A Gentleman of Worth, page 13
“That could be why she is standing under a tree near the lake and not promenading.”
“What presumption she has,” said Lady Goderich, as she stepped beside her brother. “Lady Lincoln should have remained in Scotland or whatever situation her husband laid out for her. He made no secret of his disdain for her. I wonder if he finally abandoned her to fend for herself? She should return from whence she came and leave all decent society alone.”
“I could not agree more, Pheebs,” said Anthony.
When Amelia glanced back under the tree, Lady Lincoln had disappeared. Where had she gone?
“What is so interesting?” When she turned, Lizzy stood beside her, looking out towards the Serpentine.
“Nothing of import.” As Amelia responded, Lady Goderich took her arm.
“Are you certain?” asked Lizzy. “A number of couples were staring as were you, Lady Goderich, and Sir Anthony.”
“Yes, quite certain. I have meant to ask if you managed to replace the servants you brought to me.” As long as Lizzy did not insist on continuing the subject, perhaps that would distract her. Since Amelia hardly understood the significance of Lady Lincoln’s presence herself, she had no wish to try to explain it.
Lizzy perked up and clasped her hands. “I did in fact. Mrs. Newnham’s inquiries were all answered within a few days, and we have four new servants who were excited to find employment in our household. Have you situated those who were willing to work at Audley Place?”
“I have, and from what Mrs. Baxter has said, they are in higher positions and have each had a slight increase in pay, so they are content.”
“Then I am pleased. All four had been working in Darcy House for some time, but those above them were happy and with no intention of leaving. Mrs. Newnham chose those who had shown an interest in more responsibility but had no ability to take a higher position. She chose well.”
“Yes, she chose quite well. We still have need of two more footmen and another maid as well as a scullery maid, so if Mrs. Newnham knows of others who may be looking for work, Mrs. Baxter and I would be appreciative of an introduction.”
While Amelia spoke, Lady Goderich furrowed her forehead. “I had not realised Audley Place still operated on the minimum number of servants. Anthony indicated he intended to start hiring before the two of you wed.”
“I suppose with us journeying to Kent and remaining for almost three weeks, he saw no need for Mrs. Chapman to accomplish that task before our return.”
“I must say I was aghast when Anthony told me of Mrs. Chapman. She taught me how to run a house, and I never saw anything amiss in the ledgers she showed me.”
“She was adept at hiding her theft, or maybe the worst was done after you wed,” said Amelia. “I have not traced how long she was stealing.”
Lord Goderich called to his wife, and she excused herself, leaving Amelia with Lizzy.
“Anthony never employed a full household of servants. He saw no need for a bachelor who never entertained.”
“I had not considered it in such a way. His economy makes a great deal of sense. I shall speak to Mrs. Newnham. She may know of someone in search of a good position.”
“Now, tell me,” said Amelia. They had just made to walk back towards Park Lane. “What do you hear of the Hursts?” Mrs. Hurst was the sister of Fitzwilliam’s friend Mr. Bingley, who had died as a result of a duel in late January.
“Oh, Mrs. Hurst and I have become regular correspondents. They are comfortable at the estate in Scotland and will remain until autumn when they plan to start their return. Fitzwilliam has offered for them to break their journey at Pemberley, so they may have a respite. I am certain travelling with such a young babe will not be easy.” Mr. and Mrs. Hurst had been good enough to seclude themselves with the mother of Mr. Bingley’s unborn child and intended to raise the child after his birth.
“No, I do not imagine it will be. The journey will be long as well. It was good of you offer.”
“I hope it will appease some of Fitzwilliam’s guilt.”
“He should not feel guilty. He did his best to help Mr. Bingley.”
Lizzy sighed and looped her arm through Amelia’s. “I know, but he still feels his friend’s loss keenly.”
“Come,” said Anthony, who held out his hand to her. “I have a surprise waiting for us at home.”
Her cousin wore an insufferable grin while she nudged Amelia with an elbow. “Have a lovely time, dearest.”
“Today has been warmer.” Anthony sat on the blanket, leaning upon his hand while he looked up at the sky. “I confess I had not expected such a fine day before summer.”
When he said he had a surprise for her at Audley Place, she had not expected a picnic in the garden. For Mayfair the space was a good size and well-tended. Narcissus had finished blooming a week or so ago and the cherry tree was now full of glorious pink flowers, the petals raining down upon them when the breeze was strong enough. “This was a lovely idea.” Cook had provided a substantial fare for just two people. She had been more content since the changes in the house, and her pleasure showed in her meals, which neither she nor Anthony could bemoan.
After finishing the last bite of his custard tart, her husband dropped back and rested his head upon her lap with a mischievous curve to his lips. “We should do this whenever the weather is fine.”
“Are you comfortable?” she asked.
“Quite, thank you. Your lap makes an admirable pillow.”
With his content countenance, she could not be put out with him, so instead, wound her fingers through his soft hair, combing it back from his forehead. He closed his eyes and sighed. We should sort through the invitations and decide what we are to attend next.”
“My grandmother sent a note with a list of the functions they are accepting. She also mentioned a trip to Vauxhall when it opens.”
