Louise M. Gouge (17 page)

“Ah, yes, of course.” Lady Drayton nodded. “And doubtless by the time you returned to London, another scandal would have been all the rage.”

“Yes,” Lady Greystone said. “Doubtless.” She examined Anna with a critical stare as if seeing her for the first time.

“Now.” The marchioness tapped the major’s knee with her folded fan. “About your future, young man. What can I do for you?”

Chapter Twenty-Six

B
y the time Lady Drayton’s barouche stopped in front of Greystone Hall, she had thoroughly questioned Edmond—or more precisely, Mother—and promised them she would speak to Wellington or even the Prince Regent himself about an advancement.

“We must wait for the appropriate time, of course. But be assured that your exemplary service in America will put you in good light, especially when you return there to help lead our troops to victory.” Her maternal smile was more than his own mother had ever given him.

“Madam, you are too kind.” Edmond was well aware of her power to obtain what she wanted for her friends, whether he desired an advancement or not. At least he had days, perhaps weeks, before Wellington returned to London.

After the appropriate goodbyes, he disembarked from the carriage and handed Mother and Miss Newfield down. Then the marchioness called Mother back to the side of the carriage.

“You must bring your charming son and the lovely Miss Newfield to my ball this Friday. I would postpone it until our soldiers return, but with Parliament opening on Tuesday next, I do so want to start the Season appropriately.”

“We would be honored, Lady Drayton.” Mother’s grim expression had not softened since she learned of Miss Newfield’s history.

“Very good. I shall send around your invitation.” She tapped her fan on the seat. “Home, Basil.”

Once inside the town house Mother ordered Miss Newfield to follow her to the small parlor. Edmond also followed, determined to prevent his parent from browbeating the young lady.

“Your presence is not required.” Mother signaled the footman to close the door, but Edmond pushed through.

“Nonsense.” He used her favorite word. “As I am responsible for bringing this person into your employ, I have a right to know how she has deceived us.” He hoped Miss Newfield understood his purpose in speaking so harshly. He wished he could send her a reassuring wink, but Mother was glaring directly at him.

“Really, Edmond, I would hardly call it deceit.” She crossed her arms. “As Lady Drayton said, it is more than obvious Miss Newfield had no idea her mother once created a scandal. It is not the sort of thing a lady tells her children.”

While he was pleased she did not mean to berate Miss Newfield, the young lady’s pale face and glistening eyes stirred his protective instincts. “But why do you consider it a scandal?”

“Why, isn’t it obvious?” Mother snorted. “An earl, whoever he was, offered for Miss Elgin. She rejected him. And for what? To marry an insignificant village vicar with no prospects.”

Miss Newfield sank down on the settee, removed her bonnet and covered her face with both hands. Edmond prayed she would not cry, for nothing annoyed Mother more than tears.

“How irresponsible, both for herself and for her entire family. And look at the result.” She waved a hand toward the object of her tirade. “Disowned,
disinherited
and a daughter forced into
working
like some common farmer’s offspring. The very idea—”

“My lady, if you please.” Her features heroically composed, Miss Newfield rose with a grace equal to any heiress’s. “I should like to retire.” She did not wait for permission, but curtseyed and hurried from the room.

Edmond had never been so proud of her. Her simple action might result in her being sacked, but if so, he would do exactly what her father had done—marry the woman he loved and care for her all his life, no matter how humbly they must live.

“Madam, I pray you will not think too harshly—”

“Hush, Edmond. I am thinking.” Mother began to pace, her hard-heeled riding boots thumping against the polished oak floor. She stopped at the window and spun back to face him. “I must investigate the matter and find out who her mother’s people are, who this Sir Reginald Elgin is, for I have never encountered him. It may turn to our advantage for me to introduce her into Society as my protégée rather than keeping her as my companion.” She waved him away. “Go on, then. Tell the
gel
she has nothing to worry about. I have no plans to let her go, if that is her concern.”

