Chapter 10
“Miss Butterworth, I found this on the table in the foyer. It was not delivered with the rest of the post. At least I do not believe it was,” said Lang, the butler, looking a tad chagrined.
“Thank you, Lang.” The letter was sealed with wax, but the seal had no discernible markings on it. The writing was a bit of a scrawl.
She opened it and her insides grew cold as she started to read it.
Dear Miss Butterworth
I am saddened once again to see that you have fallen from the righteous path. You are nothing but a harlot. Those bastards are no better than the woman who is raising them. I know you were left a substantial portion of money by your great aunt. I also know you have your cap set at Lord Whitsnow. He shall not marry you if he knows the truth. I want five hundred pounds left in the hole in the old oak tree near the waterfall on the evening of May Day celebrations. If it is not there, Lord Whitsnow will know who are the parents of the bastard deaf girl.
A concerned subject of King George III
Lucy felt like casting up her accounts. Who could have written such a thing and how did they know so much? She thought the secret of Eleanor’s parentage was safe. She thought the shame of her past behaviour unknown. With shaking hands, she shoved the note into the pocket of her day dress and hurried out onto the terrace for some fresh air.
She was gasping in some much-needed air when a low voice spoke in her ear.
“You look delicious this morning.”
“Get away from me, you beast. Go, get away!” She turned flapping her arms and waving him away.” He stepped back, his hands raised in surrender, his eyes wide with alarm and concern.
“Lucy! What the devil…”
She stopped flapping and hauled in another breath of air. Sanity seemed to return to her. She closed her eyes as shame swept over her.
“I apologise, My Lord. You startled me.”
“I shall be heavier footed in future.” She nearly managed a smile at that. “Are you sure you are well?”
“Quite well. I just had a letter that upset me a little. But I am fine.”
“Can I help?”
“No, it is personal.”
“I see. Well if you need anything at all, please ask.”
Unless he had five hundred pounds he was willing to give her with no questions asked, she doubted he could help with this problem.
Shouting from the other side of the house drew both their attention. It looked like she would have to work out what to do about her blackmailer later. It was still two weeks until May Day. They hurried around the outside of the house in time to see two coaches pulling up. A fine-looking gentleman disembarked once the steps were placed at the door and he handed down a pretty blonde lady who sought out Robert and came barrelling towards him, almost falling on the way and threw her arms around him.
“Robert.”
“Clumsy!”
“Oh, you beast. You are not supposed to call me that anymore.”
“Force of habit. Besides, my precious baby sister, how would you cope if I was nice to you. You would think I was my twin brother pretending to be me.”
“There is a flaw in your argument.”
“Oh yes.”
“You do not have a twin brother.”
“I do. He has been locked in the attic for thirty years.”
“Oooh that sounds like a gothic novel. You should write it.”
“I really should not.”
“You are so boring, brother dearest.”
“I know. It is a cross I must bear. That means you do not have to try very hard to be the fun-loving sibling.”
“That tree is more fun-loving than you Robbie.”
“You are too kind. Anyway, how is Lady Clumsy treating my nephew or niece.”
“More to the point, how is your nephew or niece treating Lady Clumsy. He or she hates me. It’s always kicking me. In the stomach or in the bladder. I constantly have to go to the necessary.”
“It is a trial, is it not?” said Lucy without thinking. Both Lord Whitsnow and Lady Beattie looked at her.
“Miss Butterworth?” inquired Lady Beattie.
“Yes.”
“Oh, how lovely to see you. It will be so nice to catch up with all the old neighbours. Robert, have you suddenly become sociable and started inviting the neighbours over. How hospitable of you. I am sorry he did not do it sooner. He’s such a beast. How are the children? I am so sorry about your great aunt.”
Lucy was wrapped in an embrace, her faux pas forgotten, and they ended up in the drawing room having tea.
“You wrote to me just days ago begging me to come to Town yet here you are,” Robert said. You very nearly arrived before your letter.
