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Peyton tried to shrug off the feeling of disappointment. Most likely, that gladness would be reciprocal. The next time he saw Brimley, he would ring a peal over the man’s head. The man had left out quite a lot about Tessa Branscombe when he’d outlined the mission, starting with her ethereal beauty and ending with her inconvenient streak of tenacity. Both attributes made Peyton Ramsden extraordinarily uncomfortable.
Chapter Four
Tessa climbed the stairs to the schoolroom, trying to decide how best to put the news to her sisters. A guardian was a completely unlooked-for development. All her protective instincts were on alert. She didn’t like it in the least and not only because it curtailed her own freedom and plans. Such a development simply didn’t make sense. Why would a codicil appear now? The Earl had implied she feared a swindle of their trust funds, but he was wrong there. She feared something worse than losing money.
Tessa shivered at the thought. It conjured up the disconcerting incidents that had occurred before they’d left St Petersburg. Their home had been broken into days after the funeral. She’d told Sergei, but even with his protection, she’d known she was being followed whenever she went out. She had hoped that distance would have quelled the subtle danger she’d begun to feel in Russia. The appearance of the Earl today suggested otherwise. They knew no one in England, but he’d certainly known them.
It seemed to be an eerie coincidence that after a month alone, they were beset with visitors. Sergei had arrived and now this unknown Earl was claiming guardianship. These newly developed circumstances begged the question: was this truly an accidental happenstance brought on by a quirk of fate, or were these men after something or someone? If the latter were true, it would be much easier to defend herself if she knew what their objective might be.
Tessa took a deep breath and pushed open the door, taking a moment to appreciate the rare tranquillity of seeing her sisters quietly engaged in activity. Eva sat with her embroidery. Petra pored over a beloved book of horses and Annie played quietly with her dolls. Then they spotted her at the door and questions erupted on all sides.
‘Wait! Wait! One at a time,’ Tessa said, moving to sit on the floor next to Annie.
Eva and Petra gathered around her. ‘Well, is he or isn’t he our guardian?’ Petra asked pointedly.
Tessa opted for the direct approach. ‘He has legal documents that proclaim him as such. Until I can prove otherwise, it seems we must abide by this development. I will meet his solicitor and look through the situation quite thoroughly, I assure you. I won’t allow us to be taken advantage of.’
‘When will we see him again? Is he going to live in the house with us?’ Eva asked.
‘Tomorrow and no,’ Tessa responded. ‘He will keep his own residence. His aunt will come with him tomorrow afternoon.’ Tessa paused before adding the next bit of news. ‘It seems that I am to have a Season, although I’ve told him I have no interest in such doings.’
Eva protested immediately. ‘Oh, Tess, you must have a Season! Think of all the gowns and parties. You’ll meet new people. You’ll know how it’s all done when it’s Petra’s turn and my turn.’
Tessa smiled thinly, thinking of the Earl’s goad that she must be cognisant of her sisters’ needs even if she would shun such an opportunity for herself. It was the argument of a traditionalist and it helped alleviate some of her suspicions about his appearance. It was exactly the sort of argument a real guardian would make, wanting to see his charges married off. A man on a different mission would hardly take an interest in such things. ‘Of course, dear.’ She patted Eva’s hand, aware of Petra’s gaze on her.
‘The Earl is not married?’ Petra asked, her natural intuition easily reading between the lines of what had and had not been said. ‘Is that why his aunt is calling?’
Tessa nodded.
Eva gushed, ‘He’ll escort you everywhere, Tess. It will be like a fairy tale. He’s what they call an “eligible parti”.’
Tessa grimaced at the notion. Where had Eva learned such a thing and so quickly after their arrival? She was growing up far too fast. Tessa tried to tamp down Eva’s romantic notions. ‘I have Sergei to act as an escort. I needn’t rely on the Earl wholly, just because a set of papers made him guardian.’
Eva shook her head. ‘Sergei will have to go home eventually. Besides, I thought the Earl was much more handsome than Sergei. He was so dark and mysterious.’ That was saying a lot, considering Tessa knew that Eva harboured an adolescent infatuation with Sergei’s blond Slavic good looks and courtly manners.
‘I thought he was rather pompous and stuffy,’ Petra argued.
Eva shot Petra a sly look. ‘It’s the perfect ones who have the most to hide.’
