Once Again a Bride

Thirteen



Mrs. Wright walked into Alec’s study without knocking, and wringing her hands—bad signs. Alec had braced himself even before the housekeeper said, “Miss Anne and Miss Lizzy are gone.”

“What? What do you mean, gone?”

“They’re not in the house, and none of the staff know where they are.” Mrs. Wright sounded braced for an explosion.

Alec was already halfway to the door. “Their maid…”

“Susan has not seen them since early morning. Everyone thought they were in the schoolroom together.”

It was nearly eleven. Alec pushed down panic. “Perhaps they’ve gone for a walk in the park or…” But he knew as well as Mrs. Wright that they were forbidden to go out without informing someone, and their maid or a footman went with them.

He should have hired another governess for Lizzy; he knew that. It had just begun to feel futile. “Gather the household.” He would organize a search—of the neighborhood, of the whole of London, if it came to that.

All the servants lined up in the front hall. “Where is Frances?” Alec wondered when everyone had gathered.

“She went out,” Ethan informed him.

“Out where?”

“She didn’t say, sir.”

“Splendid.” Alec started dividing the servants into pairs to be sent into the streets. He had just finished when a key turned in the lock and Anne and Lizzy walked in the front door. Frances was close behind them. They all stopped on the threshold, startled. “Where have you been?” Alec shouted.

Anne blinked; Lizzy’s chin came up in an all-too-familiar way, presaging a storm about to break. Alec struggled with a choking mix of relief and fury. He’d provided enough of a spectacle for one day. Calm, he told himself; control and reason. “Thank you, everyone,” he managed. “Obviously, they are home safe.”

He herded them into the study and shut the door on the sea of eyes. “Would someone care to give me an explanation?”

“I went to find them,” offered Frances unhelpfully.

“Find them. Where were they?” He looked from Anne to Lizzy, resisting the impulse to shout. “And what possible excuse do you have for telling no one that you were going out?”

“We went to see Charlotte,” declared Lizzy. “And we didn’t tell you because you have been so horridly grumpy.”

“We knew you… quarreled about something,” Anne added.

“And we were not going to be stopped,” Lizzy finished.

Frances merely stood there, observing him as if he were an interesting stranger.

Conflicting feelings threatened to derail the conversation. Alec shoved them aside. “Unacceptable. In fact, I cannot imagine an acceptable reason for you to leave this house without informing someone. Since you apparently do not have the judgment to know that, you are forbidden to go out at all.”

“Anne’s dancing class is tomorrow,” objected Lizzy.

“She should have thought of that before…”

“I made her go without telling,” Lizzy interrupted.

“I am older; I should have refused,” said Anne.

It was perfectly true, but Alec was only too aware of Lizzy’s powers of persuasion. “Anne will go to the class with her maid, as before. However, you, Lizzy…”

His younger sister’s chin jutted even further. “I’m going to see Callie. If you try to stop me I will climb out the window and run away!”

“You know you cannot go to the country just…”

“To Charlotte’s. Every day. I promised.”

It took Alec a moment. “You passed that hellish cat off onto…?”

“She was happy to have her. She’s kind!”

He wanted to ask about her. But the very intensity of that desire, the fact that he had been missing her so much even in this short time, made the question impossible. “You are both confined to the schoolroom for the rest of the day.”

“I’m hungry,” Lizzy objected. “Are you going to starve us?”

Alec glared at her. “A tray will be sent up. But be warned! If you do not begin to conduct yourself with more propriety, Elizabeth, I will have to take extreme measures.”

Lizzy started to answer, but Anne tugged at her arm. “Come on, Lizzy.” She pulled her from the room, for which Alec was deeply grateful. He had no notion what he meant by “measures.”

Frances remained, still looking at him in that odd way.

