Wicked Earl Seeks Proper Heiress (17 page)

“We are miles and miles from the castle,” Eustace said scornfully.

“Yes, but we are very close to Lady Averil’s old nanny’s house,” Beth replied tartly. “Do sit up, Eustace, you’re slouching dreadfully.”

Actually, Eustace looked a little shaken, and Averil supposed he was remembering the horrible Mrs. Slater again. To distract him, she said, “I imagine you will be able to run about with Hercules while we’re there. And if I remember rightly, Nanny Fredericks always made the most delicious cakes.”

She was glad to see Eustace lose his pinched look and smile.

“Hercules needs a good run,” Violet said, and patted the dog’s big head. Averil had found the girl to be good company on the journey, not at all the sullen creature she had been at the Home. It was as if once Violet left London behind she had become a completely different person, but perhaps that was only because she was no longer weighed down with whatever secrets were making her so afraid.

“Is this visit about your sister?” she said now.

“That is none of your business,” Beth interrupted.

“I don’t mind,” Averil assured Beth, and smiled at Violet. “Yes, it is about my sister. I suppose you’ve heard me speak of her?”

“Sally said you were looking for her.”

“Sally Jakes?” Averil tried not to sound as surprised as she felt. How did Violet know Sally?

“Sometimes we have to go to The Tin Soldier,” Violet said airily, but she wouldn’t look at Averil. “To see if any of the women are there when they shouldn’t be.”

Averil opened up a little more, in the hope it would encourage Violet to do similar. “My mother and sister lived at The Tin Soldier before my mother died. Afterward my sister vanished and now I want to find her.”

Violet looked interested. “What was her name then?”

“Rose. I think. I feel as if I remember her being called Rose, anyway.”

“So many of the little ’uns go missing in the East End,” Violet said, almost gently. “I’m glad you’re looking, Lady Averil.”

By now the coach had come to a village and was rattling along the high street. The coachman stopped to ask directions, and soon they drew up outside a neat little whitewashed cottage, opposite the church. Almost immediately an elderly woman came out of the front door and stood at the gate, glaring suspiciously at the coat of arms on the door.

Averil recognized her at once. Although the nanny she’d had as a child had been younger and slimmer, there was still something about this woman that was familiar and brought her memories back. Although not all of them, unfortunately, were happy ones.

Rufus had dismounted and a moment later Eustace and Hercules erupted from the coach, followed by Averil, Beth, and Violet.

“Oh dear!” the old woman declared, her eyes widening. “So many of you.”

“Nanny Fredericks?” Averil came to take her hands warmly in her own. “Do you remember me?”

The old woman peered up at her with eyes that looked cloudy. “Dear child,” she said, her voice shaky. “Of course I remember you. Do, do, come inside.” She gave Hercules a rather uneasy look.

“Perhaps Eustace can stay out in the garden with Hercules?” Rufus suggested. “He is rather big, isn’t he?”

“More like a horse than a dog,” Averil agreed, giving him a grateful smile.

He smiled back. Averil thought the ride had done him good; he looked less caught up in his own thoughts. Before, when they’d set out, he’d seemed distant and moody, but now his eyes were warm and amused when they rested on her.

She wished she understood him better. She wished she knew what was going on in his head sometimes. Averil was aware she had a tendency to try to fix things—and people—and reminded herself that Rufus was a grown man and would not look kindly upon her interference. No matter how much she wanted to give it.

Once inside the cottage, Nanny Fredericks’s niece carried in the tea and cake, and Violet took some out to Eustace. Averil had introduced the earl, and now she introduced Beth.

“Well, it was you I wanted to see,” the old woman said a little testily. “No need to bring me titled gentlemen and companions, my dear. I often think about you, when you were a baby, and your mother. And father,” she added, her lips tightening. “I hate to speak ill of the dead, but he turned rather nasty at the end. He could have softened his heart toward your poor mother, but instead he hardened it. Oh well, they’re all gone now, and the big house, too, sold off to strangers.”

“It’s still there then?” Averil asked. “I remember it, a little. Of course I was four when my father died and left me an orphan.”

