Lady Harriet's Unusual Reward (3 page)

Chapter Four

They arrived in the townhouse on Curzon Street after much fuss. Lord Stephen had insisted on bringing around his carriage pointing out that being seen with him walking all the way along South Audley Street, then all the way along Curzon Street would cause no end of gossip, especially if Miss Callahan’s gown was prone to meet with accidents. He had said this in a way that suggested he was suspicious of the first accident. And Harriet could not really blame him.

“Mary, go to your room and change into your pink gown. We should get that gown mended properly. Tomorrow we shall go shopping and get you some new clothes—ones more befitting a ladies companion.”

“Yes, my lady.”

She curtseyed and scurried off.

“Harry, is that you?” William’s voice was loud and clear as he yelled from the study into the foyer. She rolled her eyes.

“I shall be with you presently, William,” she called delicately, enough to be heard but not loud enough to sound brash.

She shed her pelisse, bonnet and gloves and handed them to the butler along with her reticule. Her companion handed the servant his hat and gloves. She gestured in the direction of the study.

“Aye, Harry, this book talks about building a treehouse. We should do that. Then you cannot complain about me taking Mary to the barn to tup her.”

“William!”

They walked into the study to find William, his booted feet up on the desk and his nose in a book called “Great Wheezes for Young Gentlemen.”

“What? Honestly, Harriet, this says it is really easy and there is plenty of wood around the estate. Let us go home to Oldbeck and forget whatever nonsense you have planned for us here. You know I hate London.” His sentence ended on a childish whine.

“We are home and I have told you before not to use that word. It is impolite and not to be used, especially when we have a visitor.” Her last words came out on a hiss and William at last looked past her to Lord Stephen.

“Well how was I to know we had a visitor?”

“You should not be shouting that word around the house, William.” Honestly, her patience was as thin as lace at present.

She felt a hand on her elbow for just a second. It was reassuring and then it was gone as Lord Stephen walked farther into the room.

“Oldbeck, pleasure to meet you, old chap. It has been a long time. So sorry to hear about your father.”

“Ah yes.” William suddenly remembered himself and shuffled to his feet, bowing. “I am sorry, I…”

“Lord Stephen Charville, brother to the Duke of Halimead. It is all right. No one expects you to remember everyone. I appreciate you have been in mourning for your father and therefore out of society. My deepest condolences for your loss, my lord.”

“Thank you.” Stephen looked at Harriet and she gave him an encouraging smile. It was not often that anyone spoke to William as if he was a member of the peerage.

“So you have a young lady I hear.”

“Yes. Mary. She is beautiful and I love her.”

“I see. And while I do understand how you feel about her, I’m afraid the ladies just do not like such vulgar language in their presence. Genteel ladies like your sister and your lovely Mary should not have to hear words that the stable lads use. Ladies like to be wooed with the words of the poets. So my advice is keep the bawdy language for when you are among men, and even then, keep it to a minimum. Now, where’s the brandy?”

“Brandy?” Harriet had been impressed until that moment and the word came out like a washer-woman’s screech. “William does not drink brandy, your lordship. Please, do not lead him into bad habits and debauchery.”

Lord Stephen chuckled and looked at William.

“I am sorry, Oldbeck, do you mind if I step out and have a quick word with Lady Harriet? I shall make sure the butler returns with some brandy. Then perhaps we can go to White’s. Are you a member of any of the gentlemen’s clubs in town?”

“No.”

“Was your father?”

“He was a member of White’s.”

“Oh well, it is a family tradition. We would not want to break it, would we? Thank God. I am not sure I fancy Boodle’s or Brooks’.”

William laughed at that and Lord Stephen moved to leave the room. Harriet preceded him out, hurrying into the drawing room opposite. He seemed upset with her but it was she who should be upset with him. Introducing William to spirits was the last thing he should be doing. Look what havoc had been wreaked when he had discovered the fairer sex. God help her if William started getting foxed. There would be more than one maid in the town carrying his progeny.

“Harriet, it really is not proper for you to tell a peer of the realm what he can and cannot drink once he has reached his majority, now is it?”

“I… I beg your pardon!” She knew her mouth was gaping and she could not form a coherent sentence in her head. How dare Lord Stephen speak to her in such a manner? “My Lord, I beseech you…”

Lord Stephen’s chuckle was low and his eyes glinted with merriment.

“Tell me, my lady, how did you feel just then when I withdrew your title and scolded you?”

“I… My lord that was quite undignified.”