“Yes, madam.” Edmond took his leave and strode from the room after Miss Newfield. Clearly Mother did not know her at all. He had no doubt her position was the least of her concerns, but rather how to sort out the revelation of her family’s secret.

* * *

In her little sitting room Anna rested in her favorite wingchair, but she could take no pleasure in her pretty surroundings. Although she had not entirely surrendered to her tears, a few stray drops did manage to escape as countless questions tormented her. Why had her parents kept secret the most wonderful part of their love story? Did they fear she and Peter would somehow be ashamed rather than pleased to comprehend the depth of their love? She would never know their reasons, but if given the chance, she would follow their example. If at this moment Major Grenville appeared at her door and asked for her hand, she would gladly say yes.

A knock did sound on her door. She jumped, then laughed at her own silliness. “One moment.” She wiped away her tears and opened the portal. To her surprise, it was the very gentleman who consumed her thoughts.

“Major Grenville.” With her emotions so heightened, this was not a good time for him to come, especially when his ardent expression seemed to convey the same affection she felt.
Especially
when she longed to launch herself into his comforting arms. Yet she dared not assume anything. “M-may I help you?”

His warm chuckle rolled over her like a woolen blanket in winter. “May I come in?”

“Well…” She peeked out to scan the hallway.

“Mother sent me.” His merry smirk further encouraged her and also settled her emotions. Despite her wild imaginings—and hopes—he had not come to propose.

“Oh. Well, then, do come in.” She waved a hand toward the wingchair. “I shall ring for tea.” Leaving the outer door open, she stepped into the bedchamber and tugged on the bell pull to summon Esther. She returned to sit across from the major, far enough away for propriety’s sake, far enough away that he could not grasp the hand she wished so eagerly to give him. “I suppose Lady Greystone is quite displeased with me.”

Again he chuckled. “Not at all. In fact, I do believe you have replaced me in her schemes.”

“What?”

He shrugged and his smile disappeared. “Oh, she will not stop until I’ve sailed for America.” The twinkle returned to his eyes. “But now she is scheming to advance you.”

“Advance
me?
But, as she so clearly said this afternoon, I am not someone significant.” The sting of Lady Greystone’s careless words had not diminished, despite these new revelations. “More important, I own nothing—no inheritance or anything of value.”

He leaned forward as if he would move closer to her, and her breath lodged in her throat. “You are indeed significant to—”

“You rang, Miss Newfield?” Esther appeared in the door and stared from Anna to the major and back again, disapproval clear in her narrowed eyes.

Disappointed that the major had not completed his thought, Anna nevertheless must prevent her lady’s maid from misunderstanding the situation. “Lady Greystone sent Major Grenville to advise me on some important matters. Would you please bring us tea?” She had yet to make this woman her friend, so she offered her a warm smile.

Esther’s lips formed a thin line as she stepped across the sitting room and closed the bedchamber door. “Bringing tea is not one of my duties, miss.”

“Oh—” Anna recalled the many times throughout the winter when Mrs. Hudson had cheerfully fetched tea for her.

Major Grenville stood and towered over Esther. “What exactly is your duty, if not to obey the lady you have been assigned to serve?” Anna could imagine his soldiers quaking under the stern look he gave the woman.

Now a pout formed on Esther’s face, which might have been charming in her younger days but now merely distorted her ordinary features. “Very well, then.” She spun around and marched from the room, leaving Anna to wonder whether or not she would actually bring the tea.

“Now, where were we?” Scowling, Major Grenville reclaimed his chair.

Anna could not resist trying to lighten the tone of their conversation. “Let me see. I had just stated my lack of significance, and you were about to tell me that I am significant to—?”

“Hmm. Well.” He cleared his throat. “You are the granddaughter of a gentleman addressed as ‘Sir.’ That in itself is significant. However, we do not know whether your grandfather was—or is—a baronet or a gentleman knighted by His Majesty for some special service. In the first case the title is inherited and then passed on to subsequent generations. In the second case it is a singular honor for the gentleman and goes no further.”

