28 December 1822
Loughton Manor, Leicestershire
The door latch turned, setting Mel’s nerves on edge, but it was only Hermione.
“You’re awake.” Hermione opened the door wider for the sturdy young maid behind her who carried a pitcher and towels. “This is Maggie, come to dress you and do your hair, and then you and I will go down to breakfast.”
“Breakfast? I slept the afternoon and night through?”
“You did. And Lord Loughton by your side well into the evening. It took Lady Neda herself to pull him away to join the children at dinner, and then later, to send him off to his own bed. He was so worried about you he would have sent for the midwife—”
“The midwife?”
Hermione waved a hand. “She being the only medical practitioner available. Their surgeon has gone off to visit his family for the Yuletide, and the apothecary has come down with a lung fever. Isn’t that right, Maggie?”
“Yes, madam. Mrs. Astrop’s been ever so busy. Run ragged, she says, what with babies picking their arrivals in the worst weather and folks needing medicine for the lung fever.”
The maid had just returned through a side door with a fresh chemise, stockings, and her stays.
“I’ll go and pick out a dress.” Hermione swished over to the same side door. “Your best gown, I think.”
“My carriage gown will do.”
“No, it will not. You’re not running off anywhere today. Not as ill as you were yesterday.”
We’ll see about that. Mel stood and submitted to being dressed. “Who is here? Surely all of the Lovelace family are not present.” Dear God, she hoped not.
“No, not at all, miss,” Maggie said. “Mr. George left yesterday with Lady Glanford, and Mr. Selwyn and Mr. Rupert stayed in London for the Yuletide. Mr. Fitz’s married sisters are away also, spending the season with their families. And his sister, Miss Cassandra has gone off for a week with her friend, Miss Cartwright.”
In September, Fitz had provided a list of his family members, but trying to remember all of them made her dizzy. “So who is left?”
“Well, there’s her ladyship, his mother, and himself, of course, and his sister Miss Nancy, and the boys, Master James and Master Edward, and Lady Glanford’s little Lord Glanford and Master Ben, and his lordship’s Miss Mary.”
“Mostly children.” How astonishing.
“You like children.” Hermione had returned carrying the one good day dress Mel donned for village social events. “It will be very jolly.”
“It’s a wonder Lord Loughton didn’t stay at that hunting party.”
“He planned to,” Maggie said, “and right riled up he was when her ladyship sent Mr. George to fetch him back.”
Mel shared a long look with Hermione. In a great house like this, there was no better source of information than a gossipy servant. Hermione, she knew, would not mind her probing. How else was one to learn anything?
“I suppose Lady Loughton wanted him here when I arrived,” Mel said.
“Oh, that wasn’t why. It had to do with young Lord Glanford and little Master Ben.” Maggie cheerfully cinched and tied the stays then reached for the gown. “Why, this blue will set off the shine in your hair, if I do say so myself.”
“I recall that Lord Glanford was a particular friend of Lord Loughton,” Hermione mused. “No doubt Lady Neda wanted him to spend time with the boys.”
“’Tweren’t that, not entirely. He’s the boys’ guardian and hadn’t been tending to them.”
Mel glanced back at the girl who was fastening her gown. “What do you mean?”
Maggie’s hands paused and her cheeks colored. “Beg pardon, miss. I’ve spoken out of turn. His lordship is ever such a good man, but with all that happened, his wife and the babe dying and the old lord’s sudden passing… sure and he didn’t mean to neglect his wards for so long, and he must be ever so sorry… and with Mr. George taking him to task and then taking Lady Glanford to wife, all will be well.” She took in a breath, her color still high. “If you’ll sit now, I’ll do up your hair, which, if I do say so, is ever so shiny and lovely. And if you’ve time I can tease a few curls—”
“No, do not bother with curls. A simple twist and a tuck will do.”
While Maggie bit her tongue and worked, Mel fumed and counted her blessings.
On the evidence of several days and two eventful nights, she’d pledged herself to an honorable man. Or so she’d thought.
Oh, Hades, she’d been dazzled by his handsome face, and his kisses, and the way he’d made her feel. The way he still made her feel. And Grandfather had given his blessings to their betrothal.
And then—out of sight, out of mind—his letters had tapered off and stopped. He’d swiftly fallen out of the love he’d declared. Having lived among soldiers and seen the male species at close view, she shouldn’t be surprised.
But neglecting those boys…
Maggie tucked in the last pin and stood back.
“Well done,” Hermione said.
Mel studied her reflection. A few curls tickled her cheeks and altogether softened her appearance. “How did you manage it? It usually takes me half the day to produce a curl. Thank you.”
Pleased, Maggie smiled and began tidying the room, but Mel sent her away and turned on her cousin. “Did you know of this business about Fitz and Glanford’s boys?’
Hermione chewed on her lip and sighed. “Neda hinted at trouble.”
“He neglected them.”
“There is always another side to every story.”
“Two innocent boys in his charge? What other side could there be that would be honorable?” Mel scrubbed her knuckles over her cheeks. “I just want to leave. What if Mother has arrived in Hampshire and decided to find us? What if she appears here at Loughton Manor?”
“She won’t trouble herself to make that long of a journey.”
“She might, if as you say, she’s taken a notion that Grandfather will leave me money. She might learn that he’s been ill. She always had ways of finding things out. She might know of the cottage in Durham after all.” Heaven help her if Mother appeared there. Where could she go then?
Father’s old batman lived near the cottage. Perhaps he would take pity on her and offer sanctuary. “No, you go down and I’ll go out through the kitchen and take a gig to the inn and proceed on. I’ll leave half my purse—”
“Mary Elizabeth. Running is not the answer. And it’s not like you to be a coward.”