“Well, yes, I knew you were not going to come so I had no fear of us passing you on the Great North Road. But you may have taken fright and run off somewhere had I not written my usual letter. So, I filled it with my usually requests and news.”
“You think so little of me that I would beat a hasty and cowardly retreat to Scotland if I knew you were coming?” Robert asked.
“I would have before I met Emily and fell head over ears in love,” said Gideon.
Emily waved the men aside. “So, what brings you to Aelton Manor Miss Butterworth?”
“I am currently staying here while Lord Whitsnow finds us more suitable accommodation.”
“Are you?” asked Lord Beattie. “Is that wholly appropriate, Whitsnow. There shall be talk.”
“It is none of your business. Besides, Miss Davis is here.”
“This is Miss Davis whom we have not seen yet.”
Robert narrowed his eyes at Lord Beattie. “You spent a week in a carriage with my unmarried sister. You are not in any position to talk, Beattie.”
“I believe that I was eloping with your sister and had every intention of marrying her.”
“And I have every intention of marrying Miss Butterworth.”
“You do? Oh, how marvellous!” exclaimed Emily. “We shall be sisters. Much better a sister than a beastly brother. Oh, not that he is such a beast. Just when we were children.”
“Clumsy,” Robert warned.
“Whitsnow, are you trying to get me to plant you a facer?”
Robert smirked and adjusted his shirt cuffs. “You think you could best me in the ring, Beattie? I should like to see you try.”
“Really boys. This is not a competition to see who can urinate over the wall.” They both turned raised eyebrows at Miss Butterworth. “What? I am raising six boys and a girl. You do not think I know the games they play; how competitive they are and that they compete to see who can urinate the highest when no one is looking? I am not a complete imbecile.”
“And yet you have put yourself in a position where you may very well have to live with Whitsnow for the rest of your earthly life… and who knows, possibly for eternity. Would you like to revisit your last statement, ma’am?” drawled Beattie before lifting his teacup. But he spilled half of it and yelped when his wife stood, rounded the back of the chaise and tweaked his ear.
“That is unkind, Gideon. I thought better of you.”
“That hurt. I thought you loved me.”
“I do. And it is my duty as your wife to make you a better and kinder person.”
“I am kind, my darling. At least to you. Do you not remember this morning?”
“Gideon!” Her voice was full of false censure and Robert was sure he was about to cast up his accounts on the beautiful Persian rug.
“I apologise for my kin, Miss Butterworth. We did try to bring Emily up to be a lady, but she was inept and then she married Beattie, and all was lost.”
Lucy chuckled, and it slightly alleviated the red tinge to her cheeks. Clearly Beattie’s words bothered her, and he felt a bit of an ass for the position in which he’d placed her. Though she could easily have refused to come and stay at the manor. And she still seemed very against the idea of marriage.
He was brought out of his reverie by a knock on the door. It was Miss Davis holding Henry by the jacket at arm’s length.
“Come in Miss Davis,” Robert said, keen to show that they did indeed have a chaperone.
“No, no, um, I think Miss Butterworth should come and see this. We, uh, we have a situation.”
“A situation?” asked Lucy getting to her feet. “What kind of situation?”
“Henry may be unwell.”
“Bring him in,” said Emily.
“He may be infectious.”
“What do you think he has?” asked Lucy, When Miss Davis moved the boy slightly into the light of the room and out of the shadows of the large hallway, it was obvious. The rash on his face and neck looked like measles to Robert. He and Emily had been ill one summer with it. A mild case which had lasted only three or four days.
“Oh yes, that does look like the measles. I had it when… uh… about six years ago.”
“You should stay away Lady Beattie. What if it is something you haven’t had. Ladies in your condition can never be too careful.”
“Nonsense. This looks just like what I had when I was a child. I shall be fine.” She felt the child’s forehead.” He has a fever. He needs to be in bed with cool damp cloths on his head. We must check the other children.
Lucy, Susan and Emily disappeared, and Beattie and Robert looked at each other.
