whether he did it in that draughty old barn or built himself a new house …
‘Oh, my goodness,’ Amy said as the coach drew to a halt in the courtyard of the house they’d caught glimpses of for the past ten minutes or more. ‘Those towers and the tiny windows. It’s like something out of Udolpho … so romantic …’
‘It’s big,’ her more practical sister said, and felt her stomach catch with nerves.
She really hadn’t expected the house to be this large. It was impressive, with its towers and the soft, faded grey stone of its old walls, but daunting, a little forbidding. A myriad of tiny windows sparkled in the late-autumn sunshine, their leaded panes like so many diamonds twinkling as they caught the dying rays of the sun on a day that had been unseasonably warm.
‘A place like this needs an army of servants to keep it as it ought to be.’
‘Mr Breck told you that only one wing is in use for the family. The other two were closed up years ago—and the folly is actually unsafe.’
‘How do you know that, Millie?’ Selina looked at her. ‘Were you listening at the door?’
‘No, I read the letter he left for you—the one that tells you where all the keys are kept and all the other things he thinks you ought to know.’
‘Indeed?’ Her sister gave her a quelling look. ‘Since I did not give you permission to read my letter, you were prying, miss.’
‘If you don’t pry, you never know anything,’ Millie said, and looked pleased with herself. ‘I may only be twelve—thirteen next birthday—but I’m old enough to understand. You shouldn’t treat me as if I were a child, Selina.’
‘No, I shouldn’t. You are old enough to understand, miss—which is why I was cross when I caught you trying to pack that Book of Hours. It is medieval and far too valuable to hope that Cousin Joshua would not notice if it went missing.’
‘He’s a mean pig,’ Millie said, forgetting that she was a young lady. ‘Why should he have it? Papa said it was to be mine when I was sixteen. He promised me I should have it.’
‘Well, he ought not to have made a promise like that,’ Amy said. ‘Anyone knows that book is entailed, Millie. We were allowed to bring only personal things—that book must be worth near a thousand guineas. Cousin Joshua would certainly come after us if we took something so valuable. I had to leave that painting I liked, too.’
‘It just isn’t fair …’ Millie bit her lip as she looked at the house. ‘It looks a bit creepy. I bet there will be ghosts.’
‘Papa told us all there was no such thing as a ghost—not the kind who rattle chains, anyway—only unhappy spirits tied to a place or house,’ Selina reassured her calmly.
‘I hope there are ghosts,’ Amy said, and opened the door to jump down before the postilion could do it for her. ‘I can’t wait to see inside.’
As she began to walk towards it, the front door opened, and an elderly man dressed in black came down the steps to greet them. At his back was a woman of a similar age and two male servants who appeared to be outside workers.
Selina’s servants had travelled in a second small coach behind them, with the baggage on a wagon at the rear. They had arrived now, and by the time all three girls had got out, the servants were grouped behind them. When Selina moved forward, they followed, rather like guards of honour, as if prepared to defend her.
‘Miss Searles?’ The butler came forward, his eyes flicking to the women behind her, his expression wary. ‘I expected you earlier.’
‘We suffered a small delay at the last posting house,’ Selina told him with a smile. ‘You are Trent, of course. I am so relieved that you have remained at your post. I am sure your help will be invaluable.’
‘Well, ma’am,’ Trent said, visibly melting under the warmth of her smile, ‘I am sure I felt it my duty to the new earl. If traditions are not to be lost, he will need someone who recalls the old days when he decides to come home.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Selina replied easily. ‘And so shall we, for this is to be our home in the meantime, and we wish to do everything as it ought to be—and I know you will be able to tell me how things used to be, Trent. Although we may need to change certain things. I have only a few servants, as you see. My groom is bringing the horses, but I shall have to acquire a chaise for our use.’
‘I daresay there is one you may use in the coach house, ma’am—and the carriage horses are still here. The earl did not wish to dispose of them, you see. My brother’s grandson has been helping out in the stable while we waited to see what happened.’
‘Well, that would be useful—though I’m not sure I ought to take advantage.’
‘A tenant is entitled to use all the facilities, ma’am.’
‘Well, we shall see,’ Selina said. ‘Our goods are not far behind us. I see you have two strong men. Do you think they could unload the wagon for us?’
‘Certainly, ma’am, it’s what they’re here for. They will take your trunks up first, and then you may wish to direct them where to put your furniture.’
‘It will mostly go in our bedrooms. There are only a dozen pieces or so—also some china, glass, silver and linen. I have a beautiful spinet and a sewing table, also a pretty desk which may go in the parlour …’
‘We have several parlours. You must allow me to give you a tour, ma’am. You will want to decide which is for your personal use.’