‘Hush, girls,’ Tessa scolded. She made a mental note to keep a closer eye on Eva’s reading material.
‘Will we stay in London with you, Tess?’ Petra asked, returning to the subject at hand.
‘Yes. I have the Earl’s promise we are not to be parted.’
Petra nodded. ‘Then perhaps his guardianship won’t make that much difference and we’ll be allowed to go on as we have been doing.’
Tessa smiled her assurances, hoping to convince her sisters that Petra was right and all would be well. Life would certainly be easier to manage if that was the case. Although she’d protested against the idea of a Season, and although she’d argued that Sergei would be a preferable escort, Tessa couldn’t fully deny that the idea of spending an evening or two on the Earl’s arm held some appeal. He’d been arrogant today, but beneath that arrogance she’d sensed compassion. He’d offered to keep the girls in London and to let her decide where they went after the Season. Tessa found such a mixture intriguing, and, in Eva’s words, slightly mysterious.
Petra’s idea of a laissez-faire guardian succumbed to reality at precisely eleven o’clock the next morning. The hypothesis that the Earl of Dursley would leave them be had hardly lasted fifteen hours, and they’d been asleep for eight of them.
Mrs Hollister arrived in the modest library Tessa used as her private office, nervous and out of sorts. ‘Miss, there’s visitors here to see you.’
Tessa looked up from her letters. The Earl wasn’t expected to call until the afternoon. ‘Did they say what they wanted?’ It wasn’t like the capable Mrs Hollister to be edgy.
‘They say they’re from the Earl of Dursley.’
Tessa frowned, trying to make sense of the arrivals. ‘His solicitor, perhaps?’ she mused out loud. It was the only explanation that made sense.
‘No, miss. A maid and a footman,’ Mrs Hollister breathed in alarm. ‘I have them in the kitchen. I didn’t know where to put them.’
‘I’ll see them at once. Send them up.’ Tessa set aside her letters. ‘I will see what they want.’
Tessa waited for them to appear, conscious of her choice to receive them in the library. Modest though it was, the room was done in dark woods and carried an aura of authority. Whatever their reason for being here, she wanted the message to be clear that she was mistress of this house. This was not their master’s house.
Mrs Hollister returned with the unexpected arrivals and Tessa was immediately glad of her choice to stay in the library. She’d seen servants like these before—well-trained members of an exceptional noble household. In her experience, these types of servants had their own brand of haughtiness. She should have expected no less from Dursley’s household.
‘What is your business here?’ Tessa asked, taking her seat behind the wide desk.
‘The Earl of Dursley sent us. He said you were newly come to town and had need of staff, miss.’ The maid was dressed as crisply as she spoke. She bobbed a curtsy at the end of her message.
‘I appreciate his thoughtfulness, but he is incorrect in his assumptions. I do not require further staff. We keep an informal house here and Mrs Hollister sees ably to our needs.’ Tessa took out a sheet of paper and dipped her quill in the inkwell. ‘If you wouldn’t mind waiting, I will pen a note to the Earl, explaining my position. I am sure Mrs Hollister will be happy to provide you with tea in the interim.’
The maid and footman exchanged anxious glances. The footman cleared his throat. Tessa stifled a sigh. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. She was starting to suspect that nothing regarding the Earl of Dursley would ever be easy.
‘Excuse me, miss, I don’t mean to be impertinent,’ the footman began, ‘but the Earl said you might not share his opinion on the issue and that we were to remain until his arrival this afternoon.’
Oh, that was very neatly done, Tessa fumed. She couldn’t argue with them because they had no power with which to negotiate. All she could do was let them follow orders until Dursley arrived.
‘I understand your predicament,’ Tessa said tersely. ‘You may make yourselves comfortable in the kitchen.’
They did more than make themselves comfortable. They made themselves useful.
When Tessa went down to check on the state of things shortly before Dursley’s arrival, she was astonished at the amount of industry taking place. The footman had set about the business of polishing the silver and was now arranging it in the glass-fronted storage cabinet. In another corner of the large room, the maid was assisting Mrs Hollister with the ironing. A pile of freshly laundered sheets already lay folded on a work table in testament to their efforts. What was more, Mrs Hollister had lost the cowed look she’d sported upon their arrival and was chatting amiably with the girl while they worked.
Mrs Hollister spotted her at the doorway and excitedly waved her over. ‘Miss Branscombe, Meg here knows a most effective recipe for getting food stains out of tablecloths.’ Such first-name familiarity was a bad sign.
