Fenella J Miller Read online

  “You say that Lady Eleanor is nowhere to be found?” The footman nodded and Edward dismissed him with a curt gesture. He turned to his wife, as ever, hovering in the background. “Madam, go at once to the nursery and question the children and the nursemaids as to Eleanor’s whereabouts.”

  The twenty minutes he was obliged to kick his heels did nothing to improve his temper. When, eventually, his wife reappeared, he schooled his features to appear ignorant of the news she was about to give him.

  “My lord, Eleanor has left with Lord Bentley. He offered her the position of governess to his children and she accepted with alacrity.”

  Jane did not appear cowed or agitated by this news. Indeed, she seemed almost pleased.

  “Governess? My sister to work as a servant? This will not do. I will not have it.”

  “You’re too late. They left this morning. I shall have to appoint a governess myself to replace her. The boys leave for school in September so there will be no need to appoint a tutor for them.”

  This defiance was too much for his fragile control. He raised his fist but she was too quick for him. In a swirl of skirts, she spun and vanished into her own boudoir and the sound of the bolt being shot echoed around the room. For the first time in the eleven years they had been married, his wife had defied him.

  Lady Haverstock, who was strolling on the terrace below with another guest, looked up in shock as he hurled the ornaments from the tables through the open window. He did not care. He would not be gainsaid. His wife and sister would pay for their disobedience.

  Eleanor smiled at the three children. “I had meant to tell you: your papa did, of course, return with me. Unfortunately he’s feeling a trifle under the weather. The doctor is with him now, and I must go and see what can be done to make him more comfortable.”

  Lucy nodded sagely. “He is often unwell when he visits us. He is obliged to stay in his rooms most of the time.”

  “Things shall be different now I am here, my love. Even when your papa is indisposed, or in Town, I shall be here to take care of you.”

  This was enough to reassure them. Unbothered by the absence of their father they led her back to the great hall and up the imposing stairs. They continued to the nursery floor and left the footman to guide her to the master suite.

  She hesitated; should she knock? The matter was decided for her as the footman thought she was waiting for him to open the door. He did this with a flourish; announcing her to Foster and the doctor as if she was appearing at a ball.

  “I apologize for not arriving sooner, but I have only just received your message.”

  The young man bowed. “The news is far better than you might have anticipated, my lady. Lord Bentley has a concussion, but he has regained consciousness and is perfectly lucid. I’m certain there is no permanent damage and a week or so resting in bed will fully restore him.”

  Her legs suddenly refused to hold her upright and she swayed. Instantly Dr Stansted moved forward to guide her to the nearest seat. “Lady Bentley, this news has been a shock to you. Remain still for a few moments until the faintness passes.”

  “I am feeling better, thank you. I had come here prepared for the worst. Relief quite overwhelmed me.” She glanced at Foster. “Do you require my services in the sickroom? I have experience, I have nursed my niece and nephews on many occasions these past few years.”

  “No, thank you, my lady. I can manage myself. His lordship would be most displeased if I allowed you to do such menial work.”

  “In which case, I shall leave him in your capable hands. If he should enquire as to my whereabouts, I am taking the children down to the lake for a picnic this afternoon.”

  “Very well, my lady. Have you met Nanny Brooks?” The warning twinkle told her what to expect when she braved this lady’s territory.

  “I met Nanny Brooks when she delivered the children to me earlier.” She smiled at the physician. “I must thank you for your assistance, sir. Shall you be returning again today?”

  “No, not unless his condition deteriorates. Foster has instructions to send for me should that be the case. However, my lady, I don’t anticipate this happening. You mustn’t worry unduly. Lord Bentley has a strong constitution; he will be up and about again in no time.”

  “In which case I must bid you good day. Foster, I shall call in when I return.”

  She almost skipped from the room. All that remained was for her to vanquish the woman who had controlled the lives of the children these past few years. The fact that Brooks had half-starved them gave her the courage to march into the nursery. Her steps were light. She was not to be named a murderer after all.