“We have three weeks yet, though it would be agreeable. I prefer Vauxhall to a ball.”
“When did you last visit the pleasure gardens?”
“Mayhap two years ago. I did not go often since an evening there is costly.”
She paused toying with his hair. “Will you ever tell me how much your father owed?”
“Not if I can help it.” He sat up from her lap. “I do know we cannot completely avoid speaking of my father and his follies, but can we make an effort to avoid the subject? My life has revolved around correcting his errors and paying the debts he accumulated for too long. Now that those days are past, I would hope to put him behind me. His portraits are in the attics here and will be at Dereham as soon as we take residence. With how busy we have been since our return, I have not given you an opportunity to redecorate as you see fit. I would ask that we not do so all at once, but pray, do as you will, particularly with the public rooms of the house.”
“What of your rooms?” He was so adamant to wipe any trace of his father away. His rooms were overdone compared to the gentleman who lived in them. Anthony was a practical sort, not one to select the ornate fabrics and wall coverings in his bedchamber.
“Those need not be done right away.”
“I disagree,” she said. “You spend most nights in my bedchamber. We have only slept in yours—”
“Do you object to my presence?”
“No! But I had not expected you to prefer my chambers.”
He rested himself back as he had been, gazing up at her from her lap. “Why would I not? I decorated them with your preferences in mind.”
“And you selected the fabrics and patterns admirably.”
“Your bedchamber also smells of your perfume. It is as if I am being surrounded by you when I am in that room.”
She looked down upon him where he lay, and a pang tore through her chest. No reserve showed in his earnest expression. His heart was laid wide open for her to see. Her eyes burned, and she blinked while she looked everywhere but at him.
“Is aught amiss?” he asked sitting up once again.
“No, I am well. I do not know why I am being so silly.”
“Amy, pray, talk to me.” His fingers came up to trail along her cheek. “You have held something back since I declared myself to you. I hoped you would come to tell me with time, but you have yet to confide in me. You can trust me with whatever troubles you.”
A warm tear forged a path down her cheek as she stuttered out a shaky breath. “Forgive me. I am being ridiculous.”
“No, no you are not.” He cupped her cheek in his palm. “You have held on to this secret for long enough, do you not think?”
She scoffed through her tears. “’Tis not much of a secret.”
“I disagree since you so adamantly refuse to tell me. You also let it stand in the way of our happiness.”
Her arms crossed over her chest, and she shifted her face away from his hand. “I have not let anything stand in the way of us. I am content. What good would come of dredging up the past?”
“Perhaps confessing what troubles you would free you to love me.” She flinched and hopped to her feet. Free her to love him? What was that supposed to mean? She took a long look at him and began to pace. He had no idea of her heart—of how she had forced herself to see him as nothing more than a friend. Free her to love him? How dare he assume he had the right of it?
She clenched her hands into fists at her sides. “I did love you, and all I got for it was a broken heart.”
His head hitched back, and his eyebrows drew down a little. “I beg your pardon?” he asked as he climbed to his feet.
She covered her face and groaned. “Just forget I said that.” The sound had surely been muffled, but what difference did it make? She threw her hands down to her sides and started for the door before his arms wrapped around her from behind, halting her progress.
“Pray, do not walk away. I would have you explain what you just said.”
“And I would beg you not to make me.” She was crying more so now. How could she not?
“When did you love me?” He had one arm around her waist, and the other crossed her chest with his hand on her shoulder.
“My first Season.” She groaned and covered her face once again.
“Your first Season? I was so careful not to give you any expectations. I never even called.”
She dropped her hands. “I never said it was rational. I was young and naïve, and you never treated me as less for being a lady. Your company was preferred over any of the gentlemen who requested dances, and when you failed to call, I returned to Yorkshire to lick my wounds.”
He turned her in his arms and cradled her face in his palms. “You must know that I never wanted to injure you in such a way. I never noticed one hint of regard from you, or I would have distanced myself. You have to know I would have done all in my power to prevent your pain.”
“I made an effort to hide my infatuation. Apparently, I was more successful than I had thought.”
His lips trailed gentle kisses from the corner of her mouth, across her cheek, to her temple as he held her in a tight embrace. “We are married, and I am yours as much as you are mine. At the end of the Season, I shall take you with me. We shall not be parted. You can trust me with your heart this time. I shall care for it as assiduously as my own. I promise you.”
She clutched his lapels while she cried into his shoulder. He would have a wet patch upon his topcoat if she continued as she was, but how else was she to respond? What was in her heart was a muddle. She could not make any sense of it. Since they wed, she had tried so often and with such effort, the attempts were enough to make her head throb.
After he drew her face from his shoulder, he removed a handkerchief to wipe her cheeks. “I love you, Amy. When you are ready to acknowledge your feelings for me, I look forward to hearing them. In the meantime, I shall not push for you to say those words in return. One day, I know I shall hear them from your lips, and I do not want them uttered out of any sort of obligation. They should be from your heart.”
