Chapter 14
“So, let me make sure I understand, Jess and me ride out with you and Miss Butterworth for the sake of appearance but Jess and me get the afternoon to ourselves at the small waterfalls while you and Miss Butterworth ride on to the large waterfall,” Maxwell asked as he handed Robert a pair of buckskin breeches.
“Yes, that is basically the plan.”
“And if anyone asks?”
“Are they likely to ask?”
“Not really?”
“Well then?”
“But what if they do ask, My Lord?”
“Then lie.”
“That’s a sin, My Lord.” His valet thought he was being funny. Robert narrowed his gaze on the servant.
“I may have thought you concerned for your immortal soul John Maxwell if I had not witnessed you several times crossing your fingers behind your back in church as you mutter the Lord’s prayer at the side of your poor mama. That poor woman has no idea what a heathen she has for a son.”
“You are no saint, My Lord. I do your washing remember.”
“I was not claiming sainthood. Nor was I claiming to be an innocent country boy for whom the idea of lying is abhorrent. What do you want?”
“To marry Jess.”
“I am not the one you need to ask.”
“I can hardly stay in the male servant quarters and she in the female servant quarters if we are wed.”
Ah! It all made sense now.
“I shall speak to the land steward and find out if there are any cottages available. Ask your lass to marry you and we’ll make sure you have a home to take her home to on your wedding night.”
Maxwell was wringing a cravat in his hands. The poor fellow was going to have to iron it again. “Oh, thank you, My Lord. I do appreciate it. And I do apologise if I was rude or over familiar.”
Robert waved his apology away.
“Do not be daft, man. You have been my valet since I was sixteen and became the Earl of Whitsnow. You were just a lad of eighteen yourself. We have been through much together. You know my darkest secrets and my best achievements. In this room, if you do your job, a little joking is more than acceptable. It breaks the monotony. Except for Reid’s stay last winter, you’ve been all the male company I’ve had. Well you and Croxley my land steward but he’s a fusty old devil.”
“Very good, sir. I shall get your things together, then I shall go and let Jess know.”
“You do that. I want to look in on the schoolroom.”
He left his bedchamber and headed through the large mansion towards the nursery. Emily was meandering through the large upstairs hallway and he stopped to give her a warm embrace and wish her a good day. He had not seen as much of her as he would like this visit. He was far too preoccupied with Lucy.
“Where are you going?”
“Lucy, I mean Miss Butterworth, asked me to consider putting Miss Davis forward as the new schoolteacher when Mr Crossman retires. She thinks Miss Davis is doing a splendid job. I want to see for myself.”
“You do not trust Miss Butterworth’s opinion?”
“I do. I just feel that if it is my recommendation, I should be the one making the judgement. Emily, I know I treated you badly but…”
“No, it’s not that… it is just… women are never taken seriously for their judgements. This is nothing to do with you and me.”
“Would it help if I said if Beattie had said the same thing I would still go and see Miss Davis?”
“But you dislike Gideon.”
“I do not dislike Gideon. If I disliked him he would be dead. The fact you are married to him and carrying his child proves I like him.”
“Oh, you are a brute.”
“God Emily, please assure me it is Beattie’s child.”
She punched him on the arm. “Of course it is. You are such a beast Robbie.”
“I know but I’m only a beast to you because I care for you.”
“Come, shall we go together and see how Miss Davis is faring and you can give me your female view.”
She nodded and took his arm. Her bright sunny smile told him he had done the right thing. For years he had been mean to her, not realising that some of the things he had said had damaged her confidence. She was clumsy and forgetful and spoke too loudly, but Beattie had taken him aside and had explained how his chastisements had affected his little sister. Now he wanted to help.
They reached the top of the stairs.
“Six sixes are thirty-four” came a stuttering little voice.
“No! Wrong, wrong, wrong!”
Robert looked at his sister. Her face was a picture and told the story that was going on in his head. Miss Davis had shrieked at the poor child who had made a mistake.
“Sorry Miss Davis.”
“Out to the front.”
There was a scuffling of boots on the wooden floor.
“Stop snivelling, you ungrateful wretch. What are you?”
“An orphan, Miss Davis.”
“And what will you always be?”
“An orphan, Miss Davis.”
“Miss Davis?” It was another boy’s voice.
“Yes Jonathan?”
“Tommy’s ma only died three months ago. Miss Butterworth only just took him in. He’s still real upset about being an orphan. This is cruel.”
“This is a cruel world, Jonathan.”
When a racking sob rent the air, Robert opened the door.
“Go to the boy,” he murmured to Emily. His sister pushed past him and hurried to the young boy who looked to be about eight. His wide wet eyes showed his distress, but he was rooted to the spot. Miss Davis stood, a ruler in one hand a pointer in the other.
“Miss Davis, I was just… uh… passing. May I have a word outside, please.” He did an internal eyeroll. The only thing on this floor was the nursery and the schoolroom.
Miss Davis, who was still glaring at the boy, slowly turned her head to Robert and nodded, blowing a few strands of her mousy brown hair which had escaped her severe knot out of her red face.
