Emily Hendrickson (21 page)

“Well,” Juliet said, casting a reproving look at her errant stepbrother, “I am supposed to open that fete so I will leave you now.”

“I believe I shall go with you,” Alexander said promptly. “You chaps will join us?”

The three men, for Taunton had joined them to see the Shelfords off, ail nodded with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

So it was that the five of them, Juliet and Alexander in one carriage, Harry, Marius, and Taunton in another, traveled the short distance to the village green.

It was a typical village celebration, with home-brewed ale flowing freely, fresh-baked cakes and biscuits a-plenty, and children and dogs running everywhere.

“We wish to thank his lordship for the repairs to the church roof,” Parson Richards said with a nod toward Alexander. “And we are most grateful for the new baptismal font donated by Lady Hawkswood, the old one having succumbed to worms.”

There was gentle laughter from a few; the others merely looked polite.

Juliet stepped forward, said her little bit, then retired to sit with Alexander.

“Are we supposed to stay here and not have any fun?” she murmured behind her fan.

“I rather think so. I fear if we join them, we might spoil the day,” Alexander replied thoughtfully.

“Rubbish,” Juliet said briskly. “I intend to buy a few ribands, perhaps a nosegay, certainly a few sweets.”

“Then I shall come along and see what is to be found.”

Alexander assisted her from the shallow platform and walked at her side through the milling crowd. Farmers had taken the day to come to town, bringing their families and workers with them. People from neighboring villages had joined in as well. It was a happy day for all.

“What a good thing Camilla has gone,” Juliet said. “She would have had all the charm of a bucket of cold water, looking down her lovely nose at the locals. I suspect she would have managed to offend them all by the end of the day.”

“I must celebrate my freedom from Camilla in a suitable way,” Alexander teased, his dark eyes merry.

“Hm, let me see, perhaps a new watch fob, or an elegant cane? I see a very nice whip over there. One can never have too many whips, can one?” she asked pertly.

“Do not tempt me, minx. I shall think of something presently. Now for your ribands and frippery.”

Alexander helped her select several ribands, insisting she must have at least one to match her eyes. Then he found a pretty nosegay for her. The sweets were easy, offered at every turn.

He paid for a sack of sweets, then popped a piece of toffee in her mouth. “That ought to keep you occupied for a time, my dear.” With that, he strode off to join Harry Riggs, and the two men were in laughing conversation in no time.

“It was ever so, my lady,” Mrs. Ogleby said at her side. “The gentlemen indulge us for a bit, then go off to enjoy themselves. I understand two of your guests have departed this morning?”

“Indeed. The house is far more peaceful with them gone. I cannot say I was pleased to have them.”

“Perhaps I ought not say so, but I found them to be a very haughty sort.”

Juliet smiled and replied, “My stepbrother gave Mrs. Shelford a rousing defense of me last evening. I doubt she will ever recover
from
being called
madam
in that manner.”

“Goodness!” Mrs. Ogleby paused to contemplate the scene and chuckled. “Lucy Tackley enjoyed her evening at any rate. I doubt she will ever forget your kindness.”

“How do you think Lord Taunton will fare? My stepbrother complains that he has become a dull dog. He is a far cry from the man I
...
” Juliet hesitated, then realized she could not reveal Marius’s plans in that direction. “I first knew.”

“Mrs. Tackley wrote and received a reply to the effect that while he has been a rather wild young man, the right sort of gel might well be the making of him. He’s not poor, yet not rich, the sort of man who might ignore a lack of background if the chit had a proper dowry.”

“And he is besotted with her,” Juliet added when the pair in question came into view.

“That, as well. We shall see how it goes. ‘Tis all well and good to talk, but what counts is the ring on the finger,” Mrs. Ogleby concluded with a sage nod.

Juliet agreed a trifle stiffly, then made her excuses. There was no way she could remain in this dear village if Alexander left her. She’d not need to explain; they wouldn’t expect such from her. But life would be extremely difficult. She would have to locate another village far from here.

“Come now, only smiling faces allowed today,” Alexander teased. “See my purchase.”

“A book?” she said with great surprise.

“Indeed—a book, my dear, of poetry.”

