The Viscount Needs a Wife (19 page)

“No, but I can see what you mean. Oh, Kitty. Are you unhappy?”

“No! Not at all. The place is a challenge, but I expected that. Dauntry and I are coming to understand each other quite well. I came here simply to practice driving, and
because I wanted to see you. But I do have a few questions.”

“About what? Sit down.”

Kitty did so. “About the fifth viscount and his wife.”

“Oh. Why?”

“Because I sense a mystery. Diane Dauntry left before you came here, but does anyone ever mention the event? She can't have simply disappeared.”

Ruth shrugged. “It's one of those subjects that people don't talk about, and as you know, the Abbey keeps its distance.”

“But some of the servants come from local families, and I'm sure the Misses Purslow will know what's to be known. People gossip.”

“And shouldn't. Why are you poking into it?”

“Don't make a prune face at me. Dauntry pointed out that ignorance is weakness. He's trying to understand everything about the Abbey and the family there, and I want to help him.” Kitty thought of a nobler motive. “In addition, Isabella might want to know about her mother.”

“Ah. I'm sorry if I was sharp. What of the lady's family? They must know where she went. Probably abroad, you know.”

“Yes. It just seems odd that the fifth viscount didn't divorce her. It's as if he and everyone simply said ‘good riddance' and went on with life.”

“They must have said something to Isabella. Have you asked her?”

“I haven't met her there yet. Or the dowager.”

“Why ever not?”

“It's not my fault. They've stayed out of sight, and Dauntry dissuaded me from approaching them. He seemed to think it would be a weak move. Yes, yet more chess. I'll meet them today, one way or another.” She stood. “I'd better go back, but if you get the chance, please raise the
subject of Diane. It's not just idle curiosity. I have a feeling there's something lurking there.”

“Whatever can you mean?”

“If I knew, I'd be further forward. There are all kinds of oddities at the Abbey, Ruth. According to Dauntry, there's money unaccounted for, though that could be because the fifth viscount had a very haphazard way of dealing with paperwork. It's early days, but I sense something peculiar about him. He's spoken of as a devoted son, but it seems he spent little time at the Abbey.”

“That's certainly true in recent times.”

“You see? I intend to get to the bottom of it, as well as turning the servants to my side, taking over control of the Abbey, and wooing Isabella from allegiance to the dowager.”

“All in a day?” Ruth teased.

Kitty chuckled, but wasn't feeling humorous when she said, “I've a lifetime.” She hugged Ruth. “As I said, nothing is amiss is my marriage, and I'm relishing all these challenges. Thank you, thank you, for putting me in the way of it. I'll visit frequently as I take my driving lessons, and in a few days, you and the family must visit me.”

Ruth's hug was fierce, but did she, like Kitty, feel a divide? They weren't schoolgirls anymore, and their situations and stations were now very different. And they might not even be in accord on all matters. How was Kitty to cope without Ruth's support?

K
itty reentered Beauchamp Abbey by the comfortable back door, hoping to find Braydon in his office. However, Worseley told he her he'd not yet returned.

He was taking a very long ride.

Was he escaping both the Abbey and his wife?

Kitty was tempted to go back outside and stay out until he returned, but that would be childish. She went upstairs, determined to take up her duties to the house and the family.
Which one first?

At the top she was confronted by a black-clad woman. For a moment she wondered if it was the dowager, but, if so, she'd been mistaken in all her impressions.

“The dowager Lady Dauntry wishes you to visit her, my lady.”

Ah, the Irish maid, as was confirmed by a slight accent, and sent with a summons. Not at all surprising that Sillikin was staring.

“Of course,” Kitty said pleasantly. “In a little while.”

She went on to her rooms. Perhaps she was seeing skirmishes where none existed, but she'd go odds the dowager knew Braydon was out and hoped to get Kitty alone.

Henry was waiting to take the gloves and cloak.

“I've been commanded to the presence,” Kitty said. “I'll go, but after a meaningful delay.”

“You don't want to wait until his lordship returns?”

That sentence was open to various interpretations.

