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I MUST HAVE BEEN IN shock because I slept until dinnertime. Martha sent word that I must stay upstairs and rest. After a short interval to eat the dinner sent up to me on a tray, I slept well that night, despite my worries.
I felt much better in the morning. My gown of yesterday had been ruined by its short visit to the mud, but I didn’t care, because today was my first day out of mourning. I was glad to give my maid the order to throw away the ruined gown, and to lay out my new blue flowered silk.
When I looked over the banister on my way downstairs I saw Richard, waiting for me. Lizzie stood in the doorway of the breakfast parlour. She smiled back at me when I smiled my good morning. She looked lovely in a pale yellow striped gown. Richard took my hand, and openly studied at me, and I lowered my gaze, flushing when I saw the warm expression on his face. “So much better,” he said.
I met his eyes. “You like it?” I turned a little to make my skirts move and heard the rustle of the new silk. For once, I felt equal to his magnificence. He was dressed simply today, but a master had fitted his country coat, and the attention to detail in the waistcoat embroidery, the arrangement of the folds of his neckcloth, spoke of the leader of fashion.
“Elegance personified.” He kissed my hand. When his mouth brushed my knuckles a shiver passed through me. “Should you like some fresh air?”
“Yes please.”
There was a shawl on the window seat by the front door, which Richard picked up and arranged over my shoulders. Even this simple gesture made me feel cherished. I glanced at Lizzie who hadn’t spoken and I saw her smile again. She sighed as I turned away and put my hand on his arm. We walked past her to the garden and Richard bowed his head to her as we passed.
“I’m so glad to be out of mourning,” I told him.
“I’m so glad to see you looking better.”
“I needed the sleep.”
“You must have done; I don’t think it’s just the blue gown making you look so much better.”
It was a fine day today; the sky scattered with clouds with no rain in them. The flowers were beginning to come; buds on some early shrubs and the daffodils coming into full bloom. “Does it get better than this?” I said.
“Oh yes.”
What I saw in his eyes, the promise of intimacies to come, made me blush. “I’ll make it better for both of us,” he said, twining his hand with mine.
“I’ll do my best.” Glancing behind to make sure we were unobserved, he drew me to him for a gentle kiss.
* * * * *
WE WENT BACK IN FOR breakfast to the usual cacophony of a family breakfast. Martha liked the children to join us for this less formal meal. Out of politeness Richard and Gervase agreed that this custom must continue while they were guests at the Manor, but I feared it might try their patience. They weren’t used to living so close and having the boisterousness of small children intrude upon their daily lives.
I remembered a promise. “I said I would play the harpsichord for you.”
“So you did.” I had finished my meal, so he stood and pulled back my chair for me when I got to my feet.
Martha stared at Lizzie meaningfully. “Can I come?” Lizzie asked. Gervase asked if he could come too, and so our chaperones accompanied us.
We went upstairs to the music room, and I smiled at Richard. “You’re doing well with the children. They’re still in awe of you, but not as much as when you first arrived.”
He smiled wryly in return. “I hope to keep a little distance between us.” Richard was not yet comfortable with children. I hoped that one day he would be.
The music room was on the first floor, one of Martha’s show rooms. Small sofas were spread about in the new informal style, and a large, decorative harp dominated the room. The harpsichord stood behind it. I walked to the instrument, and on my way drew my hand along the strings of the harp. I watched Gervase and Richard’s faces contort in a reaction to the disharmony produced. “Nobody plays it,” I explained. “Lizzie wanted to try, but she gave up after a while.”
“I thought I would show to advantage, and give Eustacia Terry something to think about,” my sister confessed. “But I couldn’t come to terms with it.”
Gervase grinned. “Several ladies have taken it up in that spirit. But I’ve rarely heard it played well.”
Lizzie assumed her most coquettish expression, chin tilted, gazing up at Gervase through her abundant lashes. “Ah, but do they look elegant when they’re playing it?”
Richard added his mite. “I always thought that the ear and the eye should be pleasured at the same time.”