Tessa forced a smile. ‘Lovely. Really, you didn’t have to go to all this effort, Meg.’
Meg beamed, taking Tessa’s comment as a compliment. Encouraged, Meg went on, ‘Of course we did. You’ve hardly unpacked. Arthur discovered the silver and the dishes still in their packing crates in the cellar. I have no idea what you’ve been eating off since your arrival. We decided at once we had to set the kitchen to rights. Mrs Hollister is just one woman. She can’t do everything.’ Meg smiled again, no doubt convinced she’d said just the right thing to prove her and Arthur’s efficiency.
Tessa reined in her temper. It wasn’t Meg and Arthur’s fault, after all. They were just doing what they’d been ordered to do. It was all Dursley’s fault they were here at all. Still, it didn’t help things that, while she’d been upstairs going over accounts, they’d been down here inventorying the household goods and deciding on their own she wasn’t living grandly enough to suit them.
In the month they’d been in London, she’d made no move to unpack the household goods they’d brought from Russia or the items that were stored in the home for the infrequent times her father had come to London. She’d decided to keep life simple and unpack only the basics.
After all, she and her sisters had spent the prior months in mourning, travelling and living plainly during the journey. They knew no one in London and had no intention at this time of formal entertaining, although the house was big enough to do so. Tessa supposed there would come a time when they might offer salons and dinners, but not yet, not now when they were still adjusting to their circumstances.
Tessa didn’t mind the practical nature of their lifestyle. Although, she had to privately admit that the sight of the well-polished silver service in the case looked magnificent and the elegant samovar she’d brought from Russia conjured up nostalgia for days past when they lived among the opulent surroundings of the St Petersburg court.
‘The pieces look lovely, Arthur.’
‘Thank you, miss. There’s plenty more in the cellar. I saw the labels on the crates. I can begin work on them tomorrow.’ Arthur rolled down his sleeves and put on his discarded coat bearing the Dursley livery in dark green and silver. ‘Since the Earl is due in a few minutes, I’ll post myself at the door for his arrival.’
It was said with perfunction and kindness. It was clear from his tone he didn’t mean to be high-handed. He only meant to please. Tessa hadn’t the heart to remind Arthur she was sending him and Meg home with Dursley.
Tessa offered a few instructions to Mrs Hollister about serving tea and turned to go. She wanted to be ready in the drawing room when Dursley arrived.
‘Miss Branscombe, don’t be too hard on the Earl. He did what he thought was best. Meg and Arthur are good folk,’ Mrs Hollister called after her. ‘It was good to have the extra hands today.’
In all fairness, Tessa supposed it was a boon to Mrs Hollister to have the help. Running the kitchen alone for four girls was work enough for one person, not counting the laundry and other sundry chores that cropped up on most days. Tessa did her part, too.
She wasn’t above shopping at the market or greengrocers or dusting furniture or changing sheets. After years of running her father’s household, she’d learned how to do for herself. She didn’t live an idle life while Mrs Hollister shouldered the lion’s share of the chores. She saw to her sisters’ lessons; when they weren’t studying, she saw to it that they helped out around the house as well. She wanted her sisters to be prepared for whatever circumstances life threw at them.
Diplomats’ daughters lived in an interesting half-world, not truly peers, but definitely a cut above the world of assistants, clerks and military officers. Some of her acquaintances married well, perhaps to a baron or a knight, and grabbed the bottom rungs of the peerage ladder. Others married merchants who’d engaged in lucrative import/export businesses. Others married clerks and assistants who had little in the way of money or family connections, but hoped to make their way in the diplomatic circles through hard work.
Now that she and her sisters were not part of that circle any longer, it was hard to know what kind of suitors they might encounter. Without their father, they were nothing more than four girls with only modest trust funds to recommend them and a respectable house in Bloomsbury. Tessa knew such dowries would limit suitors to the gentry. Dashing men with titles like Sergei Androvich would disappear from their palette of choices when the time came.
Tessa knew she should thank providence for the Earl of Dursley. His presence in their lives would provide a buffer from falling directly into obscurity. If she chose, she could use her Season to secure a match from among the ton and give her sisters a chance to make more advantageous matches than they could hope for otherwise.