“I don't know when that will be, and it might be best to meet woman to woman. Am I suitably dressed?” The sage green gown was rather plain.

“Perfectly adequate,” Henry said, “but you could wear the shawl.”

“The cashmere?”

“The house is chilly between rooms. Let's see.” Henry took the shawl and placed it around Kitty's shoulders, as if it had been an everyday one. Then she crossed it at the front, as a simple woman might do, and tied the ends at the back.

“I can't wear such a shawl like this,” Kitty protested.

“A viscountess may do as she pleases. A wealthy viscountess may be careless of expensive items.”

A wealthy viscountess.
The pin money arranged in the settlements was generous, and this house was very fine, but if Isabella had spoken the truth about her inheritance, there might not be funds for extravagance.

She wouldn't ask anyone else, but Henry was his aunt's maid and confidant. “Is Dauntry wealthy in his own right?”

“There's many richer, dear, but his uncle had a way with money and left him well provided for. With all my worldly goods . . .” she reminded.

Which meant, in theory, Kitty was also now well provided for.

She studied herself in the mirror. The dull green was an excellent background for the shawl, but as the deeply embroidered ends were now behind, it didn't look completely outrageous. The embroidery running along the edges was simply pleasing.

“Very well. Which door across the way enters the dowager's boudoir?”

“The second. Cullinan will be with her.” It was a warning.

“You don't have a high opinion of her?”

“I can't decide if she's haughty or uncouth, but I've no time for her.”

Kitty was surprised to hear such disdain. “Perhaps you could test her out by asking advice.”

“From
her
?”

“Not about your work,” Kitty said quickly. “About where something is, perhaps.”

Henry's ruffles smoothed down. “I could do that, I suppose, though she's the last I'd ask in the normal way of doing things. I see her only at meals. She's the sort who spends all her time with her mistress.”

“Is that common?”

“With some. Like a lady-in-waiting at court, always to hand. But that went out of fashion when bells became common. Most people don't want servants at their elbow all the time, seeing and hearing everything.”

“I certainly wouldn't. Not even you, Henry. I would like a deeper opinion of Cullinan, however.”

“Quite the little general, aren't you, dear?”

It was said with a smile, so Kitty didn't object. “I lived with soldiers for so long that I'm used to looking at the world that way. Here it seems appropriate. I'm going to leave Sillikin with you. I don't think she'll need anything whilst I'm on the far side of the world.”

“Where there be dragons?”

“Precisely. Into the fray.”

Kitty crossed the hall and knocked briskly on the second door. When it didn't quickly open, she opened it herself and went in. “You wished to see me, ma'am,” she said cheerfully to the woman in black, equal to equal. “I'm sorry it didn't seem convenient for us to meet
yesterday. I completely understand that you were unable to travel to the wedding.”

The overheated room was crammed with expensive furniture and ornaments, its walls thick with paintings. The air hung heavy with rose perfume, wood smoke, and dog. Three tiny white dogs were appropriately all in the dowager's ample black lap. The three of them would just about equal Sillikin.

The dowager stroked them with plump, beringed fingers. “See who we have here, my darlings. The new Viscountess Dauntry.”

She was fat, but could be described as comely, as some well-fleshed women could, with smooth, plump cheeks delicately aided by rouge. Her eyes were largely hidden by puffy lids. Black suited her, giving dignity to the mass, and her black cap with lappets and gauze veiling concealed most of her graying dark hair.

Kitty wondered for the first time how old she was. In her sixties, at least.

She was seated on a large chair that decidedly resembled a throne, her feet on an embroidered footstool. Kitty doubted even Queen Charlotte sat in a chair like that on a daily basis.

The maid was standing sentry just behind.

There was no sign of Isabella.

Kitty looked around, saw a straight chair with an upholstered seat, and moved it to a convenient spot, not too close to the fire, but facing the dowager. She sat and said, “Please accept my condolences on your losses, ma'am.”

“A hollow sentiment when it has provided you with such an opportunity.”

“I, too, grieve, ma'am—in my case, for my first husband.”

“That is not the same as the loss of a son!”