I sat at the harpsichord and sorted through the sheet music I kept on top. I chose favourites, so no one would be obliged to act as page-turner. Scarlatti and the German composer, Bach. Gervase saw Lizzie seated, and I watched her dispose her skirts elegantly about her and lay her fan by her side. Richard sat, equally elegantly, on a sofa opposite, and Gervase found himself a seat in the space Lizzie had left. In a presage of spring, sunshine streamed though the large window on to the despised harp, right across the room. I began to play.
Richard said little, but closed his eyes from time to time. Gervase and Lizzie were equally silent, but it was the harmony of tranquillity. I enjoyed playing, forgot myself in the music, a blessed time.
Unfortunately we weren’t left alone for long.
A knock fell on the door and the butler brought in a salver with some ominous pieces of pasteboard resting on it. Visitors, marking the end of our peaceful morning.
Lizzie took up the cards and I brought the piece I was playing to rest.
“There’s two groups of guests waiting to see us,” Lizzie told us with a sigh. “Lady Skerrit and Georgiana, and Mrs. and Miss Terry.” She looked up at the butler. “Show them up here, please.”
“The beauteous Miss Eustacia Terry.” Richard’s voice was suspiciously cool. I gave him a suspicious look.
“We’re out of mourning now,” Lizzie observed wryly. “Fair game for visitors.”
Gervase gave a short laugh. “And it looks as though we’re being hunted. Richard, could you possibly behave yourself this time?”
“I? Whatever can you mean?” Not a trace of guile lurked in Richard’s eyes.
Gervase threw up his hands in a gesture of submission. “I hear Frederick Brean is coming next week. I can only hope he succeeds in distracting local society. Rose, can’t you prevail on Richard to stop his campaign?”
I shook my head. “No, but I have made him promise not to take it too far.”
“That will have to do then.” The door opened and the redoubtable Marsh announced Mrs. Terry and her daughter, with a ceremonious flourish. Mrs. Terry paused on the threshold. I noticed, not for the first time, her sheer size. She was often described by the kinder element as a “comfortable” woman, but the tight lacing she customarily used made her bulge at top and bottom like a generous hour glass. She loaded her person with fashionable ornament, throwing the more simple attire the rest of us affected into the shade. Her daughter was dressed to impress in crimson striped satin and garnets. Perhaps not the best choice of colour for a pale blonde, but expensive items.
We stood and greeted them. Richard led Miss Terry to a window seat where he sat next to her. They all listened to me play another piece, but I kept this one simple and short.
I stopped when the servants brought refreshments. I closed the lid of the instrument, and went to sit next to Lizzie. Gervase had moved to occupy the place Richard vacated when he took Miss Terry to the window seat. “You play charmingly, Miss Golightly,” Mrs. Terry said indulgently. She must have known some response was expected, but I suspected the lady of having cloth ears.
Richard corrected her. “She plays superbly.”
Mrs. Terry stared at him in exaggerated surprise, her finely plucked brows nearly up in her hairline. She wasn’t used to people correcting her opinions. Mrs. Terry considered herself one of the leaders of fashion in the county, and her opinions were usually accepted without demur. Discussions were not part of her nature. However, this time she evidently decided to let it pass, and smiled kindly at Richard. “I have an excellent ear for music. Miss Golightly’s playing has always been welcome in my house. Do you know Devonshire at all, sir?”
I noticed the “sir”, and winced a little bit. It was usual to use such forms of address when one knew the recipient for a time, not immediately after first acquaintance. They were planning to move in. We might see them in London before too long if we spent any time there. I saw myself becoming, “My dearest friend, Lady Strang,” if I wasn’t too careful.
“I can’t say I do,” Richard replied.
“No.” Her voice held a pitying tone. “Then perhaps you have heard of my house, Penfold Hall?”
“Sadly not, ma’am.” He didn’t sound sorry.
“You really must come and see it.” She addressed Gervase then. “I hear you are interested in old houses, sir.”
“Only in antiquities. Many people think my interest amounts to an obsession.” Gervase glanced meaningfully at this brother. “But everybody has an interest.”