“I’m not…” She took in a deep breath. She’d been cowardly aplenty lately, and running away was in her blood, from the womb, one might say. Mother had run off more than once, always with a lover. Papa had run from time to time, as well, though he’d passed it off as answering the call of duty, leaving Mel to cope with Mother, or to take refuge with Hermione.
She must be stronger than them. She was stronger, drat it. She’d made one mistake, she who’d deflected bounders and rascals all her life. “You’re right. I must settle this once and for all. I shall be brave. I shall go down to breakfast.”
“And be cordial with the family.”
She thought of Mary’s soft kiss on her cheek. But surely, Mary would breakfast in the nursery, and it would only be Fitz and his mother to be dealt with. “Of course.”
“And you must give him a chance to explain.”
Explain turning his back on his wards? His friends’ two minor sons?
He might try to explain the unconscionable. After breakfast, if he wished to do so, she would listen, and then she would leave.
Good cheer warmed the breakfast room, as brightly as the morning sun streaming in the windows. Pine boughs and ribbons draped the mantel, and sprigs of holly with bright red berries filled a bowl on the table. Curious faces beamed at her as she entered, a smiling Mary getting up on her knees in the chair next to the pixie, who called out a greeting to both her and her cousin.
“Mel.” Fitz rose from his seat at the head of the table, a look of relief blooming into a welcoming smile that heated her down to her toes.
The gray-eyed boy she’d met yesterday sat at his left, an older version of the boy at Fitz’s right. The rest of the group, two older school-age boys and a girl probably old enough for her come-out, all blond-haired like Fitz, examined her closely, their blue eyes curious but not unfriendly.
Fitz hurried around the table to her, taking her hands and gazing down at her. “Are you feeling better?” His neckcloth was perfectly tied, his coat brushed, his collar starched to sharp points, but his hair was deliciously tousled, and the warmth in his eyes…
A lump lodged in her throat. She swallowed it down, nodding, and reminded herself to resist his charms.
Introductions were made, and he seated her at the foot of the table and fetched her a plate. The aroma of egg and bacon sent her stomach into a flutter, and she reached for the corner of toast.
Returning to his seat, Fitz gave the older gray-eyed boy, Lord Glanford, a fond tap on the head, and the boy glowed up at him.
What had Maggie said? He must be ever so sorry. Perhaps, where the boys were concerned, Fitz had patched things up. But it had taken his own mother’s strong will and his brother’s strong arm to do so. What honorable man required such intervention to do what was right?
“Are you coming with us today, Miss Parker?” Fitz’s sister, Nancy, asked. “We’re attending a party—a children’s party. I would very much like to not be the only young lady there, alone with all these nodcocks.”
“Oh. I…” A party? No wonder Mary’s red frock was trimmed in green, and more festive green and red ribbons adorned the bodice of Nancy’s white gown.
Nancy smiled, and she couldn’t help think that the frank, jolly girl might have the makings of a friend, if she were to stay. Which she wouldn’t.
Nancy’s brother, James, smirked, and the younger of the two Lovelace boys, Edward laughed.
Lady Loughton set her teacup aside. “You won’t be the only young lady, Nancy. Your friends will be there. Though if you are well enough, Miss Parker, we would love to have you come and meet all our neighbors. You as well, Lady Hermione.”
“I believe I will go,” Hermione said with an overbright smile that meant she was angling to leave Fitz and Mel alone. “Nothing better than a Yuletide fête, especially one for children. So much vitality there.”
“And tonight, Grandmama has promised a scavenger hunt.” Mary was still on her knees, and no one in this lively group had corrected her. “But will you come with us this morning, Miss Parker? There will be games, and cakes, and even a puppet show.”
A smile tugged at Mel’s lips, and she gave into it. “I fear I’d best not, sweet one. Though it does sound very jolly.”
“But what will you do here, all by yourself?” That had come from Edward.
“She’ll spend the day with me,” Fitz said.
“You’re not going, Fitz?”
James’s exclamation opened a flurry of loud conversation among the siblings, even some yelling. Good heavens, they were not just lively—they were wild.
No wonder Fitz wanted to stay home. He was avoiding a raucous children’s party—look how he’d treated his wards.
She swallowed again, fighting her mouthful of egg to stay down. “I should like to speak with you, Lord Loughton, but I won’t take up much of your time. You would still be able to go.”
His gaze fixed on her, melting her resolve.
“With last night’s snowfall, we’ll need to leave immediately to allow for the roads.” Fitz’s mother stood, and all the boys jumped up, including her eldest. “Come along then, children. Lady Hermione, join us in the hall after you have finished your breakfast.”
Mary clambered off the chair and threw herself into Fitz’s arms for a farewell hug.
Hermione’s cup clanged against the saucer. “I’m quite ready now.” While the children hurried out, Hermione paused by Mel’s chair and whispered, “You two lovebirds use this time wisely.”
“We are not…” Oh never mind. Skirts rustled as her cousin and Lady Loughton departed.
Fitz appeared next to her, his subtle cologne filling her senses. She fidgeted with her napkin.
“You’ve not eaten much of your eggs. Are you still feeling ill?”
“I’m fine.”
His thumb swept her cheek. His other fingers eased her chin his way and the sight of him sent her heart into a desperate pounding. Strong nose and jaw and oh so kissable lips, and the tiniest of clefts in his chin. His deep-set blue eyes were filled with a sadness that resonated within her.
She inwardly shook herself. That was merely her being fanciful, as fanciful as her histrionic mother.