  Faced with a row of identical doors along a narrow, uncarpeted passageway on the top floor of the house, she had no idea into which one she should make her entrance. She could manage to remain obdurate in the face of whatever opposition she encountered from Nanny Brooks. However, if it took her several attempts to locate the children she rather thought her courage would evaporate.

  The only way to be sure was to listen outside. What if someone emerged from one of the other doors and caught her eavesdropping? Her credibility as the children’s mother would be destroyed in an instant. Strange, when the children had left her, they were full of vitality and noise—so why could she not hear them?

  She walked briskly across to the door in the centre and pushed it open. Three heads turned, but none of the children got up from their chairs or said a word in greeting.

  This would not do. They were petrified. What else could be keeping them so still and quiet?

  “Brooks, I wish to speak to you. Now.” Her anger added authority to her voice. She remained where she was; what she intended to say to the woman must be spoken in front of the children. Lucy’s eyes widened and Eleanor braced herself.

  The woman was behind her; forewarned, she did not stumble forward in shock. “Lady Bentley, it’s customary for the children to be brought to you. I didn’t expect to see you in my nursery.”

  Slowly she turned to face the nanny who had been mistreating her husband’s dear children for the past few years. “I am most displeased by the way the nursery has been run. You have overstepped your authority. You are a servant here. These rooms do not belong to you, but to my husband.”

  The woman looked less confident. “Lord Bentley gave the children into my care on the sad demise of their sainted mother. He has never had cause to criticise in any way.”

  “That’s as may be. Things are different now. I am the children’s mama and their upbringing is entirely under my control.” She raked the nanny from head to toe and found her wanting. “You are dismissed from my employ. I wish you to leave immediately. I shall not be writing a reference.”

  “You can’t do that. Lord Bentley appointed me. Only he has the right to send me away.”

  Eleanor could feel the malevolence pouring over her and for a moment her determination wavered. Then three small bodies pressed against her. She could not falter.

  “How dare you speak to me like that? If you’re not gone from here by the time I return, I shall have you removed. Do I make myself clear?”

  Forcing herself to remain rigid, she stared icily until Nanny Brooks capitulated. Without a further word, the woman ran from the room and could be heard slamming about next door.

  “Well, that’s one task completed. The second is to find more suitable garments for you all.”

  “Our bedroom is next door, my lady. We can show you what we have and you must choose for us.”

  “I shall do no such thing, Lucy. You and Elizabeth are quite old enough to dress yourselves; I shall concern myself with finding something for your brother.”

  She was rummaging around in his closet when she became aware she was no longer alone. She turned expecting to face another antagonistic nursemaid. Instead two girls stood beaming at her. The taller, a buxom, blonde-haired young woman, of about seventeen or eighteen summers, curtsied.

  “My lady, we heard everything. Is tha
t witch really leaving here?”

  “Indeed, Brooks will be gone before the day is out. Tell me your names and duties here.”

  “I’m Daisy, my lady, and I’m under nursemaid. This here’s Rose, she’s none too strong in the attic, if you get my meaning. But she’s willing and loves the children as much as I do. It’s a crying shame what’s been happening up here these past four years.”

  “That will be enough on that subject, Daisy. Can you manage to run the nursery for the moment? The children will spend the greater part of the day with me. I intend to be their teacher.”

  Lucy appeared in a plain green dress, her smock more or less on, her face alight with happiness. “Elizabeth has nothing to wear. Shall I give her something of mine?”

  “Yes, my love, do that.” The girl disappeared and Eleanor turned to Daisy once more. “Go through and undo Miss Lucy’s and Miss Elizabeth’s plaits. Leave their hair loose; a ribbon will be sufficient to keep it out of their eyes.”

  Alexander danced in, waving a garment over his head. “Mama, look, knickeebocks. And a shirt and things. I found them myself. Can I put them on please?”

