Ambersley (Lords of London) (17 page)

Rory recalled the bucket brigade they had started. “We couldn’t get the water fast enough. It was windy, and smoke billowed everywhere. That’s when I saw the ghost of Miss Amber.”

A hush fell over his listeners, and Mrs. North murmured a brief prayer.

Rory continued his story while Johnny listened, enthralled. She’d heard the tale dozens of times over the years, but it always made shivers race across her skin. She noticed Martha’s fingers nervously tapping the base of her candle and reached her arm around the older woman’s fat waist to comfort her. Martha always grew weepy over the thought of Miss Amber’s death.

Tom glanced over the lanky fourteen-year-old Johnny. Her short-cropped chestnut curls were swept forward into what he’d been told was a Brutus cut, and she’d mastered the neat folds of many neck cloth arrangements to hide her slim throat. He knew—because Martha had shared with him—that Johnny had started getting her monthly flux, and he’d helped Martha shred their second best sheets to bind Johnny’s budding breasts. It would never do for everyone to discover at this late date that he and Martha had been harboring Miss Amber for all of ten years.

From the Hall’s large drawing room, Rosalie looked out over the flickering candles in the front driveway and barely suppressed a bored sigh. The high point of the Season, and she was still at Ambersley. She glanced sidelong at Derek, who stood at the next window watching the scene in the drive. She’d like to blame him for keeping her here, but this time it was Curtis’s fault. One lark too many during his first year at Oxford, and the dons had rusticated him until the Michaelmas term.

She couldn’t monitor Curtis in London. No, he’d give her the slip and be off with any number of his young friends, none of whom she trusted. Better to keep him here in the country. And perhaps it was time Curtis came to know his stepbrother better. After all, Curtis was now eighteen. Soon he’d be taking over Ambersley.

True to her expectations, she hadn’t been able to budge Derek from his role as duke once he had his fingers in the Vaughan family fortune. Trapped with him in this hellish masquerade, she watched his expenditures as closely as he watched hers. His settlement of a generous allowance mollified her somewhat, and when he granted her leave to come and go at will to any of the family properties, she decided she could bide her time longer.

Stepping back from the window, she addressed her stepson. “Shall I ring for some port?”

Derek raised a brow at her. “The servants are all outside.”

Her shoulders sagged at this reminder. “Of course.”

“
It was kind of you to allow Curtis and Olivia to attend.” Derek motioned her to the divan.

“
They have so little to enliven their days” She seated herself with a sigh and watched as he moved about the room restlessly. “Did you wish to join them, or didn’t Paget invite you?”

“
Oh, he asked, but I never knew Cyril or Dianna Vaughan. I felt the staff should have a private memorial.”

“
Of course.” She pursed her lips. Apparently, she was the only person on the property who hadn’t been invited. “You’re so considerate of all of them.”

He stopped to look at her, but she felt confident that she’d veiled the sarcasm well enough.

“
I’ve been thinking about Johnny,” he said.

Rosalie tilted her head, immediately alert. “Indeed?”

“
I’m setting aside some money for him. It’s clear to look at him that he’s Cyril’s…son. I believe his father would have done something for the lad.”

Throughout Derek’s speech, she had to forcibly maintain her calm demeanor. Twice she had to uncurl her fingers from the pillow near at hand. That urchin was constantly underfoot, and Derek openly doted on him. Clearly, he preferred Johnny’s company to that of his own brother, but how
dare
he throw money away on that worthless by-blow?

Pushing aside her frustration, she sniffed. “You spoil that lad, Your Grace.” She drew Derek’s attention by introducing a better topic. “I wonder if I might ask your help with Curtis.”

“
What trouble is he in now?”

“
No trouble, nor does he need money.” She withdrew a handkerchief from her sleeve. The white linen against her lavender silk gown looked quite nice as she laced it artfully between her fingers.

“
Then what does he need?” Derek asked more kindly.

She looked at him over the back of the divan. “He’s become a man, overnight it appears. I hardly know him anymore, and he won’t confide in me the way he once did. He needs guidance, but I…well, this is something I cannot do for him.”

He contemplated her words while she held her breath. Finally, he said, “I could show him the breeding operation and some of the colts we’re training.”

“
Yes, anything to occupy his mind so he won’t look for trouble while he’s here. All he wants is a little of your time.”

“
I’ll do what I can.”

“
Thank you, Derek.” She smiled at the success of her ploy. She’d waited years for this day. Reggie’s debts were paid, as were hers. That Vaughan chit’s money was secured and the Hall repairs completed. Curtis was old enough to assume the role of duke, but young enough to be led by her. Yes, it was more than time. Curtis would be the next Duke of Ambersley.

Only one hurdle barred his path.

~

The following morning, Curtis strolled down the stairs for a late breakfast. Even with the hour approaching noon, he doubted his mother had roused yet. The last time he’d sought out Olivia this early in the day, Miss Trent had been teaching her rudimentary dance steps. He’d be damned if he’d suffer through another morning as dance partner to his childish sister.

He entered the dining room and stopped short at the sight of his half-brother seated at the head of the table. “What are you doing here?”

Derek set down his teacup with a frown. “I was hoping you’d join me for a ride, but perhaps today isn’t convenient.” He started to rise.