“Did you feel… oh I don’t know… like a little girl, still in the schoolroom being scolded?”

“A little.”

“Did you feel as if your place in society was worthless?”

“To an extent.”

“How many people call your brother Oldbeck?”

Harriet thought for a moment.

“None that I can think of.”

“Do you know how many people call me Stephen?”

“No.”

“My mother. And occasionally my sister-in-law when she is not completely vexed with me. For the most part I am Charville and my brother is Halimead. Only his wife, my mother and occasionally I call him Theo and even then only in private. Yet you think it is acceptable to call your brother William, even in front of a man who has a mere honorary title.”

“What are you trying to say, my lord?”

“I am trying to say that if you continue to treat your brother like a child, he will continue to act like a child, my lady.”

“But he thinks like a child,” she said, her tone urgent. Did he not understand?

“Perhaps. But he does understand that he should not speak in such a manner when ladies are around. He just wants to shock and vex you. You are correct. He does need a man around to look up to and to try to emulate. But, Lady Harriet, gentlemen drink brandy and spend time in gentlemen’s clubs. If I am going to teach Lord Oldbeck to be a gentleman, I shall do it correctly.”

“So you will marry me?”

He laughed and tipped her chin with his knuckle—a gesture that seemed rather familiar considering they hardly knew each other.

“Not so fast, my lady. You make a very tempting offer but I like my life as it is. I have my daughter and my space and no one to bother me. I do need a little information from you though. Where does one get gowns for a six-year-old girl and where does one find a governess?”

“Is this for Phoebe?”

“No, I was thinking of taking up the pianoforte and had decided that breeches and waistcoats were not my style after all.”

Harriet cocked her head to one side and considered him and his dry wit.

“I hear they require new players at Drury Lane, my lord. I am also informed that it is common for second sons to be bored and to consider a life on the stage. I think you would be well-suited.”

His mouth twitched and she knew she had matched him adequately.

“Clever and beautiful,” he murmured.

“I shall have the answer to both questions by the time you come back. I asked Mr Holroyd, our man of business, to find a governess who was willing to take on a… umm… well a charge who would be a little different… I mean Mary, and to school her in the ways of being a lady. Perhaps we could work together on this?”

“You mean my daughter and your maid?” His eyes opened wide and he looked aghast.

“I mean my companion and soon-to-be sister-in-law and your six-year-old daughter. Yes.”

“Is she likely to talk about tupping in front of my daughter?”

“Oh no. Mary is very polite. She gets very upset when William mentions it.”

“I see.” A smile spread across his lips. “Mary may get upset but Lady Harriet blushes whenever anyone says tupping.”

“You just told my brother that it is not the done thing to mention it in front of his sister.”

“I did, did I not? Shame really, because you become even more pretty when you blush.”

“My Lord, this is not appropriate.”

“I thought you wanted to marry me.”

“I do, but…” There was not really anything she could say to that. She had painted herself into this corner.

“Find a governess for Mary and Phoebe. It will do neither of them any harm to spend time with someone from out with their own social class. Do not meddle in how I handle your brother. He needs to become a man and a gentleman. He needs to know when to stand up for himself, when to back down, when to stand his ground, when to walk away and when it is appropriate to let a lady know he appreciates her.”

He tilted her chin again and captured her green gaze with his dark brown one. She was only vaguely aware of his warm hand wrapping around her fingers and lifting it to his lips, pressing it ever so softly to the warm mouth, holding it there for a scandalously long time, allowing his breath to caress her knuckles, Then he stepped back, let go of her hand and bowed courteously and respectfully as if nothing untoward had just taken place.

Her mind was like mashed potato and something was happening in the secret place between her legs which did not bear thinking about. She was hot and cold all at the same time. And he was gone, checking with the butler that he had delivered the brandy. Good grief! Was this a fit of the vapours she was having? She had never had one before, but she was all of a flutter.

Tea. She needed tea. It was the only cure. Mama had said it cured everything. Oh dear. What had she done—inviting this scoundrel into their lives?
Nothing good comes of second sons
. That’s what Great Aunt Agatha had always said. Perhaps she had been right. The man was a menace.

Oh, where was that tea? Oh, she had not rung for it. Oh, he had got her all hot and bothered. It was for the best he had refused her offer of marriage. It was becoming clear now.

Chapter Five

“Whittingham, may I introduce Oldbeck. Oldbeck, this is Whittingham. We shared a room at Eton together.”

