The Price of Pleasure (14 page)

“Available? Oh, aye, my lord. My daughter has five little ones and barely enough room to house them much less me. I’d be delighted to return to Hunthurst. It’s the only home I’ve ever known.”

“What about Rogers? Do you know where our butler can be located?”

“He went to London to accept other employment.”

“Ah. Well, at least you are here and willing to return. Can you start immediately? The kitchen maids need direction. They are working on dinner as we speak.”

Mrs. Walters rose, apparently eager to resume her position. “I don’t know what the Frenchman planned for dinner, but we’ll make do for tonight.”

Mrs. Walters departed. Reed walked to the sideboard, poured himself a measure of brandy and let the smooth liquid roll down his throat. Tomorrow he intended to go over the books with his estate manager, spend a few days visiting the tenants, and then head to London.

Reed was eager to speak to Lord Porter about the traitor, and to finalize the details of his succession. His thoughts still disordered, he climbed the stairs to his bedchamber to check his wardrobe for something suitable to wear to dinner.

The upstairs maid had her arms full of dirty bed linen when Reed entered the chamber. She curtsied and scurried off. Reed opened the wardrobe, pleased to find the clothing he had left there intact. Most of the things had been hanging since he had left university and would not have fit his more mature physique before he went to France. Now they would suit him well enough. He wondered why Jason had kept them.

Though Reed hoped his butler/valet was waiting for him at his London bachelor quarters, he feared he was expecting too much of the man. He had been gone so long, he wouldn’t blame Updike if he had found a new employer.

Reed thought he looked reasonably well in his out-ofdate clothing as he headed down to dinner that night. He had chosen a black coat and buff breeches, normal wear for a country dinner. In the back of his wardrobe he had found a pair of his favorite boots and wore them tonight. They felt like old friends.

Everyone was already seated when he arrived. Despite the excellent meal Mrs. Walters had put together for them, Reed thought Duvall looked uncomfortable. His nostrils were pinched, and his mouth turned down at the corners. Conversation was sporadic, and when the dessert was served, Duvall cleared his throat and said, “I intend to take my leave in the morning.”

“You’re leaving?” Helen cried. “Wherever will you go?”

He gave a Gallic shrug. “To London, I suppose. It’s time I met some of my compatriots. I understand there is quite a community of émigrés in London.”

“I’ll probably follow you to London in a few days, as soon as I make sure things are running smoothly at Hunthurst.

Is Mr. Dunbar still the estate manager?” he asked Duvall. “Or is he another of the faithful employees you have sacked?”

Duvall shifted nervously in his seat. “I saw no reason to sack Dunbar. He’s doing an excellent job.”

“It’s nice to know there is someone on the estate you valued,” Reed drawled.

Suddenly Helen brightened. “Why don’t we all go to London? Lord knows I could use a change, and I’m sure Violet will agree. The London mansion has plenty of room for all of us.”

Reed stifled a groan. It was true the mansion could house a dozen people, but the idea of sharing it with Helen and Violet was unpalatable to him.

“I know I’m officially in mourning, but I can still make calls and have a social life of sorts. And you can squire me and Violet to all the evening functions.”

“Oh, yes,” Violet exclaimed, clapping her hands. “London is just the thing! It will take no time at all to pack, and the Little Season is about to begin. There is no one I would rather have escort me than Reed.”

Reed didn’t have the heart to deny them the use of the mansion since he didn’t intend to stay there himself. He much preferred his bachelor quarters, where he could keep his private life private. He had purchased the townhouse when Jason announced his intention to wed Helen. The money had come from his mother’s estate and had been willed specifically to him.

“You may use the London mansion whenever you wish and for however long you please,” Reed said. “I will be staying at my townhouse. As for escorting you and Violet about, I may be available upon occasion but not as often as you might wish. Begin your preparations for the move immediately, for I intend to leave as soon I’m sure things are running smoothly here.”

Reed excused himself and sought the privacy of his study. He had no stomach for Violet’s fawning, Helen’s foolishness or Duvall’s scowls. Reed sat at the desk and penned a note to Mr. Dunbar, requesting his presence at the estate office at nine o’clock the next morning, then sent a footman to deliver the message.

That done, Reed leaned back in his chair and thought of Fleur. Was she well? Was she staying away from Devil’s Chateau after the last fiasco? A knock on the door dragged him from his thoughts.

“Come.”

Helen entered. “May I have a word with you, Reed?”

“Of course. Please sit down and tell me how I can help you.”

“It’s about Violet.”

Reed frowned. “What about Violet?”

“Staying with me in the country has put her social life on hold. She’s an attractive woman, in case you haven’t noticed. She also has a sizeable dowry. You could do worse.”

Reed’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m not looking for a wife, Helen.”

“Your grandmother will have something to say about that. Jason and I weren’t fortunate enough to produce an heir, so now it’s up to you.”