“Something has to be done about Lizzy,” he told her. “She seems to have gone quite wild during Anne’s illness.” Frances nodded; what was wrong with the woman now? “Should it be a governess, imagining we could find one able to manage her? Should we send her off to school?” She so passionately did not wish to go. Everything was a passion play with her lately. She wouldn’t listen to sense; she wouldn’t compromise. He had no doubt that she would disrupt any school he chose with rebellious pranks. “Frances? Are you listening to me?”

“I’m sure you will think of something,” was the calm reply. She smiled and left him there, wondering if his whole household had gone quite mad.

Alec sat at his desk and stared unseeing at the welter of papers. A cold trickle of dread pricked through him; his sister’s stubbornness and wild exaggerations had begun to remind him of his grandmother’s intransigence. Temperaments were inherited; he had seen as much among his own acquaintances. But surely such tendencies could be… diverted, guided into wholesome paths? How? Shouting at Lizzy was useless, yet he kept doing it. He couldn’t seem to help it.

Alec rested his forehead on his hand. Frances was no help these days. The thought of going to his stately, censorious Aunt Earnton for advice made him cringe. He became conscious of a desire to ask Charlotte what to do. She’d been so helpful with both Anne and Lizzy. She would know…

The look on her face as she’d slammed out of his study came back to him, as it had a hundred times since then. He had to go see her on his own account. He’d put it off because the idea roused such regret, doubt, confusion—and because he wanted it so much.

***

Lucy came into the kitchen, dusty from a morning’s cleaning, to find a bright fire and the scent of apples. Tess Hopkins, who had come down a bit earlier, stood beside Mrs. Trask, watching her every move. “You cut the shortening into small bits, and then work it into the flour with this.” Mrs. Trask showed Tess the proper tool and then vigorously demonstrated its use. “See how the dried apples have plumped up after we soaked them,” she added, hands busy.

Tess’s youth and lack of experience made Lucy feel mature and competent. Tess was a good girl, if shy. Unexpected happenings made her jumpy. It was a pure pleasure to see how Mrs. Trask drew her out and taught her.

Lucy got a glass of water and sat at the kitchen table to drink it. Most everything about Mrs. Trask, and her husband too, was a pure pleasure. This kitchen was a different world with them in charge—spanking clean, full of delicious smells, calm and comfortable. It was a marvel how the same room, the same walls and stove and implements, could be so altered. It was like that with the rest of the basement, too. Ethan and James had come over to move furniture down from the spare bedrooms, and Mrs. Trask had created a cozy chamber in back. Lucy wouldn’t have believed you could do that with furniture from this house, but Mrs. Trask just had a gift. She did, and Miss Charlotte, too, who was doing the same upstairs. Lucy suspected she was still arranging and rearranging, even though she’d dismissed them. It was like a curse had been lifted from the place, and the Trasks were the good fairies.

The thought made her smile. Lucy deeply admired and respected the old couple. She couldn’t imagine a practical problem that Mr. Trask couldn’t solve. She hoped they liked her well enough, too, though she sometimes felt they watched her rather close. Strangers getting to know each other, probably.

She hadn’t realized they were Ethan’s grandparents right at first. The name should have told her, but she’d just been too flummoxed to think. When it sank in, she’d been amazed by his kindness in getting them to come here. And seeing him with them since, she’d begun to wonder if she was mistaken about his character. ’Course a fellow might behave one way with his family and quite another with women he fancied. More than likely too; Lucy knew that. Still…

As if summoned by her thought, Ethan came tromping down the basement stair from the back hall. “Grandad just can’t resist a garden, eh?” he said. “What does he think he can do with that patch of hardpan out there?”

“Was he being careful of his back?” asked Mrs. Trask sharply.

Ethan saluted. “Following orders, ma’am; no heavy digging. I believe he’s set the cat to that. She’s started a fine hole by the wall. ’Course maybe that’s an escape tunnel. I wouldn’t put it past her.”

“Scamp.” She went back to crimping the edges of her pie. “And what are you doing here again? Not slacking on your work?”