  “Well done, young man. Quickly, let us dispose of these silly, frilly items and dress you as Alexander. Tomorrow I shall cut off those ridiculous curls.”

  The afternoon was a resounding success. Eleanor returned with the children far later than she intended. Alexander was so fatigued she had to carry him, but was wilting under her burden. She couldn’t stagger up three flights of stairs to the nursery without dropping him. He was remarkably light for a child of five years, but she was not herself having had no sleep for two nights.

  “Allow me, my lady. I can carry Master Alexander up to the nursery for you.”

  “Daisy, wherever did you spring from? Yes, please take him.”

  Rose had taken charge of the girls. They were holding her hands and eagerly telling her all about their afternoon.

  “I shall leave you to put them to bed. They must have a bath tomorrow; it is too late to worry about a little grime tonight.”

  “Yes, my lady. What time do you wish them to be up tomorrow?”

  “Good heavens! Let them sleep as long as they want. When they have breakfasted and bathed, bring them down to me. I expect I shall be downstairs with the housekeeper.”

  As promised, Eleanor went straight to her husband’s apartment to enquire how he did. Foster was waiting to speak to her. His serious expression made her stomach lurch.

  “Tell me, he is not worse?”

  “No, my lady, Lord Bentley is sleeping comfortably. There is something I feel you ought to know. That appalling Brooks woman left, but took the housekeeper with her. They have long been cronies and feathering their own nests and no one was strong enough to stop it.”

  “No doubt we shall manage until I can appoint new staff. Unemployment is rife in the countryside, and with the price of corn so high people are starving. I will have no difficulty replacing those that have left or in appointing the extra servants a house of this size so desperately needs.”

  Too much had happened in these past twenty four hours. She supposed it was her duty to go down and arrange for someone to take over the housekeeper’s duties but her feet refused to obey her command.

  “If you will allow me, my lady, I should be happy to arrange things downstairs.”

  “Would you? Foster, I’m in your debt. But you must not leave Lord Bentley unattended.”

  “No fear of that, madam. Sam’s there now; he seems to enjoy being an inside man instead of a groom.”

  “In which case, I shall retire to my apartment. Today has been tiring. I shall see you in the morning. Remember, if Lord Bentley takes a turn for the worse you must rouse me immediately.”

  Her apartment was adjacent to her husband’s. The rooms were on the south of the house looking down the drive. Her delightful sitting-room was in the turret and one tall mullioned window faced south, the other west. Sally was waiting for her.

  “My lady, I have your clothes all sponged and pressed and there’s a bath drawn for you in the dressing room.”

  “Has it been there long?”

  “No, one of the maids came up to tell me you were on your way back. The water’s lovely and hot.”

  Eleanor could barely keep our eyes open but the thought of luxuriating in a hot bath appealed to her. She followed her abigail into her bedchamber, barely noticing the furniture or decorations in her hurry to reach her dressing room.

  “What a lovely room. Sally, make sure the communicating door is locked.”

  “I heard Mr Foster turning the key soon after his lordship was there.”

  Sinking into the rose-scented water Eleanor began to relax. She closed her eyes, barely listening to Sally’s chatter until the girl mentioned the departure of the housekeeper and the nanny. “What was that you said, Sally?”

  “Mrs Jones and Nanny Brooks were that angry. They were saying all sorts of dreadful things. I reckon it was all nonsense, my lady. How could those two cause you any harm?”

  “They couldn’t, of course. Lord Bentley will be back on his feet by the end of the week and I’m sure will deal with the matter himself.”

  At Bridgeton Abbey, Edward had regained control and ceased hurling missiles through the window. Lady Haverstock and her friend had long since vanished, no doubt to complain about his loss of temper. To have been defied by first a sister and then a wife was almost too much for a man to bear.

  How did the information that Eleanor had not run away with Bentley but was in his employ change things?