“I think I understand.” Anna searched her memory but could not recall any mention of her maternal grandfather by either parent. How she regretted not asking them. “As I told Lady Greystone when we met, my
father’s
ancestor was knighted by Queen Anne for a special service, although I have no idea what. But even if my mother’s father is a baronet, he disowned her.” She grieved to think her gentle mother had suffered such a fate. But then,
Papá
had been an extraordinary gentleman, much like Major Grenville in many ways, so Anna could understand
Mamá
’s choice.

The major frowned. “Hmm. In truth, I do not know whether that will make a difference. But you may be certain Mother will unearth everything.” He gave her a wry grin, then stood and walked to the door. “Be prepared for a great change in your life.”

“Will you not wait for tea?” Anna felt a twinge of foolish desperation in wanting him to stay.

“I would greatly enjoy tea.” His dark eyes filled with a gentle look she could not discern. “But perhaps we should return to the parlor rather than provide fodder for servants’ gossip.”

“Of course.” Anna resisted the urge to remind him of how limited their conversation would be in the parlor. “I will join you momentarily.”

“Your servant, madam.” He gave her one of his comically elaborate bows, then disappeared down the hallway.

Anna opened the inner door and hurried into her bedchamber to sit at the dainty vanity table and fix her hair. As she suspected, having been tucked under her bonnet all afternoon, it was awry. This time, the major had not attempted to smooth it back. A good thing, too, for it could have posed great danger to her reputation if he had done so just as Esther entered the room.

“Miss Newfield?” Coming from the outer room, the lady’s maid’s voice sounded like a nervous chirp.

“Here I am, Esther.”

“Oh, miss!” She set down the tea tray she carried. “I just heard your news. Oh, my, such an important advancement.” She bustled over to Anna and gently seized her brush. “Now, now. You must permit
me
to tend to your hair.” She set about working her magic on the unruly curls. “There, now, miss. Much better.” And indeed it was. “You will want to change out of your riding habit.” Not waiting for Anna’s approval, she set about unbuttoning the dress. “This is the day we shall debut your new gown. And of course, your new black slippers.” Flitting about the room in her eagerness to complete her task, Esther seemed like a different person as she fastened the buttons up the back of the dress, a grey cotton creation with black piping and lace that Mrs. Hudson had helped her make. After a last retouch of Anna’s coiffure, the woman stood back and studied her with a critical eye. “Beautiful. Simply beautiful.”

Anna willingly submitted to her ministrations and, looking in her long mirror, was more than pleased with the outcome. “Thank you, Esther. I believe it is acceptable at last for me to carry my ivory fan.”

The maid brought the item from the wardrobe. “Here you are, miss. May I pour your tea?”

“Ah, I had forgotten it.” Anna spied the small sandwiches beside the porcelain tea service, and her stomach demanded satisfaction. But a far stronger appetite called out to her—to see Major Grenville. “I am having tea—” she need not explain further “—downstairs.”

Esther had the grace to blush. “Yes, miss.”

“But you must have this.” Anna waved her hand over the inviting repast. “Invite Mrs. Hudson to join you here in my sitting room.”

Esther’s jaw dropped. Then she smiled and curtseyed. “Why, yes, miss, I’ll do that.”

Anna descended the two flights of stairs and walked toward the small parlor, where a footman met her. “Lady Greystone and Major Grenville request the honor of your presence in the drawing room, miss.”

Retracing her steps up the hallway, Anna felt both eagerness to see the major and trepidation over meeting with Lady Greystone. She had not yet settled her emotions over today’s shocking news and did not feel prepared by half to receive any further reports regarding her long-lost family.

Then another thought interrupted her musings. If Sir Reginald Elgin had not yet departed this earth, she still had living family. But then, if he had disowned
Mamá,
he would not have the slightest interest in Anna. Or Peter, she hastened to remind herself. For she could not dismiss the belief that her brother was alive and recovering from his injuries somewhere in America.