Perhaps that was the very reason her father had chosen such a man to act as guardian. Such a rationale would explain much in regards to her father’s actions in choosing Dursley. Maybe her father had seen a chance to give his daughters a leg up in the world in case of his untimely demise. That sparked another thought. The date on the codicil of the will had been six months before her father’s death. A shiver went through Tessa. Maybe his demise hadn’t been so untimely after all.
She was contemplating these new thoughts when Arthur announced Dursley’s arrival with his aunt and ushered them into the drawing room.
The Earl nodded a dismissal to the footman with a proprietary ease that sat poorly with Tessa. Her earlier resentment over the Earl’s high-handed assumptions flared.
‘I hope Arthur and Meg have made themselves useful,’ the Earl said after introductions, taking a seat in one of the chairs across from the sofa. Dursley looked immaculate and handsome in buff breeches and a blue coat. His presence filled the room, masculine and powerful. Tessa thought another kind of woman would be quite intimidated. As it was, she was merely annoyed.
‘Yes, we must speak about that, my lord,’ Tessa began bluntly. ‘I do not recall asking for your assistance with my housekeeping needs.’
‘None the less, I ascertained those needs during my visit yesterday and hastened to address them,’ the Earl said easily, refusing to rise to an argument.
Tessa bristled at his smooth arrogance. He was quite sure of himself. He must walk over people’s feelings on a regular basis to have acquired such a superior skill.
‘I don’t want them here.’
The Earl favoured her with a chilly smile. ‘Ah, but, Miss Branscombe, it is my pleasure to have them here.’
‘The pleasure is not shared,’ Tessa shot back, momentarily forgetting the presence of the Earl’s Aunt Lily in the other chair. The regally coiffed woman gave a discreet cough at the hot rejoinder. Tessa had the good sense to apologise. ‘Pardon me, your Grace,’ she said swiftly to the Dowager Duchess, sure to imply that the Earl was not included in the apology.
‘Miss Branscombe, I think it would be wise to accept the offer of additional staff,’ the Dowager offered. ‘Life during the Season becomes hectic. One cannot see to all the little things as one usually might. The only way to survive is through competent staff. Additionally, it lends you an air of respectability, which, I dare say, you will need. Peyton tells me you went to the market on your own the other day. Those kinds of errands will have to stop or tongues will start to wag.’
Tessa studied the older woman. The Dowager Duchess was an attractive woman of middle years, blessed with stately height and a regal bearing. Her dark hair was streaked with the beginnings of grey, but it was unmistakably the same dark hair the Earl sported. The family resemblance ran strong between them. Tessa suspected the family tendency towards firmness ran strong as well. Aunt Lily showed all the signs of matching the Earl in forceful personality.
What the Earl’s aunt said made sense and it was hard to argue with the practical need for more staff, even if she had plenty to say about curbing outings to the market. Perhaps she could allow her pride to give way in this one matter. It served no purpose to turn away something she needed simply to spite the Earl. ‘Perhaps you’re right, your Grace. I will need the extra help in weeks to come.’ Tessa turned to the Earl. ‘I would prefer that you consult with me in the future before making decisions about my household.’
‘I shall do my utmost to remember that.’ The Earl nodded.
The rest of the visit passed more smoothly. The Earl’s aunt was formidable, but likeable, with her straightforward opinions, and Tessa found her easy to get along with over tea. They talked about the upcoming Season and Lily’s plans to get Tessa to a dressmaker post-haste the next afternoon. After tea, Tessa gave them a tour of the house, at Lily’s request, including an introduction of her sisters. Lily wrung a gasp of sheer delight from Eva by announcing a visit to the dressmaker was in order for them as well as Tessa.
The Earl was silent, trailing the two women through the house without a word or comment. Tessa had half-expected him to be articulating lists of changes as they went. But he didn’t have to say anything in order to make himself heard. Tessa’s nerves were fully primed by the time she showed them the last room in the house, the small music room. It had seen little use and by the time they’d arrived there, she had begun to see the house through the Earl’s eyes.
He didn’t have to run a finger across the top of the pianoforte for her to be keenly aware of the thick layer of dust the instrument sported. He hadn’t had to comment on the state of the faded striped curtains in the dining room for her to realise they might be outmoded. In her urge to settle into a quiet life, she had not noticed such things. To her, the house had been respectable, and for a middle-class family of some means, it probably was. Still, she found herself making subtle apologies as they returned to the sitting room.