Chapter 12

The fete was pronounced a great success by one and all. The villagers particularly enjoyed seeing those from London enter into the spirit of the day. It pleased everyone—especially the gratified Tackleys—to see Lord Taunton show such marked attentions to Lucy, who was a great favorite among the locals.

Marius and Harry Riggs went back to the manor first, claiming they intended to do a bit of late-day fishing. Lord Taunton, dull dog that he’d become, escorted Lucy wherever she pleased to go and remained in the village.

“I suppose we are free to leave now,” Juliet said wistfully. She hadn’t had such fun in ages. Miss Pritchard had claimed it unladylike for Juliet to mingle with the villagers near Winterton Hall.

“I doubt anyone expects us to remain until the very last. Come, we can ride back now if you are tired. Besides, I would like to see how Lumpkin is faring with the arbor.”

Juliet eyed the book of poetry tucked beneath Alexander’s arm and nodded thoughtfully. She allowed him to hand her up into the carriage, waved farewell to those she had come to know, then sat in silence on the brief ride to the manor house.

Pounding could still be heard as they entered through the modest brick gates. “Lumpkin must still be at it,” Alexander said with a quick frown. He guided his horses up the graveled drive, then halted before the house. While he assisted Juliet from the carriage, his groom came running from the stables, prepared to take over the carriage and horses.

Juliet admired the scene before her, wondering how long she could remain here. The brick house gave such a feeling of solidity and welcome. It was a friendly house, inside as well as out, with sparkling windows and fine trim. Now that she had restored the gardens to their prime glory, the charming old house had a setting worthy of its design.

“Come with me,” Alexander said, interrupting her musings. “Shall we see what has been accomplished while we have been in Woodbury playing lord and lady of the manor?

“Playing, indeed,” Juliet replied. “I fear I left poor Mrs. Bassett with a dreadful lot to do.”

“Mrs. Bassett was likely thankful to have us all out of the way for the day.”

“I am sorry she missed the fete, though. I will give her a day off later to compensate,” Juliet said, allowing Alexander to take her hand, telling herself his help was quite necessary over the roughly scythed grass.

When they reached the garden, the arbor was found to be well along. Mr. Lumpkin pounded in a few more nails, then stood back to view the finished creation.

“Ye want it painted, or is it to weather?” the older man inquired with a frowning look from beneath his worn cap.

“I wish it painted green,” Alexander said. “Leaf green.” He turned to Juliet, a gleam in his eyes, “I am particularly fond of leaf green.”

She couldn’t help but smile at that bit of nonsense and walked back to the house in great charity with him.

Once inside, she left Alexander to his own devices, seeking out Mrs. Bassett to discover how things had gone while Juliet frittered her time away at the fete.

“Everything looks in fine shape,” she told the housekeeper while inspecting the drawing room. It was as though they had not been subjected to the visit from the aggravating Shelford women, and no sign of the men could be noticed.

Upstairs, Juliet found all the guest rooms neat and ready for another round of company. She studied the room where Camilla had been housed and turned to Mrs. Bassett to comment, “I hope it will be a while before we have guests again. It might be pleasant, but wearing, assuredly for you, Mrs. Bassett.”

“There are guests and there are guests. The men are no trouble at all. ‘Tis the women who are a bother, most often. However, with the extra help it has gone smoothly, I believe.” The housekeeper gave the last room they checked a satisfied smile when Juliet exclaimed over the pretty flowers on a small table near the window.

“I am glad I have you to run the house. What would become of the place were you not here, I cannot imagine.”

“Well, enjoy the peace for the moment. When those men return from their fishing and Lord Taunton comes back from courting Miss Tackley, ‘twill be busy again.”

Juliet took her advice and returned to the drawing room to practice a piece on the harp. She was still there when she heard the sound of an approaching carriage.

She flew to the window, curious to see who it might be. She doubted Mrs. Ogleby or Mrs. Tackley would come this late in the afternoon. Perhaps Lord Taunton, finished with squiring Lucy about, returned to the house?

Instead of a familiar carriage, a large traveling coach lumbered into view. The four matched chestnuts looked worn to a flinder, and the coach was covered in dust, telling Juliet it had come some distance.
Now
who descended upon them? she wondered.

