A Lord Rotheby's Holiday Bundle (49 page)

The girl’s blush only deepened.
“Ma’am, do you not wish for me to do this for you?”

Oh, dear. Grace had always done such
tasks on her own. Having a servant assist her would require an
adjustment period for both women, it seemed. “Of course, you may
help me. I have never had a lady’s maid.”

Tess’s eyes widened.

“
We shall learn our new
roles together. Does that sound all right?”

“
Yes ma’am. That sounds
perfect.” Tess visibly relaxed, and the two worked together until
the job was complete. By that time, a few other maids had pulled in
a tub and filled it with steaming water.

Grace sank into it with a sigh. She
allowed the heat to soothe the tension from her body, at least for
the moment. She could always worry later. Nothing, after all, had
changed.

And yet everything had changed,
altogether.

~ * ~

“
Come with me, Alex. I plan
to have a look about the property while it’s still early, and I
desire your company.”

Lord Rotheby looked much better after
a spot of tea and a bit of rest, so Alex was not as worried as he
had been upon first seeing him that afternoon. Likely the older man
had come down with a chill or some other brief illness. He’d be all
right. Alex was certain. Nothing could keep the man down for
long.

The groom prepared a couple of Gil’s
horses for their use. Sampson had earned a rest after the journey
from London to Somerton, so Alex rose one of the earl’s geldings
for the day. They set out at a leisurely pace, taking in the glory
of nature around them.

Alex marveled at the familiar
landscape around the manor house. The Hardwicke family had spent
the majority of their time in their father’s principal seat,
Somerton Court, while Alex and his siblings grew up. But their
parents had moved the entire family to Hardwicke House in London
eight years before so the siblings could participate in the
marriage mart. Even with all the years Alex had spent in Town, he
had always held an affinity for the country. The quiet spoke to
him, soothed him, gave him something to think and dream about other
than cards and balls and women.

Rotheby used to invite the erstwhile
duke and his family to Roundstone Park for regular visits—he had
looked at the late duke as the son he wished his had been—and it
was not uncommon for the Hardwicke brothers to wrestle their way
through the gardens or to leap, fully clothed, into the creek that
wound through the property.

Gil seemed happy to have Alex with him
again, today. His face came alive and his eyes were alert when he
spoke. He took Alex through the entirety of the Roundstone
property. “That oak over there? I seem to recall a day when you
thought yourself man enough to jump from it into the creek just
like Peter and Richard. You were a scrapper. But once you got on
the branch, the height was more than you bargained for.”

“
Ah yes, was that the time
you climbed up after me, to rescue me from the impending and
everlasting shame of not completing the jump?” Alex chuckled at the
memory.

“
The very one. I took you
by the hand and leapt. You fell down with me, but at least your
brothers left you alone after that.”

“
For the day, but no
more.”

“
Ah, well. At least for the
day.” Gil coughed again. “More importantly, you proved to yourself
you could do it.”

A far more important task, in the
grand scheme of life. Jumping from the tree was only one of many
things Alex proved to himself he could do, with the earl’s prodding
and assistance. No wonder their bond continued to this
day.

They rode a little further in silence.
Up ahead, a fence with two mangled posts loomed. “Goodness, why
have you never fixed those, Gil? They were ruined years
ago.”

The older man strained his eyes in the
direction Alex was pointing. “Oh yes. Well. They are still in the
same shape as your mother left them. I haven’t touched them so
she’ll remember every time she sees them.”

Alex choked on his surprise. “My
mother?” How could Mama be involved in something like
that?

“
Don’t forget, you’re the
one who earlier pointed out her scheming. Don’t you recall how
those fence posts were undone? Surely you do.”

He searched his memory, but nothing
came to mind.

“
You and your brothers
wanted to race through the fields, chasing my dogs. Your sister,
Sophia, thought she ought to be included. But she was a
girl
, and you boys felt
she was too young and too female. So you left without
her.”

“
I apologize, but I’m
having difficulty making any connection to Mama with all of
this.”

“
Slow down a minute. I’ll
get there. You are so impatient.” Rotheby huffed out a sigh. “Some
things never change.”

Alex chuckled and bit his lip so he
wouldn’t rush the old man again.

“
So Sophie ran to your
mother and cried that you boys were leaving her out. She wanted to
play with the older children, not be stuck at home with the
baby—yet another boy, of course. Poor Sophie never stood a chance
against you scoundrels-in-training, all cock-sure that girls had no
place playing with boys. But I digress. Your mother thought she was
right, Sophie
should
be allowed to chase after the three of you. The woman found a
spade out in the garden shed—
my
garden shed, and
my
spade—and gave it to Sophia. Your
sister went out and dug under those two posts to loosen them. Once
she had them free, she pulled them to the side so she could climb
through them and chase you.”

“
Mama did not. She would
never encourage any of us to destroy your property.” At least, he
could not imagine it if she had.

“
Is that so?” Gil frowned
over at him. “Sophie ran after you boys, and your mother tried to
fix my fence. All she managed to do was break loose more of the
wood, though. When your father and I came upon her, she had Neil
strapped to her back in some sort of sling she had created, my
spade in her hand, and dirt everywhere—most especially all over her
and that poor infant. I can promise you, it was a sight I shall
never forget.”