“And then you were shuffled off to your father’s trustees and their idea of how a child should be taken care of,” Nanny Fredericks clearly disagreed.

Averil smiled at Beth. “I had the best of carers, nanny.”

“Humph.”

“In your letter you said that you had something of my mother’s to give me?”

“Yes, that’s right. She gave it to me when I visited her that last time in London, when I took you to see her, do you remember? I put it aside—I thought your father would take it from you—then I quite forgot about it. It was your letter that reminded me, and I searched it out the other day to give it to you, my dear.”

Averil was touched by her kindness. “Thank you, nanny.”

When the niece came back to freshen up their cups, Nanny Fredericks directed her to a small desk in the corner and the item wrapped in a cloth in the drawer.

Tentatively Averil unwrapped it, and saw that it was a locket. Beautifully made, with silver filigrees and precious stones set around the central miniature portrait of her mother. It looked expensive and Averil wondered why her mother had not sold it, to keep herself and her daughter safe a little longer. But from what Rufus had said, her mother had refused payment from Percival’s parents, too.

For a moment she gazed down upon the face she barely remembered. The beautiful and unreliable Lady Anastasia.

“There, you have it now.” Mrs. Fredericks was watching her and gave a satisfied nod. “It was what she wanted.”

“I am most grateful to you, nanny.” Averil blinked back her own tears. Beth reached across to pat her hand, and noticing it Nanny glared. Evidently she was the only one allowed such familiarity.

Rufus cleared his throat. “Lady Averil said that you’ve remembered something about her sister,” he said, and received his own glare. “Mrs. Fredericks, let me explain. I am helping Lady Averil to find her sister, and anything you can tell us may be important.”

The old nanny’s expression softened, but Averil thought that was more to do with Rufus’s charm than anything else. “I see now, thank you for explaining it to me, my lord. Well, it isn’t a great deal, but I thought it might help, as you say.” She settled herself more comfortably in her chair. “When I went to see Lady Anastasia, and I went quite a few times, although only the once with you, child. Well, that other woman was always there, sticking her nose in, trying to take over the conversation. I don’t know how Lady Anastasia put up with her, but then she was always so kind. Too kind. As you know, her kindness did for her in the end.”

Averil wondered if kindness really had anything to do with her mother bolting with her lover, but this wasn’t the time to quibble. “What other woman, nanny?”

“Sally, her name was. Nasty creature. Jealous, I’d say. Lady Anastasia was so beautiful, and Sally was a freckly thing.”

Averil took this in, exchanging a glance with Rufus. Sally, again. The woman seemed to crop up everywhere.

“What was the baby called, nanny? Do you recall? Sally thought it was Rose.”

“Rose, that’s it,” Nanny said, with a decisive nod of her head. “She had skin like rose petals, and that’s why your mother said she would call her Rose.”

Averil sighed, sadness washing over her.

Nanny leaned forward, her old face creased with determination. “I think that if anyone knows what happened to your sister, my dear, then it is that Sally woman. Don’t you trust her, take my advice.”

Averil exchanged another glance with Rufus. They would need to follow up some of these questions, but it was no use worrying about it now. Southbrook Castle awaited them.

Soon afterward they took their leave. As the others were settling themselves back into the coach, Averil remained with Nanny a moment longer, holding her hand and thanking her again for her kindness and hospitality. Nanny Fredericks was smiling and nodding, and then suddenly she looked beyond her and jumped quite violently.

“Nanny? What is it?”

“My goodness,” the old woman said. “For a moment I thought I saw your mother! It gave me quite a start. My eyes are not as good as they used to be, my dear.”

“My mother?” Averil followed the direction of her gaze. Beth was just climbing into the coach. She supposed, if she had bad eyesight, then from the back, Beth might almost be of a similar build to her mother.

“I miss her, you know,” Nanny went on sadly. “Lady Anastasia was so full of life. As if there wasn’t a moment in the day she didn’t have to fill. Everything around her was bustle and commotion. Once she was gone the big house felt like a mausoleum.”

“Yes. I remember the silence. My father locked himself away in his rooms. It was horrid.”

