Grenville 02 - Lord John's Dilemma (14 page)

“He’s not my favorite person, and the buildings are in terrible condition, but he is willing to sell them to us at a fair price.”

John thanked both of them for their efforts. They discussed the amount of money they would need to buy the property and refurbish it, John putting forth his idea that the men who would be living there might be asked to help in the reconstruction. They agreed to meet at the property the following day in order to survey it and get a better idea exactly what they were dealing with.

It was very good to see his comrades, and when their business was finished, they discussed more personal subjects.

“I am still looking into the mystery of the supposed Miss Haverley,” John told Tompkins. He explained the situation to Stowell before continuing. “I know for certain her name is not Haverley, and apparently she has changed it for a reason to do with her safety. I know that you know of or about most of the gentry in Kent. Have you ever heard of a little lady, perhaps only four foot ten inches or so, with flaming red hair, of about twenty years old? She had a brother who served on the Peninsula as a lieutenant who was killed about a year and a half ago. Her parents are deceased.”

Tompkins moved away from the table and looked steadily at his plate in contemplation. “She sounds fairly distinctive,” he said. “As it happens, I have known most of the officers who have served from Kent, and I know all of them who have died in service, I believe. I would know if any of them had left an orphaned sister. The rest of us would have seen to her needs. I know of no such lady as you describe.”

“I suspected as much,” said John. “I don’t believe she is from Kent after all.”

Stowell asked, “A bit of a beauty, is she?”

“In a very quiet, very understated way, I suppose. But it is not that which interests me. She is a game little thing, obviously caught in bad circumstances, but very sunny natured in spite of it. I like her.”

“And what about the beauty next door?” Tompkins asked. “Have you decided to offer for her?”

“The more I think on it, the more I am inclined not to. She prefers London. I intend to make my life in the country. And eventually, I shall be in Nottinghamshire, not even near to her family.”

He was surprised to hear himself so decided. Evidently, he had made up his mind since coming to London. He disliked the coal haze, the dirt, but most of all the idleness of his class. If he had been the earl, he could have made a life for himself in politics, but that was up to Alex, who had taken up his seat in the House of Lords.

John and his friends parted ways with an agreement to meet in the East End at their future property the following afternoon.

Two days later, his business in hand in London, he set out for Nottinghamshire. He was becoming very anxious to see his future estate. He remembered the house as being a very attractive Tudor-style mansion set upon a hill in a small wood with a commanding view of a lake. It was difficult for him to perceive himself as a man of property when his whole life long, he had imagined he would be a soldier, rising in the military. His aim had been to become a general. What a different life this was going to be!

He tried to feature himself with a wife and children, but it was almost impossible when he had no wife to hand. And how was he to meet one unless he went to London?

{ 16 }

M
r. Aldershott received Delia, Lady Grenville, and Lady Anabella the next afternoon in The Elms, five miles distant from Grenville Manor. As the latter had said, he was a short man, but Delia was interested to see that he had a very kind face. Though they had told her he was near forty, his face was lined with grief. His brown eyes were sad but gentle.

He invited them through to his morning room, which had been decorated by a cheerful hand in yellow chintzes and contained, of all things, a monkey.

“Meet Stefano, my dear wife’s creature,” he said. “I am afraid he misses her dreadfully.”

The animal climbed onto his owner’s back and peeked at the visitors over his shoulder. Delia could not help grinning at him. She had never seen a monkey before.

“My dear Andrew, how do you get on?” asked Lady Grenville.

“One day at a time,” he said.

“This is Miss Delia Haverley, and I am certain you remember my sister-in-law, Lady Anabella Caldwell, from London. Miss Haverley, this is Mr. Aldershott, who, as I explained, but recently lost his wife.”

Delia stepped forward and offered a hand for him to shake. “I am dreadfully sorry to hear of your loss, Mr. Aldershott. I understand you have a young daughter?”

“Yes. Clarissa. She is with my sister at the moment, doing her morning reading. I understand you have also heard of Mary’s injury?”

“Yes. It seems your family has suffered greatly in the last little while.”

“Please sit down, ladies.”