“Truly anyone can appreciate that, ma'am.”

“Not until they have suffered it.” Was the dowager truly wishing Kitty would one day?

“I lived with my mother-in-law for quite a while,” Kitty said, “and saw her grief daily. It is a bitter loss.”

“Cateril. A very
recent
elevation.” The sneer revealed long, darkened teeth.

“Nothing at all by comparison to the Godysons, ma'am. I understand they can be traced back to before the Conquest.”

“And the barony to 1176. A proud line brought down in the end to a mere woman—myself.”

“And to your granddaughter, ma'am.”

“The new viscount jilted Isabella to marry you.”

Kitty had expected that. “That can't be true,” she said calmly. “And a marriage of sixteen to nearly thirty is undesirable.”

“Not in dynastic situations. He raised her hopes and broke her heart.”

“I doubt that, ma'am. I remember that age. It's so easy to fall into infatuation with no encouragement at all. Whatever the case, he's married to me now, and that's an end of it.”

The dowager Lady Dauntry stared, definitely not accustomed to such blunt speech.

“As to Isabella,” Kitty continued, “I look forward to helping her to a good marriage in time. Thus your bloodline will continue.”

“Not in this house,” the dowager shouted, thumping the arm of her throne. “My life's work! And my name will die. Isabella is a Godyson-Braydon, but that will not continue.”

“It would become cumbersome,” Kitty agreed. “Godyson-Braydon-Cavendish or some such.”

“I see I provide you with amusement.”

“I was merely agreeing with you, ma'am.”

A dog yelped. Perhaps it had been squeezed. The dowager soothed it, but her eyes fixed on Kitty. “If any of my
other
sons had survived, I would have demanded that the Godyson barony be re-created for the eldest of them. God did not choose that it be so.”

And that put God on the list of enemies, Kitty suspected. Here was a woman obsessed with one thing, but Kitty was shocked to realize that she'd lost a number of children. However, she'd aimed that tragic information as a weapon. Cullinan's comforting hand on the dowager's shoulder was a supporting volley.

Kitty was tempted to point out that if the dowager had made Diane Dauntry happy here, there might have been many more vessels of the Godyson blood, but she wouldn't sink to petty cruelty. She took up a different line of attack. “I see that you won't want to continue to live here, ma'am, in a place that must remind you of all your losses.”

“I would never abandon my duties.”

“You may do so with honor, now I am here to shoulder them. I'm sure Dauntry will arrange for whatever home you prefer. He and I have only your best interests at heart.”

The woman's face was so set it could have been one of Madame Tussaud's wax models of victims of the guillotine, and the rouge looked garish. “I have lived here for more than forty years,” she said.

“And have made it beautiful.”

“You have the ability to recognize that?”

Kitty ignored the sneer. “I'm sure anyone would, ma'am. The viscountess's rooms were something of a shock.”

That brought the dowager back to life. “That woman had deplorable taste and she thwarted every attempt by me to improve matters. I was glad to see the back of her. Glad. She probably squandered her fertility on her lowborn lover.”

That sounded authoritative. “Do you know what happened to her, ma'am?”

“I have no interest in the strumpet.”

“Did she ever write to your son?”

“If she did, he didn't tell me of it.”

“Why didn't he divorce her so that he could marry again?”

“I have no idea, and he can no longer satisfy your impertinent curiosity. You may go.”

Kitty considered defying the command, but it would be a meaningless skirmish and she'd be glad to escape the heat and smell. But she had one point to make first. “I'm about to speak to the cook, ma'am. I will be ordering some dishes to my and Dauntry's taste, but I'll make sure ones that please you are always included. Please let me know if you perceive any lack. In that, or in any other aspect of the running of the house.”

A lapdog yelped again.

Having asserted her command, Kitty rose and left. The coolness outside was a relief, but she was careful not to show any reaction as she crossed to the other side of the house. She could have grinned. She'd met the dragon and there was nothing to her but bile and bluster.

She hoped Isabella would be as easy. Surely the girl would welcome escape from the dowager, and the prospect of a normal life.