Chapter 39
It had been fifteen years since Gordon had traveled this road, but he remembered it well. When they approached the top of the hill that overlooked the valley containing Long Lake and Kingston Court, he signaled the postilion to stop the chaise. As he opened the door, he said to Callie, “Time for a brief survey of our future.”
She stretched, then climbed out after him. “I’ll join you. After three days of rattling around in a coach, I welcome all opportunities to stretch my legs.”
Knowing they’d reach Kingston Court today, they’d both taken pains with their clothing. If there was one thing Gordon had learned in his checkered career, it was that dressing for the part was halfway to convincing people that he belonged in the role. If he was to be a marquess, he’d damn well look the part, and he did.
But he paled next to Callie, whose expert remodeling of a forest green gown with gold embroidered trim made her look like a queen. A glorious one, like Elizabeth, who had also had red in her hair. “One of these days there will be time enough for you to visit a modiste for a new wardrobe,” he said wryly.
She laughed, tightening her Kashmiri shawl around her shoulders against the autumn wind. “I hope so, but in the meantime, think how much money I’m saving you!”
“Since we don’t need to be frugal, I’ll have to spend any wardrobe savings on jewels to adorn you, not that you need jewels to look beautiful.”
“I’d rather have a really good riding horse.”
“That’s my girl,” he said fondly. “You can have both.”
He draped an arm around Callie’s shoulders and they strolled to the crest of the hill. The day had been overcast, but in late afternoon the sun had come out and the lake below gleamed like a mirror.
Callie said, “Rush Hall is just over that hill. Maybe tomorrow we can ride over and see if some members of my family are in residence. I left Elinor so quickly that I didn’t ask about anyone else.”
“We’ll do that. I wonder if the path we followed between our houses is still well worn, or if it’s grown over.” He fell silent, thinking of the easy joy of their friendship, and the difficulties of every other part of his childhood.
“We Brookes always took a different road into our valley, so I don’t think I’ve ever seen this view of your house before,” Callie said. “It looks really Gothic! Will there be bats and rattling chains?”
He smiled at the way she countered his tension. The rambling family seat did look rather Gothic, particularly the oldest section, which was a tower left over from a medieval castle. The stubby but suitably threatening tower stood on a steep hill overlooking the unimaginatively named Long Lake. The master’s quarters were in the tower, with a view of the water.
Later additions to the structure rambled down from the tower. That side of the hill was less steep, but it lacked the dramatic views of the lake. “I’m glad my room was in the newer section of the Court,” he said. “It was still damp and musty, but at least there were no bats, and any rattling chains were probably the sounds I made when I slipped out illegally at night.”
She said warningly, “Having a strong sense of the order of things, the servants will make us sleep in the master’s rooms in the old tower. Grand furniture and smoking fireplaces, I suspect. I never visited the tower.”
“I never saw much of the master’s rooms, but I did explore the lower tower. The stone walls are so thick that there’s a secret staircase hidden inside.”
“Really? I wish I’d known!” she exclaimed.
“You wouldn’t like it. The passage is very small, built for our shorter ancestors. The staircase runs all the way down to the cellar level. It was either an escape route in the event of siege, or a way for lecherous Audleys to descend and seduce the housemaids.”
“Would there be spiders?” she asked with mock anxiety.
“Almost certainly. Along with other small creatures that rustle around in the darkness.” His hand tightened on hers. “But we won’t stay in the tower long. You can look for a location for our new house while I visit the tenant farms and mines and have meetings with the managers of the family businesses.”
“I already know where we should build. Remember that protected dell between our family estates? It’s on Kingston land, it’s lovely, and it doesn’t get hit by the worst of the winds from the Irish Sea.” She looked thoughtful. “Building will take time, so I’ll look for a property we can live in until the new house is finished.”
“A cottage will do as long as it’s away from the Court.” It was time to return to the coach, but Gordon hesitated, his gaze moving over the valley. “It’s strange. I don’t want to live in Kingston Court—I have far too many difficult memories of my childhood here. And yet, this valley feels like home as nowhere else does.”
