The Unexpected Marriage of Gabriel Stone (Lords of Disgrace) (13 page)

‘I’m going to Hertfordshire, look at this place for myself,’ he said abruptly.

‘Fine. I’ll pack.’ Louis got to his feet.

‘No need to trouble yourself.’ Gabriel said it with regret. It gave him unexpected pleasure that Louis wanted his company, but the last thing he needed was an encounter with Caroline with his little brother looking on. ‘I only want to familiarise myself with it. I’ll go first thing tomorrow and be back the day after.’ A brisk conversation with Caroline, just to put her on her guard, a rapid look at the place and then he would put up at the Red Lion in Hemel Hempstead for the night. All done and dusted.

Gabriel recalled the last glimpse he’d had of her, her bounty of blonde curls wrenched back into submission, her blue eyes wide with hurt behind those ridiculous spectacles, the shock on her face at his snubbing words. It had been for the best, of course. Women became...attached and she had no experience of men like him. She saw him as a rescuer, not as what he was, jaded and amoral and severely tempted to take what he should not.

She needed a nice young man, a countryman, perhaps the son of a local gentry family. She’d be safe with a man like that, someone straightforward who wouldn’t hurt her, who wouldn’t become bored with innocence and trust as he assuredly would. The ache in his chest at the thought was presumably his damnable new conscience again.

‘George and I were wondering,’ Louis began.

Words to put fear into any older brother. ‘Yes?’ Gabriel said warily, half his thoughts still on a suitable husband for Caroline.

‘Are you intending to get married? Because, he’s a good chap of course, but Ben’s in the army, which doesn’t seem very safe for the heir, and George really wants to be a bishop.’

‘I was not planning on needing an heir in the near future,’ Gabriel said, all his concentration jerked back to his brother. It was very unlike Louis to venture into such personal territory. ‘What on earth is this about, anyway?’

‘We wondered, that’s all. You taking an interest in the land now. And your three closest friends marrying. You are getting on, after all.’

‘I am twenty-nine,’ Gabriel snapped. ‘Hardly in my dotage.’

‘You ought to think about it,’ Louis persisted. ‘I’ve been reading up on marriage settlements and entails and all that recently, so I’m completely on top of the subject for when you need advice.’

‘Louis.’ His brother raised short-sighted green eyes and squinted at him. ‘Pay attention. I do not require lectures on marriage and the production of heirs from my spotty little brother.’ He got up and left the room, followed by Louis’s indignant protests.

‘I am not spotty!’

‘Hampshire, my travelling carriage for eight tomorrow morning. Breakfast for seven and tell Corbridge I’ll not be needing him, just an overnight bag.’

‘My lord.’

Gabriel took his hat from the hall stand and let himself out of the front door. There was a new hell off Hill Street that was as informal as the stakes were high. It was one place he was quite certain he’d be safe from prosing brothers, well-meaning friends, matchmaking mothers and respectable damsels with big blue eyes and that was where he would be until midnight.

Chapter Thirteen

I
t had never occurred to her that a housekeeper’s life would be a lonely one. In a large household there was a butler, a steward, a cook and a mature lady’s maid for the mistress of the house, a little inner circle of upper servants. But here, with no family in residence, the housekeeper reigned in an isolated state.

Caroline set the flower arrangement on a table in the hall and looked out through the open door, down the carriage drive between the high yew hedges that were receiving their first good cut in years and on to the green haze of the Vale of Aylesbury in the August sunlight. Behind the house the beech woods rose like a blanket over the swell of the Chiltern Hills, nestling it into the tiny valley of the Spring Bourne, the seasonal stream that rose from the chalk after heavy rain, then vanished in summer.

This was a lovely spot, the house was charming and soon it would become a home for Anthony and for herself. But meanwhile, although there was a lot to do and even more to be thankful for, the loneliness pressed in on her.
And it has only been three weeks.

‘I’ve finished the panelling in the dining room, Mrs Crabtree.’ Jane, the housemaid, came into the hall carrying a basket of jars of beeswax and polishing cloths. ‘It’ll take a few more goes to get the shine up proper, though.’

‘Once a week and not too much wax, more elbow grease,’ Caroline said. That was what was advised in
Mrs Pomfrett’s Household Management
, the thick tome that was her night-time reading. ‘Too much wax builds up and dulls the shine.’

‘Yes, ma’am. I’ll lay the table in your room, Mrs Crabtree. Almost time for luncheon.’

That was another thing. Every meal had to be taken alone in the housekeeper’s parlour while the cheerful sounds of chatter from the servants’ hall echoed down the flagged passageway. She’d been tempted to prop a book up in front of her, but that was a bad example to the maids, so must be resisted. They relied on the training they received here for their next post, perhaps promotion to a bigger household, or cook-housekeeper to a widow or single gentleman. It all left far too much time to be thinking about a certain brown-eyed gentleman.

‘There’s a rider coming up the drive, Mrs Crabtree.’

‘Who can that be?’ Caroline squinted against the sunlight, heart pounding. A boyish rider on a chestnut hack with a rather shambling gait. Not a tall man on a fine piece of bloodstock. Of course not.