“She shouldn’t have done it. I told her that and I think she knew she had made an error of judgment, but still . . . She was such a dear. One couldn’t help but forgive her.”

Averil wondered if she would have been so generous. When her father had spoken to her, that once, she’d seen the misery in his eyes. He’d come to her the morning after her mother left. “Your mother is gone,” he’d said, and she saw his lips tremble before he tightened them. “I should never have married her, Averil, but I thought I might change her. And she was so beautiful. Now she is gone and we must go on with our lives as best we can without her. We will never speak of her again.” And with that he touched his hand briefly to her head and left her, calling for her nanny.

Now she smiled and kissed the old woman’s cheek, and promised to come back again soon.

Rufus was waiting to help her up the step, and he leaned close to murmur in her ear. “Sally. And no doubt Jackson. I think we need to talk to them both when we get back to London.”

“I agree.”

“Are you all right? This has been an emotional visit for you, Averil.”

Averil managed a smile, and held out the locket for him to see. “My mother,” she said.

Rufus examined the face on the locket. “She’s very beautiful.” He looked up again, his eyes lingering a moment on her own face. “Like her daughter.”

She reached up as if to touch his cheek, but thought better of it. His gaze slid from her eyes to her lips and back again. Was he going to kiss her, here, in front of everyone? Averil rather wished he would, but then he, too, thought better of it and turned away to his horse.

Once inside the coach, she tried to pull her thoughts together. Beth was eager to discuss matters, but Averil didn’t want to do that in front of the others, especially Violet, and she surreptitiously shook her head. They’d be stopping at an inn for the night and they could talk then. Averil sighed, the journey seemed to stretch on before her, but a moment later Rufus rode by the window on Midnight and she smiled.

She was looking forward to seeing Southbrook Castle, and spending time with its master. She tucked a strand of truant hair behind her ear, and remembered her dream. Perhaps if she closed her eyes she could get back to it?

R
ufus had sent James ahead to see that the castle was in some sort of order when he arrived. He was also to collect Great-Aunt Mildred on the way from her home in Cambridge, and to take no notice if she protested. He also had instructions to hire servants from the village and give the reception rooms a good clean, as well as the bedrooms to be used by their guests. The other rooms—in fact, the entire north wing—was to be closed up. Best if no one saw the state of it or they might begin to ask questions Rufus would rather not have to answer.

He would have gone ahead to do all this himself—he was already feeling anxious to have trusted his uncle with such crucial work—but he’d felt he should be here, with Averil and his son. Would James be able to get everything done? He had to admit his uncle was improving. Perhaps it was Beth’s influence?

Just before he left for Southbrook a week ago, James had been babbling on about hiring a French cook and impressing their guests with lavish meals. Rufus thought it was probably Beth he wanted to impress, and inquired of his uncle how he expected to pay for it. James had tapped his nose.

“Ways and means, my boy.”

Rufus knew that as soon as the visit was over, the cook would leave, as would the extra servants, and Southbrook Castle would slide once more into the drafty, broken-down pile of stone it was.

Was he a fool to want Averil to see the place at its best? Not just because of his plan to marry her and use her money to turn things around, but because he loved Southbrook and he wanted her to love it, too. He supposed it was deceitful, and probably ridiculous pride on his part. Because, in the unlikely event that she were to marry him, how would he explain the truth to her?

“My dear, please can you let me have another several hundred pounds of your inheritance so that I can fix the north wing ceilings?”

But then again, once they were wed, the money would be his and he wouldn’t have to ask her for it. He could take what he liked and use it as he wished. Rufus was aware this was the way of his world and yet the idea made him uncomfortable.

Rufus urged Midnight on and the big horse loped into a gallop. They passed the coach, leaving it far behind, and with the wind in his face and the road before him, he felt better. He was going home and he was bringing Averil with him and perhaps, somehow, he would pull this off.

A
veril thought the castle was like something out of a nursery tale; it was easy to imagine fairies hiding in the trees and elves rustling through the grass. She could hear the others oohing and awing around her, except Eustace, who was looking smug, and Hercules, who really couldn’t wait to get out of the coach.