Callie bit her lower lip. “I know what you mean. The light, the hills, everything about Lancashire shaped our growing years. I’m happy to be back in England, delighted to have a home in London, and I’m oddly pleased that we’ll have a home here as well.”
“It will be a beautiful, modern, comfortable home,” he promised. “A good use for some of the Kingston wealth.”
“Bathing chambers with hot water and deep tubs?” she asked hopefully.
“Absolutely.” He grinned at her. “Tubs big enough for two. If there is one thing I remember from my childhood, it’s that managing an extravagant fortune is a lot of work. But since there’s no help for it, we might as well at least have decadent bathtubs.”
Laughing, she took his arm and they returned to the chaise. As they drove down into the valley and toward the Court, Gordon observed, “The coal seam fire has spread.”
He gestured to where a thin plume of white smoke trickled from the ground. “There are several places smoking now. That one ahead is quite close to the house.”
“How long has the fire been burning?” Callie asked. “It’s been smoldering for as long as I can remember.”
“Almost forty years, I think.” He thought back to his childhood again. “Mining can be ugly, but I loved going down into the coal tunnels and learning about the steam engines that pumped the water out. Didn’t I take you down a time or two?”
“Once. I did not share your enjoyment of filthy, suffocating spaces.”
“That’s right. You couldn’t wait to get out, so I never invited you to come with me again. I was the mine engineer’s pet because I was so interested in his equipment, and it served me well later.” He smiled, reminiscing. “My experience in the mines got me the job as captain of the Duke of Ashton’s experimental steam packet. By that time, I’d done quite a bit of sailing, and I knew steam engines, so I was well qualified.”
“So that’s how you ended up driving the ship that rescued Lady Kirkland,” Callie said with interest. “How did Ashton come to hire you?”
“That’s a long story for another day since we’ve reached our destination.” He gazed out the window as their chaise drove under the ancient stone arch into the central courtyard. The tower loomed over one side while the newer sections and outbuildings ran down the hill to the left.
The carriage rattled to a stop and they descended to the cobblestones. With Callie on his arm, Gordon walked to the door of his ancestral home and rang the great bell. The deep gong echoed like the voice of doom. Though he didn’t like the house any better than he ever had, entering with Callie beside him was an improvement on the past.
The footman who admitted them was young and dressed very traditionally in knee breeches and powdered wig. Gordon hadn’t had time to have cards printed, so before the footman could ask who he was, he said, “I am the new Lord Kingston. In the past I’ve been known as Lord George Audley. Are my younger brothers in residence?”
The footman was young and he’d never met Gordon, but he wasn’t stupid. He probably knew there was a long absent middle brother who would be the heir if he was alive. Eyes widening, the footman bowed deeply. “They are taking predinner sherry, my lord. I shall escort you to them.”
Ugly house, ugly furnishings, drafty passageways. It was as bad as Gordon remembered, but at least he didn’t have to worry about running into his father. “Feel free to kill him. I have better sons.”
Callie must be remembering those words, too, because her hand was locked tight on his arm. She looked very beautiful and every inch an aristocrat. But even if she’d been wearing flour sacks, she would look like a marchioness. He didn’t think he could have tolerated being here without her beside him.
The small salon where family and guests gathered for predinner drinks was at least warmed by a fire, albeit a smoky one. He’d not been old enough for the drinks ritual when he was last in this house.
But if he’d been the most worthless of the old lord’s sons then, he made up for it now. The footman ushered them in, saying, “The Marquess of Kingston.”
The words paralyzed the two young men chatting in the salon. That would be Eldon with the brown hair and the air of ironic detachment. He looked very much like an Audley. Francis, the youngest of the five sons, strongly resembled his mother, with fair hair, freckles, and a cheerful face. Neither of them looked at all like Gordon. As always, he was the odd man out.
Francis spoke first. “George, is that really you?” he asked, incredulous. “You’ve been presumed dead for almost fifteen years! But I remember that blond hair.” He came forward and offered his hand, looking genuinely pleased.
“I’ve been going by my middle name, Gordon, for years now.” Gordon shook his brother’s hand, glad someone seemed happy to see him. “I didn’t die as reported and I sent occasional notes to the family lawyers to rub in the fact that I was still alive. I imagine our father kept the information to himself in the hope that eventually I would remedy my failure to die while being transported to Botany Bay.”