“Indeed so, sir,” Mrs. Terry agreed. “My daughter has a great interest in painting, don’t you, my dear?”
Eustacia started, her mind obviously on other things, but rose to the occasion with aplomb. “I paint in watercolours.” She stole a glance from under her lashes at Richard, who smiled at her. Her mother watched with approval. Martha would have discouraged such flirting from us, especially with a nearly married man.
The door opened and Martha came in with Lady Skerrit. Remembering my last encounter with the lady, I hoped Lady Skerrit had taken my advice and asked Martha how it was between Richard and me. Lady Skerrit favoured us all with a pleasant smile until she saw Richard sitting next to Miss Terry on the window seat.
Martha busied herself pouring tea and passing round the various plates of this and that. When we were all hampered with tea dishes and little cakes, she took a seat.
Mrs. Terry had heard of the previous day’s happenings in the village. “You were involved in an unseemly episode yesterday, my lord.”
“Sadly, yes,” Richard favoured them with a brief explanation. “Two bullies attacked another man. I made the odds a little more even, that’s all.”
“Did you know the men were Cawntons?” Lady Skerrit demanded.
“Not until afterwards,” Richard admitted. “But it wouldn’t have made any difference. I dislike injustice in any form, and I couldn’t have stood by and watched.”
“They could have killed you.” Miss Terry was nearly breathless, apparently thrilled by the idea of such danger.
He smiled at her, a particularly warm smile for his society manner. “But they didn’t. I sent them off, and they went quite willingly in the end.”
“They may take it amiss, my lord,” Lady Skerrit warned him.
Richard lifted his hands in the air in a gesture of despair, reminiscent of his brother’s gesture earlier. “The whole county seems to be in thrall to these villains.”
Gervase put his hand to his eyes and groaned. “Not another cause, Richard, please.”
Richard looked across at him. “Not yet. I have other business first, but the matter should certainly be looked into.” Another cause? What on earth did Gervase mean?
Lady Skerrit shook the heavy lace ruffles lying on her arms, drawing attention to their lavish splendour. “The gangs are large and well organised.”
“And what is a little free trading?” Mrs. Terry queried. “I believe they run goods across our land, because we have found a barrel or two outside our door sometimes.”
Richard frowned. “Apart from the fact that it’s a violation of the law, these people create terror in the countryside. I cannot approve.”
Miss Terry glowed, looking up at him, through her lashes. “You are a hero, my lord.”
“You think I should take them on single-handed?” Amusement crept into his voice. “It might have been acceptable to knights of old, but then, they had armour to protect them. There’s little I can do on my own, but I might ask some people I know to help me. But not yet.” He glanced at me and smiled. I smiled back, an easy social smile, but I wasn’t entirely at my ease. I glanced at Gervase. I smelled a secret, perhaps the same secret Richard had promised to enlighten me about the day before.
“We have nothing to do with them,” Lady Skerrit said. “I love this county, but the smugglers are a slur on our good name. They don’t pass over our land, to my knowledge.”
Martha agreed. “Nor ours.”
“You may find you have a little more influence with your change of fortune,” Richard pointed out. “If Lord Hareton takes his seat in the Lords, he’ll most likely find friends there.”
Martha regarded him with interest. “I hadn’t thought of that. I shall certainly speak to him about it.”
Mrs. Terry pursed her mouth. “Do you really think that’s necessary? They do no harm, you know, and they do bring some prosperity to the county.”
Richard leaned back in the window seat, every inch the man of leisure, not at all the sort of person who might run another through with his sword without hesitation. “Men can die on the beach as easily as they can die in the fields.”
Martha’s head turned sharply, but the Terrys didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. Mrs. Terry never noticed anyone she chose not to, and that included everyone from servants down. Her perception was selective.
“I’m only glad Derbyshire has no such prosperity,” Richard commented, apparently bored with the subject in hand. Mrs. Terry took his opening. “Derbyshire? Is your house near Chatsworth at all?”
“Quite near,” he admitted.
“Do you see much of the dear duke?”