“Are you sure that is what you and Emily had as children? I don’t want Emily getting ill,” said Beattie, his brow furrowed.
“It looks the same to me. My cousin caught it a few years later during the summer and I recall his symptoms too.”
“Good. I shall hold you personally responsible if Emily becomes ill.”
Beattie’s eyes were dark and threatening.
“I should call you out for that. She’s my sister and I would never allow harm to come to her.”
“You bullied her all her life.”
“I teased her. I did not know she took it personally and she never mentioned it until you turned up here with her in tow, ready to marry her. She’s my only family. I would never willingly or knowingly hurt her. I love her.”
“Not as much as I do.”
He raised an eyebrow at Beattie.
“I love her in a different way, but I’ve loved her since I looked over the edge of the crib at her little wrinkled red face. I may have teased her, but remember I was willing to kill you in defence of her honour. Never doubt that I love her as much as you do.”
“I would not just kill for her. I would die for her.”
“As would I.”
Beattie narrowed his gaze on Robert, seemed to read the truth in this statement and nodded.
“And Miss Butterworth?”
Robert stilled.
“What about her?”
“Would you kill for her?”
“I barely know her.”
“You did not answer the question.”
“I do not intend to either.”
Beattie’s smile was smug, and Robert wanted to wipe it off his face, with a fist. Instead he straightened his own cuff and found some lint on his coat that had to be removed, urgently.
“You are enamoured of the lady.”
“I wish to marry her. That is all. I do not believe in all this love-match nonsense. She is well-bred, pretty, sturdy for child-rearing and has good manners. It is all I require.”
“Pretty. She is that.”
“You are already married. To my sister.”
“My dear fellow, one does not have to purchase the boots in the shop window to admire the workmanship.”
Robert was beginning to feel a red haze descending in front of his vision
“The lady is not a pair of damned boots.”
“I see your feelings for her have addled your ability to understand metaphors.”
“That was an insult, not a metaphor.”
“Good God, it was a metaphor, man. I have no sexual interest in Miss Butterworth. I love your sister to distraction. I am addle-pated over Emily.”
“Well, thank heavens for that. I should hate to have to slap a glove in Miss Butterworth’s face and challenge her to pistols at dawn,” came a voice from the doorway. They both looked up to see a grinning Emily. “Are we discussing Robert’s tendre for Lucy? She is lovely and definitely the right kind of woman for him. She shall not be brow-beaten by the brute.”
“I am not a brute,” protested Robert, frowning and looking for more lint on his coat and sadly finding none.
Emily made a face that suggested she was less convinced by his statement than he. “You can be. You can be moody and dour and just a little… oh how to put it.”
“Charming?” he suggested.
Emily burst out laughing. “I was thinking boorish.”
“I shall have you know I am much sought-after at balls and festivities when I visit London.”
“Because you’re titled, rich as Croesus and you have all your teeth. Not to mention you are less than ninety years old. That makes you quite a catch for the mamas of the ton.”
He sighed. “Thank you, sister dear. You do know how to wound a fellow.”
“I am not saying you do not have your good qualities, Robert.”
“Name them.”
She blinked a few times then bit her lip.
“You are faithful and loyal to a fault.”
“Never mind.”
“You are handsome. At least I would presume. Obviously, I would never but…”
“Please, Emily, stop. We have established I lack good graces and good looks and anything a woman would desire except money and title.”
“You are handsome.”
All three turned to the door to see Miss Butterworth, her cheeks aflame standing in the doorway with Miss Davis at her shoulder.
“There. I can hardly judge my brother now, can I?” said Emily. “Miss Butterworth is a better judge. How is Henry?”
“He has a slight fever, but he is asking to go out and see the horses, so he must not be too ill. David and Stephen also have symptoms and Eleanor seems a little lethargic. They have all been put to bed.”
“Let us hope they get well soon.”
“Perhaps we should go home, love,” said Beattie.
“No. I am fine. And so is the baby.”