  His shoulders began to unknot. In the eyes of Society, it would make no difference why she had gone. She had left unchaperoned. He would help the rumours on their way, and within the week she would be received nowhere.

  He scowled. Not having Eleanor in his household to take care of the children was a damn nuisance but at least the spectre of her marrying and her husband demanding her inheritance had gone forever. He needed a drink. His silver hip flask was empty and the decanter on the sideboard was no longer filled each morning.

  He supposed he must apologize for scaring his hostess. He would find her and smooth matters over and then seek masculine company in the billiard room. Where would the ladies be at this time? He glanced at the mantel clock. They would be taking tea somewhere; whilst the weather was so clement they had been gathering under an oak tree on the far side of the abbey. He would try there first. As he was descending the stairs female voices drifted up to him from the hall below.

  “It is so romantic! Lady Eleanor’s run away to be governess for a handsome lord. She was always such a pretty girl in her youth. Away from her brother’s household, she will blossom once again.”

  He waited to hear what the response would be.

  “I am sure she will, my dear, and then that poor man will fall in love with her and there will be a happy ending for them both. She will become the second wife of Lord Bentley.”

  Marry him? Surely not? The man had attempted to despoil her, so why…

  His head began to pound. Bentley was an honourable man; he would wish to put matters right. What better than to have Eleanor under his roof where he could charm her into agreeing to become his wife?

  Never! He would not let this happen. He would kill his sister before he let anyone get their hands on her trust fund.

  Chapter Nine

  Eleanor was unable to see her husband. Twice a day she visited his apartment and spoke to his manservant, each time to be reassured that he was recovering well. Doctor Stansted made a point of seeking her out on one occasion to say Bentley would be allowed to rise from his bed the following day.

  She had been alone for four days. The time had been spent exploring the house and grounds; the more she got to know Blakely Hall, the better she liked it. All three children were adorable and she loved them already. However, her happiness was tainted by the fact that the welfare of Bentley’s children had been at the expense of her niece and nephews.

&n
bsp; Despite the loss of the housekeeper everything was running smoothly although most of the house remained under holland covers. The nursery floor and the two apartments occupied by herself and her husband were in use upstairs, and the drawing-room and small dining room downstairs. Until they had more staff, it would be impossible to bring the other rooms into use.

  Foster had this matter in hand. Sydney, the butler, had a niece ideally suited for the housekeeper’s position. The woman, a Mrs. Nayland, was due to arrive later that day.

  Although Bentley had told her she was to have free rein in the house, she was reluctant to change things whilst he was indisposed. Sydney had temporarily taken over the duties of the housekeeper; thankfully the remaining members of staff were happy the two pernicious women had left.

  Her priority was to replenish the children’s wardrobe. Most of the clothes they had were either unsuitable or too small. Apparently, Brooks had been pocketing the money allocated for this purpose. The village seamstress was busy making their new clothes. When these were finished, she would commission a selection of gowns for herself. Her pink silk was the only garment suitable for somewhere as grand as her new home. Sally discovered several trunks of clothes hidden away at the back of the enormous closet in the dressing room.

  “Look, my lady, I’m sure between us we could alter these to fit. They aren’t the latest fashion, but it would be possible to bring them up to date.”

  “I don’t know, Sally. These garments must have belonged to Lord Bentley’s first wife. I don’t think I should use them without his permission.”

  Sally was about to close the trunk when Eleanor reconsidered. “However, in my experience, to gentlemen one outfit is very much like another. If we raise the waist line, and widen the skirt, add a few frills and furbelows, I doubt these would be recognizable to anyone.”

  The two trunks were dragged out and the contents spilled in a kaleidoscope of colour across the chaise-longue and carpet. There were silks, muslins and Indian cottons in every shade imaginable. Lady Bentley must have been a free spirit to wear such flamboyant colours. Gossip from below stairs told Eleanor that the first Lady Bentley had been the love of his life. She found it difficult to imagine Bentley in love.