“And a few other things if memory serves correctly,” drawled his friend, nodding at Oldbeck in a friendly manner, before raising an eyebrow so slightly at Stephen that only a close observer would notice. A miniscule shake of the head on Stephen’s part was met with a smile for their new friend. “Terribly sorry to hear about your father, Oldbeck. Will you be taking up his seat in the House?”

“I do not know. I was invited but we have not been to London since he died and…”

The poor fellow was getting flustered and looked to Stephen for help. Stephen gave him a reassuring grin and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Time enough for that yet, Oldbeck. Parliament is barely finished for the Season. We can discuss it some other time. What are you drinking, Whittingham?”

“Claret.”

The man called over a footman and ordered drinks for the two newcomers and Stephen indicated a seat for William and took another. William fidgeted and for the first time Stephen wondered if this had been a good idea.

“The weather,” Oldbeck said suddenly. Whittingham and Stephen both turned questioning looks on him. “Mama used to say when in company one should talk about the weather. And Harriet says not to mention tupping.” Whittingham roared with laughter, drawing a few gazes of older gentleman as Stephen slapped Oldbeck on the back and chuckled heartily. When Whittingham shakily laid his glass on a side table to stop himself from spilling it as he continued to hoot with mirth, William turned a concerned face to Stephen. “I made a mistake, did I not?”

“You certainly… did not!” spluttered their companion through his guffaws. “But your mother was wrong. When in the company of
ladies
you should talk about the weather but not in a gentleman’s club. God, you don’t want to bore us to death. Tupping is acceptable in a gentleman’s club but not around the older gentlemen. You don’t want to make them jealous.”

“Whittingham!” It was a warning shot. Whittingham was good fun and he was sure his friend had worked out exactly what was the issue with Oldbeck, and a bit of light teasing was fine. He just didn’t want Harriet’s brother ridiculed.

“Oldbeck knows I’m jesting. Your sister is right, man. Tupping is probably not the best discussion starter. A good rule of thumb, I always find is to let others start the conversation and find the topic, that way I stay out of the firing line. And that firing line is usually a hard swat on the arm with my mother’s fan. And bloody hell can that woman hit. Thank Christ they don’t teach women to fence. She would have me speared through the gut in seconds.”

“I would like to learn to fence,” said Oldbeck wistfully, his red eyebrows furrowing slightly. “And to dance.”

“You do not know how to dance?” Stephen asked, slightly horrified. But then the boy had been schooled at home. Had no one foreseen this moment when he would take up his earldom and need to come into society? Poor Harriet. No wonder the chit was at her wits’ end. And it really was not all because of Oldbeck’s behaviour. He just needed training. She had been left with a mess to clear up and no relatives upon whom she could lean.

“No.”

“Well, that is one thing we can sort easily enough. And we shall really need to get you some new clothes. Those are a tad out of fashion, and as for that waistcoat. Sorry, but you do look a bit of a dandy in it. Beau Brummel would be proud.”

“I used to be a dandy,” interjected Whittingham sulkily.

“Thank you for making my point for me. See, Oldbeck. You do not want to turn out like Whittingham. Imagine having Harriet whacking you at regular intervals with her fan.”

Oldbeck laughed. His laugh was loud and deep—too loud for the weak joke that Stephen had made, but the man’s face lit up and in that moment it was glaringly obvious that Oldbeck would be classed by society as an imbecile and would need protecting to some degree. The laugh had drawn a few haughty stares and Stephen stared straight back, daring comment or censure.

Stephen may be a nobody himself—the second son of a duke, being called lord merely as a courtesy but it made no difference. He would not let any gentleman, no matter his rank, look down their noses at a peer of the realm for laughing too loudly. They had all acted more foolishly than this when they were in their cups. They could help it, William could not.

When had Stephen become an advocate for the feeble-minded? He looked at Oldbeck who was gulping his wine, licking his lips and sitting back with a big grin plastered on his face. And he knew. He’d become an advocate of The Earl of Oldbeck when he had met him and realised he was a person who needed a little help to reach his full potential. Was there anything so wrong with that?

****

The next day Harriet, Mary and Phoebe sat in William’s study looking upon the severe countenance of Miss Prewitt, the second candidate for the position of governess. Harriet reckoned Miss Prewitt to be around forty years of age, the small amount of brown hair she could see under the bonnet beginning to go grey. It was clearly tied in a severe knot at the nape of her neck. Miss Prewitt had little lines around her mouth from puckering her lips in disapproval. They were quite indented at present.