Eldon rallied and also offered his hand. “You should have warned us, George! Or rather, Gordon. We could have killed the fatted calf for you. Instead, you’ll have to settle for lamb collops tonight.”
“The fatted calf can continue to graze in peace,” Gordon said as he drew Callie forward. “Let me introduce you to my wife.”
Before he could say Callie’s name, Eldon exclaimed, “Catherine Brooke! Surely that’s you all grown up. I’ve never known anyone else with that shade of red-gold hair.”
“Indeed it is I, Eldon.” She offered a smile and her hand. “I go by my middle name, Callista, these days, but you can call me Catherine if you prefer.”
Eldon took her hand, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. “Maybe now we can learn what happened to you two! Gordon, you just vanished while Francis and I were away at school, and we learned later that Catherine was married off in a suspiciously swift way. Speculation was rampant.”
Thinking his brothers deserved to know, Gordon said, “If you’re asking whether I seduced Callie and got her with child, the answer is no.”
“My father wanted me to marry a much older Jamaican planter and I hated the idea.” Callie took up the story. “Since your brother and I were friends, he gallantly offered to marry me in Gretna Green to protect me from an unwanted husband. But our fathers found out almost immediately and caught up with us. So I married the planter and Gordon was convicted of various crimes and transported, which was horridly unfair.”
“So that’s the story, much less scandalous than it might have been,” Gordon finished. He accepted a glass of sherry from Francis, who’d poured for the two newcomers. “What have you two been up to?”
“Let’s discuss the last fifteen years of history over dinner,” Eldon suggested. “The servants have had time to add two more place settings by now, and I’m sure our discussion will be a long one, so we might as well eat!”
They moved into the adjoining family dining room, which gave Gordon the chance to abandon his sherry, of which he was not overly fond, though he’d appreciated Francis’s courtesy. He’d been a nice little boy, and now he seemed a nice young man.
Gordon was briefly disconcerted when he was automatically seated at the head of the table. How could he be head of a family when he’d never felt he was part of it in the first place? But that might be changing, which was a warming thought.
After the four of them took seats around one end of the long table, Gordon said bluntly, “Eldon, for the last fortnight or so, you’ve been thinking you’re likely the next marquess. How do you feel about my unexpected reappearance?”
“The younger Mr. Roberts explained that there was reason to believe you were alive, so I wasn’t totally surprised at your return.” Eldon looked thoughtful. “I had mixed feelings about inheriting. As a fourth son, I never expected it, but yes, I was becoming accustomed to the idea of the title and wealth. Yet here you are.” He smiled mischievously. “To make up for my blasted hopes, you can increase my allowance!”
They all laughed. Gordon was glad that his brother didn’t seem resentful. “I will review the allowances,” he promised. “Do you have any goals in mind? Have you busied yourself with any particular pursuits over the years?”
“I’ve mostly lived in London enjoying the life of a young English gentleman, but lately I’ve been thinking it’s time for a change,” Eldon said seriously. “I’m considering politics. The Kingston estate controls several parliamentary seats, and I’d like the next one that becomes available. It’s time to establish myself as a man of substance.”
Gordon was glad to hear that Eldon had goals beyond frivolity. “You’ve always had a quick mind and a quick tongue. I think you’d make a good MP.”
Eldon nodded, looking pleased. Gordon turned his attention to his youngest brother, bemused to find himself acting so much like the head of the family. “Francis, how do you spend your time? Have you also been enjoying the life of a gentleman of leisure in London?”
“Not at all! After attending Cambridge, I’ve become the assistant estate manager,” Francis said. “The current manager, Martin—you must remember him—is getting along in years. The plan is for me to replace him when he’s ready to step down.”
“Do you enjoy the work?” Callie asked with interest.
“I do!” Francis said enthusiastically. “There are so many new developments in both agriculture and mining. For example . . .”
Eldon cut his brother off with a drawled, “As interesting as breeding programs are, that’s more detail than we need on a night when we’re catching up with each other’s news.”