‘How kind you are, Trent. I was afraid you might resent us because we’re not family,’ Selina said gently.
The old man looked sad. ‘We’ve lost our family, ma’am. All but the new earl. Until he decides to take a bride and bring the house back to life, we shall be glad to have a family like your own staying here.’
‘Thank you. Perhaps I may introduce you to Miss Amy Searles and Miss Millicent, known to us all as Millie.’
‘Pleased to meet the young ladies, I’m sure,’ Trent said, and turned towards the elderly lady standing behind him. ‘This is Nanny Barnes. Nanny had nowhere else to go, so like me she decided to stay while she was of use. Nanny is very good at preparing tisanes and the like—and she’s more than capable of helping to keep the rooms tidy, Miss Searles. She won’t ask for more than her keep.’
‘Oh, I think Mr Breck intends to pay you all a wage,’ Selina told him. ‘I shall certainly see that you receive remuneration of some kind. For the moment we shall manage with a small staff, but in time Mr Breck may consider it necessary to bring in others—particularly for the outside work.’
‘The old earl only used a few rooms, ma’am,’ Trent said, clearly feeling he needed to give her the status of an older woman, as she was the head of the household. ‘Should you wish to entertain on a large scale, you would need more than you have presently—if you do not mind my saying so.’
‘As you know, we are in mourning for our mother,’ Selina replied, a catch in her throat. ‘We shall not entertain much for a while.’ She frowned as a phrase he’d used more than once registered warning bells in her mind. ‘You spoke of the new earl—has the old earl died? We understood he was expected to live some months—even a few years if he removed to a better climate?’
‘Yes, that is so, Miss Searles. Unfortunately it seems he was caught in a sudden thunderstorm while out walking. The soaking he received gave him a nasty chill, which turned to pneumonia and led to his sudden demise.’
‘How very unfortunate,’ Selina said, and her heart caught. ‘You have not heard when the new earl intends to return?’
‘We suppose he will not think of it yet, since he has leased the house to you, ma’am,’ Trent said, and led the way inside. ‘Would you like Nanny to bring you some tea to the back parlour? It gets the evening sun and we had a fire lit there earlier. Your servants will need to find their way about before they start work, I imagine.’
‘Would it be too much trouble for you, Nanny?’ Selina glanced at the elderly lady, who had merely inclined her head when she was introduced yet watched them anxiously.
‘No trouble at all, ma’am,’ Nanny replied, taking her cue from Trent. ‘If the young ladies would join you in the parlour, Trent, I will bring some refreshments—and then we’ll take you up once your things have been carried up.’
‘I should love to explore,’ Amy said. ‘Tell me, Mr Trent—is there a minstrels’ gallery here, and do you have any priest holes?’ Her excitement showed in her pretty face. ‘I am hoping one of the towers is haunted!’
‘We have a minstrels’ gallery in the great hall, miss,’ Trent told her, an indulgent look in his eyes. ‘We have two priest holes, but I fear there is no haunted tower. We don’t have any skeletons in the cupboard—though the family has been unfortunate these past years.’
‘Will you show me the house?’ Amy asked. ‘I can’t wait to see simply everything.’
‘The folly is out of bounds, miss,’ Trent told her. ‘It’s dangerous because some of the stonework is crumbling. But there’s no reason you shouldn’t explore the rest of the house and estate whenever you wish.’
‘Not yet, Amy,’ Selina said. ‘We must give Jane and Betty time to get our things settled, and for the moment no one has time to show us the house. I do not want you getting lost on your first evening.’
‘Oh, nonsense,’ Amy said. ‘I shall not lose my way—but if you want me with you until things are ready, I suppose I must wait.’
‘I’m hungry,’ Millie said. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any cake?’
‘I’m sure Nanny baked something this morning,’ Trent told her. ‘She has been cooking for all of us since the earl left and most of the servants decided to move to a better place. Not that you could blame them for leaving in the circumstances. This house has been like a morgue for the past three years or more.’ He looked embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry, ma’am. I forgot for a moment that you’re in mourning, too.’
‘Yes, we are,’ Selina agreed. ‘But you mustn’t think we intend to dwell on our sorrow, for we don’t. Mama would hate it if we all went around with long faces. She always wanted us to be happy, and she will want us to make the best of our situation. We shall wear black or grey until Christmas, when I intend to hold a little party. However, we shall be at home to our neighbours, should any call—and we shall attend small dinners soon. We may also ask one or two people to dine here on occasion, but nothing resembling a party until Christmas.’