“Do not molly-coddle her. Emily knows her own abilities. She always has,” growled Robert. He may sound like a miserable old man around his sister, but he was secretly pleased she was here. She had always been such a cheerful person and her mischief had brought him out of himself. Besides, it gave Miss Butterworth better support against wagging tongues in case he was unable to convince her to marry him. After all, they had only been able to agree he was handsome. That did not bode well. “I care for her.”
“As do I.”
“I am in the room, you know,” protested Emily. “Honestly. you are like a pair of magpies.”
“One for sorrow, two for joy,” intoned Robert.
“You two bring me no joy at present.”
“Why were you discussing if Lord Whitsnow was handsome or not?” asked Lucy suddenly.
“We were trying to decide his good qualities,” explained Emily. “I must say, as his sister, I was rather stuck.”
“Well, honest, respectful, handsome, funny, interesting, kind, caring…” she blushed then and bit her lip as if whatever she was thinking was really quite inappropriate.
“We are discussing Robert, are we not? Kind and caring?”
“You should see him with the children. He was playing cricket with them. And he’s been teaching them to ride.”
“Robert has? My brother, Robert?” asked Emily, turning big eyes on him.
“I am not an ogre. I taught you to ride, Em.”
She considered that. “You did. And you were very patient as I recall.”
“There is another,” put in Lucy.
“He can be patient when he wants to be.”
“I am here, you know.” He was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Emily snickered, and Robert glowered at her.
“You were mostly a nice big brother. You were only mildly beastly, and you will make an excellent father to Miss Butterworth’s children, whether her orphans or her real children,” said Emily getting up and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Now, I am going for a rest. This child is making me terribly sleepy.” She stood up from the short hug. “Gideon darling, will you see me to our room.”
Beattie suddenly looked extremely keen to accompany Emily to their room. Robert did not want to know why. He had a vague notion of the reason why and he really wished to avoid pondering on it too long.
“I shall check the other children,” said Miss Davis. I left them reading. I shall check in on Henry and the others on my way.”
“Thank you, Susan,” said Lucy and then she sat next to the tea tray.
“Would you like some more?”
He looked down at the untouched beverage in his hand.
“I despise tea. I prefer coffee.”
She studied him. “A member of the much-vaunted ton who does not like tea. Does the Prince Regent know about this?”
“I doubt Prinny would give a damn. He prefers champagne and brandy.”
“Really? Have you met him?”
“Of course.”
“You speak of meeting our future king as if it were nothing, My Lord.”
“He is just a man. One with much wealth and privilege and a lot of responsibility but he is very much a flawed human being. Do not elevate him to god-like status. The Roman tried that with their emperors.”
“I do not. I just… We come from such different worlds.”
“We both hail from Cumberland. We both bend down against the wind and rain and breathe a sigh of relief when we see the first snowdrops of spring. We both know it is a very long way to London.”
“We both know society shall think me presumptuous to try and land an earl, even if I were willing to marry you—which I am not.”
“We both know you want to, but something is holding you back. Just as we both know that you want me to kiss you.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Now you are being very presumptuous, My Lord.”
“Tell me that I lie. Tell me it is a falsehood.” He licked his lips and her gaze followed his tongue. Robert smiled, pleased that he had piqued her interest. He would kiss her soon and she would kiss him back, very willingly. But for now, he stood and bowed, placing his cup back on the tea tray.
“Please keep me abreast of the situation with regards to the children and their illness. I have estate work that must be done.”
He adjusted the tails of his jacket and left aware of her gaze burning a hole in his back. She was definitely affected by him. He would wager she was every bit as affected by him as he was by her. As he tugged at the waist of his breeches, they did not show just how much she affected him, he reckoned that Lucy was the lucky one, in this scenario at least. If she was aroused, at least it did not show.
For all women got a very raw deal in life, in this one aspect, they were lucky indeed, he thought, considering his hard, unsatisfied prick, knowing whatever happened, it would be quite sometime before he found real relief.