‘Close the front door, alert William that someone is coming. Possibly they are lost and want directions.’

She followed the scurrying maid towards the back of the hall and waited in the shadows while the footman emerged, tugged down his waistcoat and went to open the door.

‘Good morning, sir. I regret that none of the family is in residence.’

‘Well, I am now.’ The light, cheerful voice cracked mid-sentence, betraying the speaker’s nerves as well as his age. ‘I am Mr Anthony Holm and this is my house.’

William’s gulp was audible. ‘Perhaps you would come through to the drawing room, sir, and I’ll fetch the housekeeper.’

Caroline hardly caught a glimpse of her brother before William had him shut in the front room. She met the footman halfway across the hall.

‘Mrs Crabtree, ma’am, I didn’t know where to put myself! The poor young gentleman can’t know his father’s sold the estate to Lord Edenbridge.’ That was the story she had told the staff, not wanting to expose her father’s folly at gambling it away.

‘I’ll go and speak to him. Don’t bring refreshments until I ring.’ She went in and closed the door behind herself. ‘Anthony,’ she said quietly. ‘This is a surprise.’

‘Caro!’ He spun round from his contemplation of the view from the window, his face a mixture of pleasure, surprise and then, when he took in her costume, bafflement. ‘What on earth are you doing here dressed like that?’

She hugged him fiercely, shaken by how much his gangling frame had grown since the last time she had held him. He was not her little brother any longer. ‘Oh, how I have missed you! Sit down and I’ll tell you everything—and then you must tell me how you got here.’

She left out the offer to exchange her virginity for the deeds, saying instead that she had explained the situation to Gabriel and he had immediately returned them. When it came to her reasons for fleeing she told him only that Woodruffe had an unsavoury reputation. Even so, Anthony was clearly old enough to guess it was worse than she said.

‘The old devil,’ he gasped when he heard that their father had beaten her. His horror became fascination at the story of Gabriel’s imposture and he was boy enough to be vastly amused at the thought of an earl disguised as a hermit.

‘So here I am, guarding your inheritance and staying safe myself,’ Caroline finished.

‘He’s a great gun, isn’t he? Lord Edenbridge, I mean.’ Anthony’s face glowed with hero worship. ‘Father told me, just in passing, about losing Springbourne. I said what I thought, pretty loudly, and got a thrashing for my pains.’ He shrugged off her hands when she would have caught him to her for a hug and stuck out his chin pugnaciously. ‘I’d got an invitation to stay with Percy—you know, Herrick’s younger brother?—near London, so I went there. Father didn’t mind.

‘Then I called on Lord Edenbridge and he told me he was looking after the estate for me. His youngest brother was there, a bit of a stuffed shirt, I thought.’ His blue gaze slid round to her. ‘Edenbridge didn’t say anything about you.’ When she did not comment he shrugged. ‘Anyway, he advanced me some money from the estate, so I thought I’d come and have a look. May I stay?’

‘Of
course
you may.’ She just wanted to hold him and not let go. ‘But you must remember that you are here as a guest of Lord Edenbridge and I’ll let the staff know you were upset because of the estate being sold, but that the earl has allowed you to visit for a while. And you must call me Mrs Crabtree and treat me like the housekeeper. We can say that I knew you when you were a little boy, which is true and that will explain any familiarity.’

‘Crabtree?’

‘I realised I hadn’t thought of a name and when I arrived that was the first thing I saw,’ Caroline said defensively. ‘I think it sounds suitable for a housekeeper.’

‘Gnarled and vinegary,’ Anthony teased.

‘I’ll ring for luncheon. You’ll have to eat it in solitary splendour because it wouldn’t do for the housekeeper to sit down with you.’ As she stood up she glimpsed movement at the end of the drive. ‘A carriage is coming. Of all the bad timing! You had best stay out of sight. I do hope it isn’t Father.’

Anthony leapt to his feet with an oath that had her scolding him.

‘Not in front of ladies, you brat! Look, it is a team of greys.’ She relaxed. Her father always drove bays. It was irrational, of course, this fear. There was not the slightest clue to bring him here, but even so, she kept waking in the night in a cold sweat of dread, fighting a nightmare of being dragged back to Knighton Park and Lord Woodruff’s grasping hands.

‘And very nice, too,’ Anthony said with a sigh of envy. ‘Real high-steppers. I’ll go into the back garden.’

Caroline followed him out, called for William and retreated to the back of the hall again. She had not seen a single visitor all the time she had been at Springbourne except tradesmen and local people and now someone had to turn up hot on Anthony’s heels. This was like one of those farces with everyone diving behind sofas or into cupboards as more and more people arrived at inconvenient or compromising moments. It would make Gabriel laugh, she thought as William, peering through the glass at the side of the door, opened it before the caller could knock.

‘Good afternoon,’ said a very familiar voice. ‘I am Edenbridge.’

‘My lord.’ William sounded even more flustered than he had at Anthony’s arrival. She could hardly blame him: she was totally confused herself. And, she realised, very happy.

‘Might I come in?’ Gabriel enquired mildly.