‘That sounds very much better than we’ve been used to,’ Trent said, patently relieved. ‘I daresay we could send to the village for extra help should you need it, ma’am.’
‘We are accustomed to keeping our own rooms tidy—at least Amy and I do our best.’ Selina arched one delicate eyebrow at her youngest sister. ‘I am trying to teach Millie to be a little more careful of her things, but sometimes I despair of her.’
Sensing the teasing note underlying Selina’s words, Trent smiled and nodded. Having delivered his new family to a charming parlour that overlooked the back lawns and rose gardens, he left them to go in search of Nanny and their refreshments.
‘What shall we do if the new earl comes home?’ Amy asked in a low voice as the butler left them. ‘He instructed Mr Breck to employ a housekeeper, not let the house to a non-paying tenant.’
‘We shall pay our way,’ Selina said firmly. ‘I do not wish for any remuneration, but I intend to keep the house in good order. We shall all clean our own bedrooms. Amy, you will do the flowers for the rooms we use, and Millie can help by picking up books, scarves and any other personal items we leave about. It is my intention to make an inventory of the linen and household goods. I shall beeswax the furniture in the rooms we use, for it has not been done in an age. Cook will rule in the kitchen as always, Jane will organise our clothes, and Betty will see to the other housework and help Cook. We may need help from the village for the laundry, but if we all do our share, I see no reason why we should not bring the house to life again.’
‘Amy is always leaving things about,’ Millie said, looking put out. ‘I do not see why I should pick her things up.’
‘You leave far more about than I do. Besides, I’m doing the flowers—and that takes ages,’ Amy replied.
‘You can change jobs if you wish,’ Selina said, ‘But I cannot do it all myself, and so you must help. I shall help with the estate, as well as organising the house, keeping our accounts and ordering what we can afford from the local suppliers. Please do not argue, Millie. I am finding the prospect quite daunting enough as it is.’
Millie looked self-conscious. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘It’s just all so new and … so horrid without Mama. I shouldn’t have minded where we were if she was with us.’
‘Please don’t cry, my love,’ Selina begged, her throat closing. ‘I do know how you feel but … we are lucky to have this chance. Even if it only lasts for a few months, it will give us the opportunity to decide where we want to live when the earl does come home.’
‘I wasn’t going to cry.’ Millie sniffed hard, holding back her tears. ‘But why did Cousin Joshua have to be so mean?’
‘He is entitled to instruct the builders to make repairs. Mama ought to have done it sooner—indeed, it was truly Papa who was at fault. Instead of gambling his money away in London, he should have stayed at home and looked after his estate.’
‘I shall never understand how it happened,’ Amy said, her eyes glittering with suppressed anger. ‘Papa never gambled to excess. I think he must have been cheated.’
‘Why did he gamble at all?’ Millie asked.
‘Because he knew that the estate was suffering,’ Selina explained, as she had several times previously. ‘We had two bad harvests, and there was that nasty sickness that killed off most of our prime herd of cattle—and then Father made a bad investment with some merchant or other. He hoped he might win a few thousand pounds to tide him over until the harvest came in.’
‘Instead, he lost what money he had and—’ Amy choked. ‘I shall never forgive him for doing that to Mama. She loved him so much, and his death in that manner broke her heart.’
‘It broke all our hearts,’ Selina said, and held out her arms to her sisters. ‘Come here, my dear ones. We have each other and in that we are lucky. We may be poor, but we still have our pride and our love for each other—as long as we have that, we shall manage.’
‘You shame us,’ Amy said, and brushed her tears away. ‘You’ve had most of the burden to bear—and then Lord Markham stopped calling when he learned Papa had—’ She broke off and shook her head. ‘No, we shall not think of it again. Millie, we must help Selina all we can. The work will only take an hour or so in the mornings and then we may do as we like. I cannot wait to explore and discover the history of the house. Do you suppose there is a library and records of the family?’
Selina nodded and hugged both of her sisters in turn. ‘That’s right, Amy. We must all find ways to enjoy ourselves. It will seem more like home when we have our own things about us—and it will not be long until Christmas. We shall have a little party then, and presents, all the decorations we brought from home—and we’ll make new ones.’
They heard a little cough from the hallway and then the door opened. Nanny entered, followed by Trent, who carried a large tray. He set it down on a table next to Selina’s chair. Nanny had brought a stand on which she had placed plates of cakes, dainty pastries and some little sweet treats. Clearly it was not the work of a few minutes, which meant she must have spent some hours earlier that afternoon in preparing for their arrival.
‘How lovely,’ Selina said. ‘Nanny, you must have worked very hard. I cannot thank you enough for making us feel so welcome.’