Francis smiled apologetically. “Sorry, I tend to be more of a farmer than the son of a marquess should be! But if you’re interested, I’ll be happy to talk your ears off later.” His expression turned wary. “I have an understanding with a young lady who lives nearby. I hope you’ll approve of our marriage.”
Gordon’s brows arched. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re the one who will be living with her, so the choice should be yours.”
“Neither Father nor Welham approved.” Francis looked defensive. “Julie’s parents are yeoman farmers, not aristocrats, but they’re generous, hardworking people. I’ve learned a great deal about practical farming from Mr. Frane.”
From the tone of his brother’s voice, Gordon guessed that the Franes had been a warmer and more welcoming family than the Audleys. Perhaps hearing the same thing, Callie said warmly, “I’d love to meet your Julie. We can call on her family, or perhaps she and her mother can join us here for tea soon.”
Francis’s eyes widened. “She . . . we would both like that very much!”
As the first course of the meal was removed and the second course served, Gordon sipped at his wine and commented, “When we drove into the valley, I saw that the coal seam fires have expanded. The smell of them is all through the house.”
“It’s not always this bad,” Francis said apologetically. “Only when the wind is from the west.”
Which it usually was if Gordon remembered correctly. “Are the fires undermining the house? Maybe it’s time to abandon Kingston Court for a healthier site.”
Francis looked appalled. “But the history, Gordon! The oldest section is over six hundred years old!”
“And every day of that is felt in the lack of comforts,” Gordon said dryly. “I’ll let you have the master’s rooms, which I recall as cold and drafty.”
“But very grand.” Eldon chuckled. “I think you’re stuck there since the servants are surely preparing those rooms now for the new lord and lady.”
Callie asked, “Are any reasonable houses on the estate currently vacant? Preferably ones that aren’t six hundred years old.”
Francis thought a moment. “The dower house is empty. It’s basically sound, though it would take a day or two to prepare it for occupancy.”
“As long as badgers haven’t taken up residence in the drawing room, that should do nicely,” Gordon said. “Callie, what do you think?”
“I remember the dower house as a fine, well placed residence. It will be perfect.” She smiled. “We’ll appreciate it all the more if we must spend several nights in the Gothic tower.”
That occasioned more laughter. The meal turned out to be surprisingly enjoyable. Maybe being Lord Kingston wouldn’t be so bad.
Gordon’s opinion changed when he and Callie bade his brothers good night and they retired to the tower. Callie studied the vast bedchamber with dismay. “If Welham lived in here, I don’t blame him if he committed suicide!”
“You don’t like priceless tapestries showing saints dying in various horrible ways and animals being torn to pieces by hounds and huntsman?” Gordon asked dryly.
“No, I do not!” She began pacing around the room, frowning at the tapestries and the heavy carved wardrobe that matched the bed. The massive four-poster was fit for royalty, with carved mahogany pillars at the corners to support the velvet canopy. The brocade coverlet was turned down, revealing fine sheets and extravagant pillows. He thought of his father in that bed, rutting with wives and maids and mistresses and conceiving multiple sons, and his stomach knotted. “I cannot sleep in that bed.”
Callie’s gaze moved swiftly to his face. Understanding, she said lightly, “I’d rather not sleep there, either. Beds are too personal to make good family heirlooms. Let’s find an alternative.”
She opened a door on the left. “This dressing room is much better. We can make up a pallet on the very handsome carpet. I’ll rumple the blankets on the bed so in the morning the servants won’t realize we didn’t appreciate their efforts.”
Gordon joined her and drew her against his side with one arm. “You don’t mind sleeping on the floor in here?”
“It will be more comfortable than a warehouse floor surrounded by tobacco barrels, and we found that quite pleasing.” She leaned into him like a cat. “We can manage here for a couple of nights until we move into the dower house.”
“Thank you for understanding,” he said quietly.
“The fact that your younger brothers are amiable doesn’t take away years of misery,” she said softly. “Now, let’s make up that pallet and get some rest.”
She was right. The pallet was comfortable, and Callie’s sweet welcome made all the dark clouds of Kingston Court melt away.