“No, ma’am. Ladies have gone to my Lord Earnton’s, with James in attendance, except for Miss Lizzy, who’s still confined to quarters. I have a list of errands a yard long. Can’t even stay till that pie’s out of the oven.” He grinned at her.

“This is for dinner, my lad. You keep your greedy hands out of my baking.” But she smiled back.

Ethan dropped into a chair. “Lucy. Tess.”

Nodding back, Lucy noticed yet again how polite Ethan was with Tess. He never flirted with her.

“If you’ve so little to do, you can go out and help your grandad,” said Mrs. Trask. There was an odd little twist in her tone, more, and less, than regular teasing.

“He’s just wandering about dreaming a garden, Gran. He doesn’t want me underfoot.” Ethan turned to Lucy. “Grandad pictures it all in his head beforehand—the garden. You should see the plantings at the Wylde country place. Sir Alexander says they’re like a painting. The gentry come from all over to see Grandad’s gardens and consult him on what they should do with their own, too. He’s like to be famous.”

Mrs. Trask flushed with pleasure.

“It sounds wonderful,” said Lucy. “I hope I can see them one day.” There was a short silence. Lucy felt as if she’d said something awkward, though she hadn’t.

“Susan says hello,” Ethan went on then. “Oh, and Jennings sent word that if you want to come see her on your day out, she’d be happy to continue with the training.”

Lucy’s chest swelled with happiness. Maybe things would come out right, after all. Who would have thought this terrible house could feel like a home, for instance? Yet it was really beginning to.

Ethan and his grandmother chatted about folk from Derbyshire. The scent of apple pie filled the air. After a while Mr. Trask came in, Callie at his heels. Amazingly, the cat curled up on the hearth and went to sleep.

The front doorbell rang. Tess started and dropped the pan she’d been scrubbing. But after a moment she straightened her apron and went to answer it. Lucy couldn’t help a tremor of apprehension herself. Who would visit them here, and what good could come of it?

***

Alec handed his card to a very young housemaid at his uncle’s former residence. She left him standing in the street for several minutes. “Madame is not at home,” she told him shakily when she returned.

A lifetime of good manners sizzled and went up in smoke. “Nonsense.” He pushed past the girl, sending her running as if he were an invading army. After a quick look around the empty first floor, he marched upstairs. In what he remembered as the drawing room, he found a dining table and chairs. In the room opposite, he finally discovered Charlotte. She wore an apron over a shabby gown and held a filthy dust cloth. “Why are you doing the maid’s work?” he asked, then wished he’d held his tongue.

Charlotte threw down the cloth as if it were a dead rat. She clutched the apron, began pulling it off. “How dare you…?”

Heavy footsteps on the stair heralded a white-haired giant. “Everything all right, ma’am?” he said.

Alec was disoriented. He knew this man. Where had he…? “Trask? What are you doing here?”

“The missus and I work here.” He looked at Charlotte. “Ma’am? Is all well?”

Alec’s head spun. It appeared that his former head gardener stood ready to eject him from the house. “I thought you were retired,” was all he found to say.

“It’s fine, Trask, thank you,” said Charlotte. When he’d gone, she added. “What do you want?”

What did he not want, Alec wondered? Seeing her again, lovely even in such a homely setting, had scattered his wits. He found himself transfixed by her coppery eyes, her lips which had met his so fervently… He groped for his set speech. “I came to apologize, of course. I told Hanks that he is insane and dismissed him. He took me unawares with his ridiculous…”

“And what if other people think as he did?”

“No one would…”

“You believed it. For a moment.”

“I did not!”

“I saw it in your eyes.” Her voice wavered, and Alec felt it like a blow to his chest. She swallowed. “Get Hanks back. Let him watch this house, examine my background, follow me through the streets if he likes. He will find nothing wrong!”

“I know that. You have to understand; my first thought is always to protect my sisters…”

“From me?”