She sniffed and wrapped her arms around his waist. Whatever had she done to deserve a man of such patience? He was the best man of her acquaintance…well, more than an acquaintance in Anthony’s case.
Chapter 14
Anthony shook off his preoccupation, wrote a new figure upon the page, and sat back in his chair. He had waited so long for those numbers to reach this point. The years of paying off his father’s debts was satisfying, but to see the investments he had made since profit and add to the Dereham coffers was gratifying. He would have an estate of worth to pass to his first born, and if he invested wisely, portions for his daughters and younger sons as well.
The future he envisioned with Amy was also more promising than when they first wed. Her revelation in the garden was a surprise. One might think she would be reserved, and to an extent, she was. She blushed a little more than was her wont at dinner and fumbled a note when she played the pianoforte for him before they retired. Her newfound shyness was utterly charming. His heart was so full of her!
When he came to her bedchamber to sleep, he had intended no more than to hold her, but it was her who began kissing that sensitive place under his ear and lifting his nightshirt to skim her fingers along his waist.
“Sir,” said Mr. Franks who stood in the door. “A Mr. Williams from the Bow Street Runners is here to see you.”
He shook himself from those thoughts of Amelia for a second time. “Yes, thank you. Pray, send him in.”
When the man entered, he paused and bowed. “Sir Anthony, I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“I appreciate your swift response to my correspondence. Will you not sit?”
Mr. Williams shook his hand, nodded, and sat directly across from him, his tall frame making the chair seem smaller than it was. “I must admit your note did not give much information, but few requests for my services come with much detail. What can you tell me?” He folded his hands in his lap and sat straight while Anthony struggled. Where was he to start, and how much should he divulge?
“For most of my father’s life, he frequented the card rooms and gaming hells of Pall Mall. His father introduced him to the card rooms at Brook’s and over time, my father spent more and more time at the diversion. Unfortunately, by the time of his death, his estate was in dire straits, which I have worked these past years to correct. I likely need not say it took a great deal of economy and patience to reach my current position.”
“I understand, sir.”
Anthony inhaled a deep breath and tapped his finger on the desktop. “During his life, my father possessed a sizeable group of friends and acquaintances who were of similar tastes and enjoyed similar vices. He claimed them to be friends, at least. I am not certain I would say they were such. One of these so-called friends was Lady Cecilia Lacy, Countess of Lincoln. From what I witnessed, she visited this house here and there. I am certain; however, she was here more since my father’s comments implied that their acquaintance dated back to when I was a child. I first made her acquaintance at a ball a year after I returned from Oxford.
“Lady Lincoln played cards and had also amassed a substantial debt, which her husband eventually discovered. He also became aware of her numerous affairs, and in his fury, he removed her from polite society and saw her banished to Scotland.
“I know not how she has returned, but of late, she has approached me and my wife or we have seen her from afar, seemingly watching us: once she spoke to us in front of the home of Lord and Lady Richmond, my wife’s grandparents, she was also outside their home on the night of a ball honouring our marriage, and on Saturday, she watched us promenade in Hyde Park. In all three cases, I cannot know how she knew we would be in that location at that time. I can only imagine a servant in this household must have provided her with the knowledge.”
“A valid assumption, sir, I assure you.”
“During the ball, we saw her from inside, and she never entered or had the ability to speak to us. When we saw her in Hyde Park, she was near a tree by the Serpentine, though she did not approach. When I looked back, she was gone. My wife and I both saw her, so I am certain it was her. I also received a one-line note saying that I have a ‘pretty, little wife.’ In my irritation that she had the audacity to contact me, I am sorry to say I threw the paper in the fire.
“Due to other issues, my wife has recently let go of our housekeeper and two maids who were loyal to her. They have been replaced with servants from households familiar to us, so I am confident the information did not come from them—particularly since they were hired after the first meeting. Seeing Lady Lincoln in the park could have been happenstance, but I cannot be certain. The housekeeper was stealing from the household, so she may have provided the information if offered enough money.”
The man narrowed an eye with a sort of hum. “I doubt that observing Lady Lincoln on any of these occasions was happenstance at all. If she has not paid a servant in your household for information, she could be following you, or having someone do so. Street urchins will do the task for little in return. I assume you took a carriage the day of the first encounter?”
Anthony nodded. “Yes, which is why I suspected she had the information from someone in the house—the housekeeper had yet to be let go at that time. If she has used street urchins to follow us, they have done well to hide themselves. I have not noticed them.” He sighed. “My concern is what she hopes to accomplish by approaching us.”
Mr. Williams leaned against the arm of the chair. “You said she was a friend of your father before his death. May I enquire as to how your father died?”
“He overindulged on spirits and was found the next morning in his bed. But by that time, she had already departed London. As far as I am aware, she had been taken to a remote estate in Scotland, and any correspondence she hoped to send was taken and given to her husband. I think it unlikely they had any contact in that last year before his death.”
“Have you spoken to her husband of late?”
“No. He removed to his estate in Northumberland for some time after he banished her. I am uncertain if he ever returned for Parliament and had not thought to send a note to his London home. Other than what I have told you, I fear I have little information to be of aid.”