The coach drew to a halt before the doors, and when Mrs. Bassett went to great the personage arriving, Juliet was stunned to see the coach door open to reveal an older woman stepping down—an older woman who looked remarkably like Alexander.

While her hair appeared to be laced with white, she was slim, regal, and dressed in the very latest fashion. From the respectful curtsy bestowed by Mrs. Bassett, Juliet feared the worst. The dowager had come to visit. She prayed Alexander would have heard the arrival of the coach and come to investigate.

“Grandmother,” he said from where he paused in the doorway. “Best come and try not to look too overwhelmed. If she thinks you are afraid of her, she will turn into a terror. Rather, shower her with affection; she won’t know what to make of you.”

Juliet gave him a nervous smile. It was all well and good for him to talk about showering that formidable-looking woman with affection—he was her grandson. It was quite another matter to pass inspection as the wife of said grandson, especially when they were not really married! How could they manage to pretend to be wed under such scrutiny?

She went to the entryway, intent upon greeting their most unwelcome guest. Nervous and apprehensive, she smoothed down her dress, patted her wisp of a cap into place, and wondered what Cook could whip up for a special dinner. Then a horrible thought struck like lightning.

“What if she asked to see the marriage lines?” Was it possible to fake a Gretna license? Juliet had never seen one, hadn’t the slightest idea of what one looked like, and furthermore didn’t know if her ladyship knew about them, either. “Oh, bother,” she whispered to herself.

One could only hope for the best. For the very first time, Juliet prayed for more company.

“Alexander, my dear boy, when I had the news I decided not to wait for you to come to me for a visit. I elected to please myself and come here first. How lovely of you to prefer my gift to you for your little honeymoon house,” the dowager said as she entered the manor that was anything but little in Juliet’s estimation.

The dowager’s voice was pleasing, somewhat throaty and rich like treacle. Her dark eyes, so like Alexander’s, pinned Juliet in her steps. “Your wife, Alexander? Introduce me.”

“Grandmother, Juliet Barr, Viscountess Hawkswood, my wife,” Alexander pronounced so proudly that Juliet felt a sting of tears in the back of her eyes. Would that it was true! Juliet dipped a court curtsy, then walked over to bestow a light kiss on the smooth cheek.

“Mrs. Tackley wrote that Juliet’s father is Viscount Winterton. I understand he is off in Russia on some fool errand for the government. Is that correct, girl?”

“Indeed, my lady. I have missed him these years he has been gone,” which was nothing but the truth, at last
.

“I daresay you have. And this grandson of mine came along to sweep you off your feet and to a Gretna wedding. Badly done, Alexander. This young lady deserved a wedding in Town at the very least, not some ramshackle dash to the border.” The look of disdain she gave Alexander would have done in a lesser man.

Juliet didn’t know what to say to the dowager other than to attempt to reply in some manner to at least part of those outrageous remarks. “He swept me off my feel, my lady, and continues to delight me with his thoughtfulness.”

Her ladyship nodded regally as though that was only to be expected of the current Viscount Hawkswood.

The dowager strolled along through the entryway, looking every direction, then into the drawing room, again with a gaze that seemed to take in every detail.

“My harp!” she said with discovery. “You play the harp, Juliet?” The dowager inspected the music on the stand, looking to Juliet for confirmation with the most bland of expressions. There was no hint as to whether she was pleased or annoyed.

“I was just practicing when you arrived,” Juliet said modestly.

“We play duets together, Grandmother. I felt certain you would approve.” Alexander crossed the room to drape an arm about Juliet’s shoulders, a source of comfort indeed.

The dowager turned to give him a searching look, but said nothing.

“Dinner will be shortly, but perhaps you would welcome a cup of tea,” Juliet suggested, wondering how she might convey to Mrs. Bassett that dinner had to be more than special. Alexander’s arm appeared to be pinning Juliet to his side, and it would raise eyebrows were she to wrest herself away to leave the room. After all, she was supposed to be a devoted new wife.

“If I know Grandmother, she will wish a cup of her special blend. Mrs. Bassett will have it here shortly.”