‘Yes, of course, my lord. I do apologise, my lord, keeping you standing on your own doorstep.’ His ears and the back of his neck were crimson as he took Gabriel’s hat and gloves. ‘I’ll...er... Should I have luncheon sent up, my lord?’

‘Please do. This is the drawing room? Ask the housekeeper if she could join me at her convenience.’

‘Yes, my lord. Certainly, my lord.’ The footman closed the door and scurried to the back of the hall. ‘It’s Lord Edenbridge, Mrs Crabtree.’

‘Ask Cook to prepare luncheon for three and I will join the gentlemen. Go to Mr Holm and give him my compliments and tell him I will be with him as soon as possible.’ The staff would think it strange, but now the two of them were here she simply had to talk to them together. But Gabriel first. And alone.

‘Caroline.’ He came across the room to her, his hand stretched out, and it took her a second to realise he intended to shake hers, not gather her into his arms.

Of course, you idiot.
She smiled and offered her own hand and asked him to be seated with commendable composure. His hair had grown out of its strict crop since she had seen him last and his breeches, boots and riding coat were as carelessly thrown on as always, even though he had come in a carriage and not on horseback.

‘How are you managing?’ he asked, studying her as she sat there looking, she was very aware, like a neat, dowdy housekeeper.

‘Very well, thank you, my lord. It is quiet, but there is plenty to keep me occupied. Might I ask what brings you here? Not a problem, I trust. Or perhaps you have become bored and fancied a change of scenery?’ That was bitter and she regretted the words as soon as she spoke them. They betrayed how much his parting words had hurt her. She had her pride.

Gabriel did not make the mistake of apologising, which was sensible of him as well as preserving what dignity she had left. ‘Your brother Anthony arrived on my doorstep proposing to buy back Springbourne. It was necessary to explain the true circumstances to him. Your father had told him he had lost it and it occurred to me that he had not told
you
. For all Knighton knows you still believe this to be a family property, one where he never visits and somewhere you might think of as a sanctuary. I wanted to warn you and discuss how to mitigate the danger.’

So her night-time fears were not so far-fetched after all if Gabriel shared them. ‘Thank you, I appreciate you taking the trouble to come in person.’ It sounded stilted, but perhaps she should be making the effort to distance herself with formality. It was too easy to yearn for the closeness that had been between them when Gabriel had been the hermit and she a fugitive.

Caroline kept her gaze on her own hands, folded neatly in her lap, and not on his long, expressive fingers. ‘Anthony is here. He arrived very shortly before you did.’

‘The little devil! I advanced him some money, but I thought he was staying with a school friend. What is he doing here?’

‘Heaving a huge sigh of relief that it is his again, I suspect. He was taken aback to discover that the housekeeper, Mrs Crabtree, knew him very well.’

‘I am not surprised,
Mrs Crabtree.
We had better have a council of war, the three of us.’

‘That is what I thought. I told him about Woodruffe.’

There was a tap on the door. ‘Luncheon is served, Mrs Crabtree.’

‘Thank you, William. Please ask Mr Holm to join us in the dining room.’

Anthony came in, looking wary. ‘I heard your voice in the hall, Edenbridge. You’re wondering what I am doing here, I suppose?’

‘You may go where you please.’ Gabriel held the chair for Caroline, then took his own place opposite her. ‘I am not your guardian.’

‘I know, sir, but you gave me money and I let you think I was staying in London.’

‘I advanced you your own money. It is of no matter. Let us eat and think how best to handle the situation. I came because I was uneasy that your father might search here for Lady Caroline. We’re mired in a tangle of deceptions: I’m pretending to own this place, you are pretending you do not know it is now yours again and that your sister is hiding from her own father and posing as the housekeeper. I just hope you are a good actor, Anthony, because you are going to have to face your father and play the role of the disappointed son well enough to convince him that you are pining for Springbourne. And you’re a poor liar, I’ve noticed.’

‘I’m a good actor, though,’ Anthony said, reaching for a slice of cold beef. ‘I’ve acted at school and got some pretty enthusiastic reviews. And this is important, really important. It isn’t as though it is some little white lie I might forget about. I’ll sulk a bit and keep out of Father’s way, that’s what he’d expect.’

‘And what about you, Mrs Crabtree?’ He seemed to find the name as amusing as Anthony did.

‘I never answer the front door, of course. If my father does come, then I will leave by the back and hide in the woods. He could search for a year and not find me there.’

‘I suppose it will have to do.’ Gabriel looked unsatisfied, although it did not seem to be impairing his appetite.

Caroline wondered whether to ring and tell Cook to send up the apple pie along with the cheese. She helped herself to the game pie before the two hungry males demolished it. ‘It gives me bad dreams, imagining he has found me,’ she confessed. ‘But I really do not think it is a serious risk. He is very self-centred and I don’t believe he thinks much about other people’s motives.’

As she spoke the doorbell rang, followed by the thump of the knocker. ‘Who now? Really, after weeks of perfect peace the place is like the White Horse Cellar when the mails come in!’

Then there was the sound of William opening the door and the voice of the caller and the footman’s agitated protests. Caroline dropped her knife with a clatter on her plate and Anthony jumped to his feet as the door swung open.

‘So you
are
here, boy, you impudent whelp.’