Delia shared a sofa with Lady Grenville. Lady Anabella sat next to the fireplace, across from Mr. Aldershott.

He continued, “Yes. And Mary grows weaker the longer she is abed. She has no desire to try to walk with a crutch. She says the pain is extreme. I am afraid her days of being able to school my daughter are approaching an end. I really cannot expect it of her, and never should have, but she wanted to continue.”

“My mother had a painful fall the year before she died. She, too, was confined to bed,” said Delia. Mr. Aldershott gave a sad smile. “We are compelled to go through many things in the vale of tears.”

Many replies leapt to Delia’s mind, but she kept them to herself. Anything she might say at this juncture would be too familiar. “Tell me about Stefano,” she said. “How did he come to live with you?”

“He was a gift to my wife from her brother, who was serving on the Peninsula. He picked him up in some Spanish town where he had been left to starve on the streets.”

The monkey peered over his master’s shoulder again and then bounded to the floor and straight up to Delia’s shoulder. She laughed and peered at his funny little face. “You are a friendly fellow!”

He issued a spate of squawking into her ear and she raised a hand to pet him.

“I think he’s taken a liking to you, Miss Haverley. That means that Clarissa would like you, too. I understand you are a governess. Would you care to meet my daughter?”

“I would like to, very much.”

Mr. Aldercross rang for his butler and requested Clarissa’s presence.

“Has she had a great deal of trouble adjusting to Madeleine’s death?” asked Lady Grenville.

“Yes,” said Mr. Aldershott. “She barely speaks. She does not wish to go anywhere. And she does not sleep well. Her only friend these days is Stefano.”

“I am sorry to hear that, Andrew,” said Lady Grenville. “It must be very worrying. However, I can attest to Miss Haverley’s sunny disposition. I have it on very good authority that she can charm the birds from the trees.”

Delia blushed. Only Major Lambeth could have made such a statement. It certainly did not come from Lady Lindsay!

When Clarissa entered the room, she refused to look up but ran straight to her father, evidently recognizing him by his shoes. Climbing onto his lap, she buried her head in his shoulder. Stefano immediately leapt to her and began nuzzling her neck. She caressed the monkey with her hand.

Delia took in the girl’s appearance at a glance—small for her age, blonde, with delicate features and brown eyes like her father.

“I am Miss Haverley,” she said in a gentle voice. “I have been making friends with your monkey.”

Stefano chattered and began to play with Clarissa’s hair, which was done up in ringlets.

“He does not like very many people,” she said in a small voice.

“What is it like to own a monkey?” the governess asked.

For the first time, the girl looked at her, keeping her head on her father’s shoulder. “We like to play dress-up, but he will not sit still for tea.”

Delia laughed gently. “I would have liked to have had a monkey. Does he get into lots of trouble?”

Clarissa sat up straight. “Yes. He makes a terrible mess in the schoolroom. And he swings on the chandeliers. Papa says he thinks they are trees. We have to keep them covered when we are not using them.”

Mr. Aldershott said, “We have a small indoor tree in the schoolroom, but he ate all the leaves, so it is quite bare.”

“That is where he sleeps,” said Clarissa. “Sometimes he hangs by his tail.”

Lady Anabella said, “I know a lady in London who has a very large tortoise. Do you know what that is?”

“It is a big turtle that lives on land,” said Clarissa.

“What a very intelligent child you are,” said Lady Grenville.

Lady Anabella went on, “She calls it Henry Five, after one of the kings of England. And do you know what else?”

“What?” asked Clarissa, her shyness completely gone.

“She collects beetles!” said Lady Anabella. “Hundreds of beetles.”

Delia laughed. “You must be speaking of Lady Susannah Braithwaite. Even I have heard of her.”

Lady Grenville stood, signifying the end to their visit. “Thank you so much for coming down to see us again and to meet Miss Haverley,” she said. “We must go home to luncheon now.”

Delia walked over to the little girl and solemnly shook her hand. “I have enjoyed meeting you and Stefano. I think you are a very lucky girl to have such an unusual pet.”

“You have beautiful hair,” said Clarissa. “I wish I had red hair.”

“We all want what we do not have,” said Delia. “Here I have always wanted blonde hair like yours.”