‘We’ve only been in town a month. We are still settling in,’ she said. ‘A good dusting will set quite a lot of it to rights.’
Lily smiled in sympathy. ‘Whatever dusting and beeswax can’t mend, Dursley’s purse can. I can suggest several decorators to you.’
‘My purse, you say?’ The Earl cocked a challenging eyebrow at his aunt, who merely grinned.
‘You’re the guardian responsible for this house and its occupants, are you not, Dursley?’ Lily had the audacity to wink at Tessa. The Earl’s features clouded and Tessa fought back a laugh. She saw Lily’s ploy in all its glory.
The scolding Lily had sent him was a subtle slap on the wrists. If he was going to play lord of the manor by placing servants here without Tessa’s approval and lay claim for the responsibility of the house, he would have to do so on all levels. Lily wasn’t going to let him pick and choose which responsibilities he shouldered. He would shoulder them all or none of them.
‘Aunt, make your plans with Miss Branscombe about tomorrow’s outing. I need a word with Arthur before I go,’ Dursley deftly excused himself.
‘Thank you,’ Tessa said after the Earl had left.
Lily waved such thanks away with her hand. ‘It was nothing. My nephew can be stiff-necked at times, but he means well. Often, he has reasons for what he does that aren’t always clear to us at the time. I have learned to trust him and you will too. Between us, we’ll see you married and settled into a good situation by autumn. Dursley knows who would suit and who would not. He won’t let you be snatched up by the wrong sorts.’
‘I don’t intend to marry,’ Tessa said quickly. The sooner her new chaperon had that idea fixed in her mind, the better.
Lily patted her hand, dismissing the statement. ‘That’s what you say now. Wait and see. You can always change your mind.’
Dursley returned to escort his aunt to the carriage waiting at the kerb. As she was leaving, the Dowager Duchess said, ‘Until tomorrow, Miss Branscombe. Thank you for a delightful afternoon.’
The Earl added his thanks. ‘Good day, Miss Branscombe.’
‘Good day, Lord Dursley,’ Tessa said, trying out his name for the first time. It seemed silly to keep thinking him as ‘the Earl’. He was going to be a fixture in their lives. She might as well give the fixture a name.
Chapter Five
Peyton sat with Brimley at White’s, more relaxed than he had been the evening before. He felt much better now that Arthur was stationed at the Branscombe house. Anyone contemplating a break-in would think twice with a strapping man like Arthur on the premises. He told Brimley as much as they drank evening brandies in a quiet corner. The club was nearly empty; most people had headed out for the evening entertainments.
‘I’ll have a chance to look around tomorrow,’ Peyton said. ‘Aunt Lily is taking Miss Branscombe to the modiste’s and the girls go to the park with Mrs Hollister in the afternoons.’
‘Do you really think the list is here?’ Brimley asked.
Peyton nodded. ‘I think the sudden presence of certain Russians in the city confirms it. What other reason could there be for a diplomat of Count Androvich’s background to be in London? Who better than a family friend to ferret out family secrets? After all, we’re doing precisely the same thing, only we had to fabricate the family friend in me. The Czar had a legitimate one to send.’
‘Maybe he could not bear to be parted from Miss Branscombe,’ Brimley hypothesised. ‘They are old friends.’
The idea that Count Androvich might carry a tendre for Miss Branscombe sat awkwardly with Peyton. ‘It’s hardly practical to wait until the object of one’s affections journeys a thousand miles before declaring one’s intentions.’
Brimley shrugged, enjoying the debate. ‘Love isn’t practical.’
Peyton laughed. ‘Love isn’t, but Miss Branscombe is, I assure you. I can’t believe Miss Branscombe would waste her time on a trans-European romance. She would have settled the matter before she left St Petersburg.’ The surety of his own declaration gave him pause. He’d thought as much about Tessa Branscombe as he had the location of the list lately, a sure testimony that she’d started to get under his skin. Such a feat was a novelty all of its own. He seldom allowed himself to be attracted to anyone so quickly. In this case, he wasn’t convinced he’d ‘allowed’ anything to happen at all, it simply had.
He’d only known Tessa Branscombe for a couple of days, but he felt certain his analysis of her situation was correct. This transition point in her life would have been the perfect time to accept an offer from Androvich. She could have settled down with a wealthy count and avoided the turmoil of her recent upheaval.