“No, no, of course not. I admit my mistake. I am very sorry for it.” Charlotte said nothing. “There are… elements of our family history that make me… overprotective, I suppose.” Charlotte tossed her apron over a chair. She was looking everywhere but at him. Increasingly uncomfortable, Alec continued, “My grandparents’ household, where we lived until I was six years old, was… a place of turmoil and acrimony. My sisters and brother, being younger, were spared much of the experience, and I vowed that their lives would be… peaceful.”

“Peaceful,” Charlotte repeated.

He could not read her tone. But… was she staring at his lips? Nonsense; she couldn’t be. “Of course my father had been even more… disturbed by the disaster of his parents’ ‘love match.’ His whole life was made a misery by them. I learned from his example. He strove always for the reasonable path. He chose a wife for her compatible background and equable disposition; they were quite contented…” He had completely lost the thread of this conversation, Alec thought. He was saying too much, and what had it to do with apologizing?

“So you don’t believe in love?” Charlotte asked. Her eyes were still focused on the floor.

“Of course I do. I love my brother and sisters. Frances. I have a very high regard for my aunt and uncle Earnton.”

“Ah, regard.” She made the word sound crass.

This exchange had gone wildly off track; he had to pull it back. He had come here with a specific purpose. “What you said about Hanks…”

“You may set him to watch me! I told you I don’t care.”

“I have no intention of doing so. But your point… your earlier point is a good one. I hadn’t considered it.”

Charlotte frowned at him.

“Many people are all too ready to believe… the worst. And there is no protection from slander but the truth.”

“Exactly. So you must set Hanks to work again.”

“But if he is not looking in the right direction—which he is not—then how can he find the truth? I think we must take a hand in the investigation.”

“We?”

She’d softened, just a little. Alec was aware of a huge relief. “You must know things about my uncle that outsiders could not…”

“There is only one thing I know about Henry. He cared for nothing but his collection. His life revolved around it—the people he knew, the subjects he thought and spoke of, everything.”

“Very well. This argues that what happened to him in life must be related to it. The attempted robbery points in that direction as well.”

“And so?”

“I think we should…” What, Alec wondered? What should they do? When she gazed at him that way, his brain ground to a halt, and there was only one thing he could think of. “We should… ah… ah… have an expert in to value the collection. We should have done it before this. Yes, that’s it.”

“But what would that tell us about robbery or murder?”

“Who knows?” Alec hurried on before she could argue. “What I mean is, money is a powerful draw for many people. I’ll arrange for the valuation, shall I?”

Charlotte hesitated, then nodded. He wanted to ask if she had forgiven him but didn’t dare. He became aware of the fact that he was creating an excuse to see her again, and again. He should go now—leave the table while he was ahead—but he couldn’t quite make himself walk out the door. “Trask is a good man.” It sounded inane.

“Yes.”

“I’m glad you have him here.”

She nodded, and waited.

“Well, I… Oh! That wretched cat. I’ll take it back, if you wish.” It came out reluctant, because it was.

At last, Charlotte smiled. “Mrs. Trask loves cats. And Callie actually seems to listen to her, mostly. Mr. Trask is going to cut a little door into the back garden. Having a place outside seems to calm Callie.”

“Perhaps she’ll run away,” suggested Alec hopefully.

“Lizzy would never forgive me. I don’t think she will, though. I think she just likes a bit of freedom.” She stood straighter and added, “I hope Lizzy may visit her now and then.”

Alec started to tell her that Lizzy was in disgrace and would not be allowed to visit anyone for a very long time, but something in the way she carefully did not look at him changed his mind. Clearly, Charlotte wished for this, and feared it would be refused. “Of course.” He won another smile with this and at last felt the atmosphere lighten.

He had to be satisfied with that small victory, however. After thanking him, Charlotte mentioned that the whole household was very busy, and he could do nothing but take his leave.