“Lady Beattie, we shall be in my study, are you fine to carry on with the children meantime?” Emily showed a moment’s hesitation and Robert nodded. She was bright and capable, and these boys were well-behaved. “Nurse is next door if you need any assistance.” He knew she would need none, but her shoulders relaxed, and she gave him a beatific smile. He gave her a little wink before he left with Miss Davis trailing at his heels. He was not in the mood to give this wench the normal courtesy he would show a young lady.
On the staircase down to the ground floor they met Lucy.
“My Lord, Miss Davis, this is… what is going on?”
“Perhaps you would like to join us in my study Miss Butterworth. You can hear for yourself.”
They arrived in the study and he offered them all a drink. Lucy accepted a cordial and he took a brandy. It was far too early for spirits, but he needed one. When a tap came at the door he called for the visitor to enter.
“Emily, what…?”
“I called for the nurse. Not because I could not manage but I felt I should be here and to discuss what I witnessed.”
“You witnessed the same as me.”
“True, but a woman may have a different perspective.”
He rose an eyebrow but beckoned her in.
“Miss Davis when my sister and I arrived at the top of the stairs Tommy got a multiplication wrong.”
“What multiplication?” asked Lucy.
“Six sixes.”
“Tommy has had little schooling. He is only at the three times table.”
“Would you like to tell Miss Butterworth what you did when he made a mistake, Miss Davis?”
“I scolded him. There is nothing wrong with that.”
Robert sat back in his chair. She was an impudent little witch. Did she really see nothing wrong with how she had treated the child?
“What did you ask him?”
“I asked him what he was?”
“What answer did you expect?”
“An orphan.”
“Were you aware that Tommy’s mother died only three months ago.”
“Of course she is,” exclaimed Lucy. She lives next door to where Tommy lived with his mother. “Susan, how could you?”
“He has to learn. They all do. Life is not all sunshine and roses and earl’s offering to marry you.”
“No, it’s not but people can still be kind, even to the least of us. Is that not what Jesus taught?”
Robert arched an eyebrow. Lucy was good at delivering lectures to people who needed them.
“Not everyone is kind, Lucy and they won’t be kind to you if you marry him.”
“You told her?” Robert asked.
Lucy shrugged. “I had to confide in someone.”
“You could have confided in me.”
“No, I cannot. You are the one pushing me.”
Robert groaned. He was. She was of course correct. He turned to his sister. “Em, how long are you and Beattie planning to stay?”
“As long as you want us to stay.”
“Then we have no need for Miss Davis’ chaperone. Miss Davis, I shall give you some money as payment for your services and arrange transport home for you this afternoon. Please pack your things.”
“As you wish. I did not wish to stay in this den of iniquity anyway. I know he steals kisses from you and probably a lot more. Beware Miss Butterworth. Is your reputation worth a house in the country for a few bastards?”
“And if I hear of Miss Butterworth’s reputation being sullied by you or anyone else in this village, it shall be known how you treat defenceless children, do you hear, Miss Davis?”
“Yes, My Lord,” muttered Miss Davis as she bobbed the shallowest curtsey possible and left the room.
“Well, I suppose our picnic shall have to be cancelled,” said Lucy with a little sigh, sitting herself demurely on a chaise near his desk. He rested his backside on the top of the desk and folded his arms. She was probably right.
“You are going on a picnic?” asked Emily.
“Correction. We were going on a picnic. It seems we are now not going on a picnic.”
“Oh, pish posh. I can help nurse look after the children. I am not a complete incompetent and Gideon can help too.”
Robert considered her. “You would not mind?”
“That would be a terrible imposition,” said Lucy almost at the same time.”
“Not at all. It is no imposition. They all seem pleasant enough young men and Eleanor is so sweet. She seems to like me.”
“Then it is settled,” said Robert.
“Wait, no. Are you absolutely certain, My Lady?” asked Lucy.
“Yes, and please call me Emily. I would enjoy something different to do.”
“Thank you, Em,” said Robert, hoping she understood how much this meant to him. She bit her lip.
“Do not do anything I would not do.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Like elope to Scotland?”
“I appreciate you have plenty of latitude.”
He chuckled, and she left the room.
“We are not eloping to Scotland,” said Lucy.
“Not yet but marrying in Scotland is not a stupid idea. It dispenses with the need for banns.”
“It is not a proper wedding.”
He approached her, and she stood, meeting him head on. He placed one hand around her waist as his lips pressed little kisses to the side of her neck. She smelled and tasted glorious. He massaged her breast with his free hand as he pressed her bottom, so she was flush against him.
“Hmm, not a proper wedding?” He asked between kisses. “In that case, you should hurry out to the garden and speak to Lord Beattie and tell him his son or daughter is going to be a bastard unless he does right by my sister immediately. Should I slap a glove in his face?”
“Robert, you know that is not what I meant. Oh!”
“Really? A wedding is a wedding. If it means I can make love to you and leave my seed inside you, I don’t care if the Prince Regent officiates on the Shetland Islands. Would you like that?”
“The Prince Regent?”
He brushed his thumb over her taught nipple and felt his prick jerk. Damn, he needed to calm down. He chuckled.
“No, not the Prince Regent. I see you are in your riding habit. Maxwell should have everything else arranged. Go and get your hat and gloves and we shall be off.”
He pressed a kiss to her nose, adjusted his breeches and strode out of the room to go and fetch his own hat and riding crop. He needed a few minutes to settle his own racing heart and stiff cock.