“I just returned home; don’t push me. I imagine I will wed one day, but not for a long time. I’m not in my dotage yet. As for Violet, if she’s as good a catch as you say, she will find a husband before the Season ends. Is there anything else?” he asked dismissively.

Helen rose and took her leave, her face flushed with displeasure. Alone again, Reed penned a note to his grandmother, intending to send it off in the morning. The old lady was probably chomping at the bit to see him. Porter would have already told her that her grandson was alive. Reed could well imagine Grandmamma lining up this Season’s debs and heiresses for him to look over.

The following morning, Reed was informed that Gallard Duvall had left shortly after dawn. That suited Reed just fine. He ate breakfast and arrived at the estate office for his meeting with Mr. Dunbar at precisely nine o’clock. They spent that entire day and the next going over the books, which Reed found in excellent order. The day after that they rode the width and breadth of the property, stopping to talk to the tenants along the way.

The neat little cottages appeared in good repair, and the gardens and orchards were ripe with the fruit of the workers’ labor. Reed was pleased. Jason had been a good landlord; he hoped he could live up to his brother’s standards.

It took two more days to settle everything at Hunthurst and the outlying farms to his satisfaction. When Reed announced his intention to leave for London the following day, the women proclaimed themselves ready to accompany him. Reed packed only a few items of clothing to take with him. Everything else he intended to order new from London tailors.

The morning of their departure, the Hunthurst coach had been brought around and the boot and top loaded with the ladies’ hatboxes and trunks. The ladies themselves came out of the house wearing their best black traveling costumes and feathered hats and climbed into the coach. When Reed brought his horse around, Violet asked, “Aren’t you going to ride inside with us?”

God forbid.
“I intend to ride Ebony to town. The distance isn’t great. I will ride ahead and make sure everything at the town mansion is in order when you arrive.” He saluted them with his riding crop. “Have a good journey, ladies.”

Before the ladies reached the Hunthurst mansion in London, Reed had assured himself that everything was as it should be. All the old servants still held the same positions, which pleased him enormously. Apparently Gallard Duvall hadn’t attempted to exert his authority in London.

Reed didn’t wait around for the ladies to arrive but left for his townhouse immediately after he’d greeted the servants. Since his townhouse was just around the corner from the family mansion, Reed didn’t have far to travel. He tied his horse to a hitching post, walked up to the front door and stopped. He had no key. All his personal belongings had been confiscated when he was apprehended. Though Reed knew that the townhouse was probably empty and it wouldn’t do any good to knock, he did so anyway.

The summons was answered by a tall man with long white sideburns and a sparse patch of hair on top of his head. He beamed from ear to ear when he saw Reed standing before him.

“Welcome home, my lord.”

Chapter Seven

Stunned to see his employee and friend, Reed pumped his hand and clapped him on the back. “Updike, good God, man, you’re still here!”

Updike gave an affronted snort. “Where else would I be, my lord?”

Updike threw open the door, and Reed stepped inside. Everything was just as he had left it. Dear Lord, it was good to be home.

“Truth to tell, Updike, I didn’t expect you to be here. It’s been over a year. Everyone seems to be of the opinion that I am dead.”

“Not I, my lord. I have great faith in your ability to survive even the worst of circumstances.”

“What about the staff? Have they found employment elsewhere?”

“Mrs. Peabody remains, and I’ve managed to keep one maid to help her.”

“However did you continue to pay them and yourself?”

“You left money in your cashbox, if you recall. We’ve managed well enough.”

“So I did,” Reed remembered, “but a year is a long time.”

“You’ve paid me well over the years. I supplemented the cash you left with my savings to keep the townhouse running properly in your absence.”

Reed shook his head. How could he reward such loyalty? “I’ll make it up to you, Updike.”

“Your chamber is in readiness for you. Lord Porter sent word several days ago that you had reached England and would be returning to London soon. Mrs. Peabody and I didn’t know whether you would be staying here or at the Hunthurst mansion, but we went ahead and prepared the townhouse for your homecoming anyway.”

“Come to my study, Updike. I’d like you to join me in a celebratory drink. You don’t know how close I came to turning up my toes.”

Reed led the way to the study, stopping a moment in the open doorway to inhale the odor of leather, tobacco and furniture polish. The room was the most comfortable in the townhouse, complete with leather chairs, mahogany desk, fireplace, and walls lined with books.

“I’ll get the brandy straightaway,” Updike said, moving off to the sideboard.

Reed walked to the window and stared out at the fog rolling in from the Thames; the fire blazing in the hearth was most welcome. “How did you know to build a fire?” Reed asked. “Even I didn’t know when I would arrive in London.”

“I’ve built a fire in here every day since Lord Porter informed me of your return.”

He handed Reed a snifter of brandy and lifted his own in a toast. “To your safe return and continued good health, my lord. Long live the new Earl of Hunthurst.”

Reed sank into a chair, lifted his snifter and sipped appreciatively of the amber liquid. “Sit down, Updike.”

“You’re an earl now, my lord. It wouldn’t be proper.”