“You know him, then?” Gervase took the conversational baton, which gave Richard a chance to sit back and observe. The Kerres and the Cavendishes socialised, but were not close.
“We met him a little while ago.” Mrs. Terry’s tone turned to honey. “Such gracious manners.” I couldn’t think where they could have met. I’d certainly never met a duke in Exeter Assembly Rooms.
Gervase agreed without a tremor. “They spend most of their time in London. My father prefers the country, on the whole, so we see little of each other.”
“I’ll wager you prefer the excitement of the city, my lord. Mama says that we will pay Bath a visit this year. Shall we see you there?” Eustacia looked from one to the other of the twins eagerly. Either she had forgotten Richard’s reason for being here, or she chose to ignore it.
Richard shook his head. “Probably not this year. Gervase, do you plan to go?”
“I hadn’t planned it, but I might take a look. You’ll have to tell me when you’re to visit,” Gervase added to Eustacia. They were playing the girl, passing her from one to another. The sport was mild, otherwise I would have stopped it, but in all honesty I had to admit she provided a tempting target.
“Oh yes,” breathed Eustacia.
Richard stretched an arm along the back of the sofa, behind Eustacia’s carefully curled hair. “Meantime, we may go a fair way towards making Exeter fashionable. You’ll find Exeter Assembly rooms more populated than usual, at least for the next month or two.” If I didn’t know what he was doing, his arrogance would have appalled me. He was drawing Eustacia further into his trap, tempting her with the availability of fresh meat in the marriage mart.
Georgiana turned shining eyes to her mother. “May we go, Mama? Would that be possible?”
“We thought we might attend this Friday,” Lady Skerrit admitted.
“Then we shall go too.” Mrs. Terry beamed. “We have to uphold the county, don’t we?” by “the county” she meant her sort, the few families that made up her social circle. I knew she would muster her friends. The whole of the Assembly Rooms would be packed and agog. Last year in the wilds of Yorkshire I had dreamed of showing off my betrothed at the Assembly Rooms, the scene of so many frustrations and humiliations for me in the past. Now I wasn’t so sure, especially with the mischief I knew Richard was planning. I was suspicious of his motives, but also afraid I could do little to divert him from his purpose.
Morning visits were supposed to take half an hour. After that time Lady Skerrit stood, thus forcing the others to stand. “So good to see you out of mourning.” She embraced Martha warmly. If the Terrys hadn’t been there, she would have stayed longer, and been welcome. Martha left with them, to see the guests to the door.
Left alone with Gervase and Lizzie, I pleaded with Richard. “You won’t drop Miss Terry in the middle of Friday’s Assembly Rooms, will you?”
“He’s planning some game with that harpy?” Lizzie clapped her hands together in delight. “Famous!”
Richard smiled at her. “A woman with my own sense of justice.” He gave her a bow. “I shall first see how far she is prepared to take matters. If she retreats, then so will I. On the other hand, if she chooses to flirt—”
“Richard!” from Gervase.
“Oh, my dear brother, not that. Granted, I have amused myself in the past, but not with a young innocent. In any case, anything more than flirting would hurt Rose. No, I’ll not go that far. In fact, I’m not sure what I will do, exactly.” He smiled at me. “I promise I won’t let her down too badly, if she needs a set-down. And, in any case, if you hadn’t noticed, I didn’t make most of the running.” I had to admit that was true.
“She has all the tricks of the coquette,” said Lizzie. “She doesn’t need encouragement. It will do her good to receive a set-down.”
“Offer her a carte blanche,” suggested Gervase. The idea that Richard should offer her his protection without his name made Lizzie gasp in appreciative delight.
Richard laughed. “Good God, I thought I had the reputation. If I did that, her father might well call me out.”
Gervase agreed. “Once upon a time you would have done it.”
Richard frowned. “Perhaps. But she’s only silly, not malicious, and she doesn’t deserve it. My natural inclination is to ruin her, at least in the eyes of society, but I will be magnanimous and merely set her down a trifle.”
“Can it be Rose has taught you some humanity?”
“A little,” he admitted. “But I shall strive to overcome it.”