“Really?”

“Really. I think the fairy princesses all have blonde hair, Clarissa.”

To her surprise, the girl gave her an impulsive hug. Delia hugged her back. What a difference between this child and the Lindsay girls!

“I think that went very well,” said Lady Grenville on the carriage ride home. “I was watching Mr. Aldershott and I could see his expression relax the longer Clarissa spent speaking to you, Miss Haverley.”

“She is a very sweet child,” Delia said.

To their discomfort, they found that Lady Lindsay and the Misses Lindsay had called in their absence.

“Oh dear,” said Delia.

“Never mind, dear. “I know how to handle Lady Lindsay very well. It often comes in handy, being a countess.”

“Yes,” said Lady Anabella. “Felicity can look down her nose very well. And Lady Lindsay just happens to be shorter than she is.”

{ 17 }

D
uring John’s ride north from London to Nottinghamshire, he found himself thinking about Miss Haverley. She was surely not from Kent. She had as much as admitted she was not a Haverley, and, if Leticia was to believed, she owned a fortune in jewels. But these things were only part of what he knew.

What he
really
knew about her was that she had experienced a very happy, inventive childhood with a brother she had loved and lost. Her brother had been a gentleman and had attended Oxford. She hunted. She enjoyed the company of children and was apparently adventurous, or she would never have embarked upon her present career under false pretenses. He had the impression that she knew her own mind and would not suffer fools. On the heels of that thought came the knowledge that her days in the employ of Lady Lindsay were therefore probably numbered. Unless she was very desperate to remain hidden in the wilds of Lincolnshire, he didn’t think she would last long being obedient to a pretentious and silly woman.

The thing that stuck with John most, however, was how she had felt in his arms, both when they had danced together and when he was rescuing her from the lake. Miss Haverley was delicate, but she stirred something vital within him that hadn’t yet been touched by any other woman. He felt protective of her. He wanted her dreams to prosper. And on a purely physical level… yes, he wanted very much to kiss those lips, that magnolia white skin, and particularly her shy little dimple. He wanted to lose his hands in that vivid, abundant hair.

Even among that field of daisies, they had danced together as smoothly as though they had been in a ballroom. Her small hand fit into his as though it belonged there, and his other hand had spanned half her tiny waist.

Though she was delicate of body, she was firm of mind. It struck him suddenly that he could never settle for Marianne Lindsay while Miss Haverley was about. And, of course, that presented a dilemma for as long as he remained living in Lincolnshire. If he were to uncover Miss Haverley’s true identity and
marry
her, the entire Grenville family would be shunned by their neighbors. His wife would be a particular target of animosity.

Startled, he realized he was actually daydreaming about
marriage to Miss Haverley.
He didn’t even know her real name. He didn’t know why she had found it necessary to masquerade as a governess.

But one area of his life was now decided. He could not marry Miss Lindsay. In fact, he wondered why he had ever even considered it. Probably because until he spent time in Miss Haverley’s cheerful company, he had not realized what he wanted in a wife.

John arrived at Sherwood Hill, his new bequest, during sunset. The front of the mansion faced west and glowed in the mellow light. He was glad to see the grounds well-kept. He rounded the lake in order to come to the front entrance. The house was half-timbered in blue-painted wood, the stones of the house grayish white.

An exceedingly tall butler with a high forehead and long nose met him at the door.

“Lord John Lambeth to see Lord Cosgrove,” he said, extending his visiting card.

His portly uncle met him in a dark-paneled hall that was surrounded with ancient suits of armor.

“John! Oh my good heavens, you look splendid!” He folded his nephew into a healthy embrace. However, John did not miss the fact that his uncle’s eyes were clouded with tears.

“It is good to see you as well, Uncle. I am terribly saddened by the circumstance of my cousin’s death, however.”

“He was a good boy, a good boy.” The man blew his nose heartily. “Come, come. You have had a long journey from London and we have much to discuss. I imagine you want to change out of your traveling clothes. I have put you in the guest suite, overlooking the lake. Benson, my butler, will show you upstairs. Then you must meet me in my library for a glass of claret and we can get caught up with all the family news.”