Curtis felt his face heat. He hadn’t meant to be rude. He’d always hoped his brother would notice him one day, and here he’d ruined it. “Wait. I’d like that. That’s—if you still have time.” He waited for the inevitable excuse.

“
I set aside the day.” Derek’s lips twitched. “Though I had no notion you’d sleep half of it.”

Curtis relaxed under the gentle ribbing. “I’m awake now. Shall we?”

Morning rides became their habit, first in silence, but as they became more familiar with each other, their conversation took on a natural flavor.

“
Mother wants to go to London before the Season ends,” Curtis shared one bright morning.

“
And what do you want?”

“
Me?” Expressing his own preferences was foreign to Curtis. “I never thought about it. Mother will just attend all the parties. I don’t much care for them, and Livvie’s too young.”

“
Would she leave you and Livvie here with me, do you think?”

Curtis rolled his eyes. “I doubt it. She always wants us with her, even when we drive each other mad.” They waded into a shallow stream and paused while the horses drank. “Do you ever miss Father?”

Derek’s back stiffened. “Why do you ask?”

Curtis shrugged. “He once told me the best I could aspire to would be to emulate you. He was always good and kind to me. I miss him.”

His brother stared off into the trees. “As do I.”

Curtis enjoyed the hours they spent, but all too soon, Derek left for Goodwood. Whether his brother didn’t want him to come or his mother had negated any invitation, Curtis didn’t know. He only knew he was left behind with little to do. All too often he was sent to retrieve Olivia. The tiresome chit was forever slipping away from her needlework to play in the sunshine. She had a particular penchant for that Bendicks urchin, which always put Curtis in a foul mood. In an attempt to curb her attentions to the servant, Curtis offered to teach her to ride.

Her eyes brimming with gratitude, she threw her arms around him. “Oh, yes!”

Curtis felt rather like a hero, which pleased him. He was still pleased the next morning as he waited for his sister to join him for their first lesson, until he discovered she’d disappeared again.

Biting back an oath, he strode to her favorite haunt, the rose garden. As he suspected, she was following Johnny while he weeded.

“
Curtis says he will teach me to ride. I’m thirteen now, you know.”

If the boy replied, Curtis couldn’t hear it as he approached.

“
Will you teach me about the greenhouses? Miss Trent said it would be unexceptional for me to learn to arrange flowers.”

“
If that’s what you wish, Lady Olivia.”

Fury engulfed Curtis. First this Bendicks brat had stolen Derek’s regard, and now Olivia had grown fascinated with him. The skinny youth had managed to usurp Curtis’s role with everyone here at Ambersley.

“
Livvie! Come here at once.”

Olivia giggled, in no way contrite. But she came to him immediately. “Johnny’s going to teach me about the greenhouses.”

“
We’ll discuss that later. Get along with you. I’ll be right after.”

Olivia glanced over her shoulder and waved farewell. Johnny didn’t dare return her regard, but he did make eye contact with Curtis.

Curtis stared him down. “Stay away from her.”

“
Yes, my lord.” Johnny cast his eyes back to the ground.

For a moment, Curtis wished he could bury the bastard.

~

After that, Johnny did her best to avoid Curtis. When the duke returned, she had to forego his company as Curtis was prone to shadow his elder brother. She tried to remember her place.
The likes of them and the likes of us don’t mix,
Rory had said all those years ago. The duke didn’t seem to have time for her anymore, which only made her feel worse.

Finished with her chores, the September afternoon’s refreshing breeze beckoned her to the meadow by the stream. She stretched out to capture the sun’s warmth, the smell of tall grass filling her senses. Dark clouds building along the tree line warned of an impending storm.

The clanging of the stable bell alerted Johnny, who ran to see how she could help. Before she rounded the final bend in the drive, she realized the dark clouds were caused by smoke, its acrid stench filling the air. When the stable came into view, it was ablaze.

Rory and Cushing, each leading two horses by their halters, yelled for the stable lads to look lively. A water brigade was already forming, and Tom was pumping the well. When someone shouted that the coach house wasn’t safe, Paget grabbed Mr. Pritchard by the arm, and the two set off to save the coaches.

In the midst of the mayhem, Johnny stood alone. Watching. Shaking. Unable to move. She didn’t know why.

Then she thought of the barn cat, forever raising her kittens in the harness room. In all this activity, no one would spare her a thought. Johnny judged the harness room was safe from the flames licking the sky above the hayloft. With a deep breath, she dashed into the stable and found her way to the harness room. The mother cat, carrying a mewling kitten by its scruff, squeezed herself between two loose boards into the next stall and scurried from sight. Johnny found two more crying kittens behind the barrel and bent to scoop them up.

The harness door slammed. She whirled around only to hear the bolt shoot home.

“
Hey!” she shouted. “Let me out! You’ve locked me in here!” Her breath hitched in panic as she threw her shoulder against the door, but only crackling answered her. Why would anyone close the door? She could
die
in here. Terrified by the prospect, she continued to shout until her lungs burned with smoke that grew thicker by the second.

Such a fire killed the duke and duchess.

Deep within her memory, images sparked to life. Johnny saw the upper west wing of Ambersley Hall, the many bedroom doors, until she opened the door to the duke’s bedchamber. Through the heavy smoke, she saw the duke and duchess in their bed. She tried to rouse them, but to no avail. Only, she wasn’t herself, she was their little girl.