Six-year-old Phoebe put a tiny cross on the piece of paper she had in front of her. Harriet smiled at the woman. The interview had not even started yet.

“I am Lady Harriet, the sister of the Earl of Oldbeck. This is Miss Callahan and this is Miss Charville, the niece of the Duke of Halimead. We have a slightly unusual request for the first few weeks of your employment and then it would be more regular duties.”

“I do not want to work in a house where… funny business is going on.”

Harriet gritted her teeth. Why did educated women always assume the aristocracy were all up to depraved acts? She doubted she would know a depraved act if it happened on the breakfast table in front of her. She was a woman of gentle birth and good breeding. Of course her feeble-minded brother had got the kitchen maid with child—but that aside, there was no funny business going on in the house and she was trying to rectify the aforementioned situation.

“Miss Callahan needs to be schooled in ladylike pursuits, comportment, how to behave like a lady in genteel company, suitable topics of conversation, dancing, perhaps singing and needlework. She is to marry my brother—the Earl of Oldbeck. The whys and wherefores of Miss Callahan’s missed education are unimportant but she must be given this education as quickly as possible. Meanwhile. Miss Charville needs to begin her studies as soon as possible. I fear her father has had her in the nursery a little too long and she needs to learn to be more like a lady.”

Harriet gave the little girl a tender smile and the child smiled up at her beatifically. Apart from the house party they had attended two summers ago, today was the first time she had met Phoebe. And they had got on well immediately.

The would-be governess’s gaze swept over Mary, assessing her. Mary had complained about being primped and having her hair curled and twisted into the pretty style by a maid earlier that morning, but Harriet had insisted and it had been worth the effort. She looked every bit the gentle-born miss that Harriet was trying to convey to the world. Mary bit her lip, showing her unease at the scrutiny. Thankfully Mary was early enough on in her pregnancy that it did not show yet.

“Are you staying here, Miss Callahan?” asked the governess suddenly.

“Yes.” Mary frowned and looked at Harriet to make sure she had given the correct answer.”

“Then what of the earl?”

Harriet nodded her understanding of this line of questioning. Thank heavens that when Stephen and William had returned the night before, Stephen had taken charge and instilled a few rules and boundaries. Oldbeck would move in to Stephen’s townhouse and learn to be a gentleman, thus not living under the same roof as his betrothed, chaperoned by only his spinster sister. And now she could look this woman in the eye and tell the truth. “He is staying with Lord Stephen, Phoebe’s father. The Duke of Halimead’s brother.” Phoebe nodded wildly as if daring the woman to not believe her new friend.

“May I see your references?”

The woman handed over the papers. A quick glance through them told Harriet all she needed to know. She knew some of the women and girls to whom Miss Prewitt had been governess. They were all nasty little shrews without a sense of humour between them. Not one of them would ever give quarter to William because of his nature and they would all look down their noses at her entire family because he was different.

“Do you know anything about the Earl of Oldbeck, Miss Prewitt?”

“Know anything?”

The woman looked as if she was trying to hold something back. Harriet’s laugh was an insincere tinkle, one she had used many times in ballrooms and drawing rooms when she was anything but sincere.

“Oh come now, Miss Prewitt. I am sure even you occasionally hear gossip or have occasion to check out Debrett’s. My father died not eight months ago. There will be those who are scandalised that we only stayed in mourning for six months but honestly, he told us that we must not mourn for any longer. So I am sure you have heard of the earl and his… difficulties.”

“I am sure I do not understand what you mean, my lady.”

“I am sure you do, Miss Prewitt. Miss Callahan struggles with reading, writing and numbers, as does the earl. Will that be a problem?”

The woman’s eyes flicked over Mary again, the lines on her mouth deepening again. “I am sure it shall not be a problem. If she can behave herself in polite company, that is.”

Harriet looked at Mary. Beseeching eyes gazed back.
Please don’t pick her
, they said.

“But, what if I am unable to behave in polite company?” asked Phoebe suddenly.

Mary guffawed, a loud raucous laugh, giving away herself for the first time. Too loud and a little out of place for that moment. Phoebe leaned over and gave Mary a conspiratorial smile.

“You are a child. You shall behave as you are told or you shall go to bed hungry.”

“Perhaps Mary should go to bed hungry too if she does not behave as she ought,” said Phoebe. Oh dear! How had this got so out of control? And then it got worse.

“Oh no. I could not go to bed hungry. It would be bad for the baby.”

“The baby? What baby? I knew this was a house of sin.”