Alex laughed. “I doubt I’ll ever
forget it either, now that you have painted it so clearly in my
mind. Mama is trouble, there’s no doubt about that.”

“
No, no doubt at all. She’s
quite the minx, irrespective of her age.”

Gil took time during their ride to
point out various features of the estate and discuss their care. He
told Alex which of his gardeners cared for which aspects of the
park, how often he visited his tenants, the best time of year to
travel into Bath to order supplies, and which merchants were
honorable to deal with and which were just out to rake one over the
coals.

Alex’s suspicions about the earl’s
health were roused again by these details about the running of
Roundstone. Why was he telling Alex? Why hadn’t he summoned
Quinton, his grandson and heir, to inform of such matters? But
perhaps now wasn’t the best time to press his friend on these
matters. For now, he just wanted to enjoy their time
together.

Near the end of their evening ride,
Gil’s eyes were bloodshot and droopy, and he slumped forward in his
saddle instead of riding proud and erect as he had been
previously.

“
Should we head in for the
evening?” Alex asked. “We can resume our jaunt through your grounds
in the morning.” The cold plaguing his friend must be getting the
better of him tonight.

“
What? Are you accusing me
of being
old
?
Rascal. You’ve always been a rascal.” The glint in the earl’s eyes
showed some signs of revival, the weariness still won out. “Yes,
fine. We’ll call it a night.”

Such a concession mustn’t be easy for
Gil. The earl had always been able to keep up with every man in any
situation. He held it as a point of pride. Blast, he might be in
worse condition than Alex had initially feared.

But Alex tried to force the fears
aside. It could solve nothing. Nevertheless, it grasped him like a
spider holding its prey.

They turned toward Roundstone Park
with the last dregs of sunlight warming their backs. “What do you
have planned for the rest of our visit?” Alex asked. “I’ll be here
with you for at least a few weeks. Would you like to go for a
hunt?”

Maybe he could discover a bit more
about the purpose of the Rotheby’s request, even if he had to sort
out the clues himself. The longer he was with Gil, the longer he
was away from Priscilla and Harry—and unable to do anything for
them but hope Derek looked in on them as often as
possible.

“
Oh, just a bit of this and
that. I have some friends who live in Somerton, over at New Hill
Cottage. The Kensingtons. I invited them over for tea tomorrow. I
always enjoy spending time with them, but I don’t want to put you
out. I’m sure spending time with a bunch of older folks will
quickly bore you.”

“
Oh no. I could only be,
er, enlightened by—”

“
Do not lie to me. I know
you.” The earl’s eyes narrowed, as though he could see through
Alex’s head and into his very thoughts, but he chuckled. “I’m
certain there will be some entertainments around town to keep you
busy. We’ll ask the Kensingtons tomorrow. They keep up with those
things better than I do these days.”

Alex wanted to say he would
be better entertained by spending his time with Gil—because
perhaps
he would—but he
heeded Rotheby’s advice and kept quiet. Lying to the man would
serve no purpose, and his friend deserved better. “All right,” he
conceded, “we’ll see what they have to say. I promise to try not to
become too terribly bored while talking with three decrepit
invalids.” He chuckled at Gil’s glare as they dismounted. “I’ll at
least endeavor to hide my boredom, and not snore should I fall
asleep.”

The headed back inside Roundstone
Park, side-by-side. It had been a good day. But the day left the
nagging question of Gil’s health working in his mind.

Chapter Four

Mrs. Finchley led Grace down the
stairwell and turned into a broad hall. Off to the right, a large
doorway opened into a spacious drawing room decorated in soft
primrose with accents of a deep green. The late afternoon sun
poured in through a wall consisting almost entirely of thatched
windows, with the patterns creating a latticework shadow across the
room. Handmade quilts and embroidered pillows draped the
furnishings, the same as in the rest of the house. A fire burned
quietly in the hearth, snaps and pops of sparking wood only
occasionally disrupting the general silence.

“
Sir Laurence and Lady
Kensington, your niece, Lady Grace Abernathy.” Mrs. Finchley
executed a curtsy left the room upon a wave from her
employer.

Grace tried not to let her nerves show
as she perused her relatives—relatives she had not seen since she
was a very young girl, and whom she remembered little, if any.
Relatives who might set her out, should she not come up to scratch.
As if she knew what they would consider up to scratch anyway. This
was all terribly daunting.

Sir Laurence had obviously been quite
handsome in his day and still maintained much of his youthful glow.
He had filled out a touch about the middle, but his face held an
easy smile and warm brown eyes to match the brown hair mixed with
grey.

Lady Kensington could still pass as
one of the most beautiful ladies of the ton. Her fair skin and
black hair matched Grace’s, though hers had begun to turn silver
just at the temples. She stood with an elegance that spoke to her
position, though her attire was certainly more comfortable than
fashionable. Still, there could be no doubt this was a woman born
to privilege.

Grace paused, unsure what she ought to
do next. Her circumstances to this point had proven far from what
she expected. Should she curtsy to her aunt and uncle? Walk across
the room and take their hands? Hug them? Burst forth with her
thanks at their allowing her to stay, even if only for one night?
Her mind raced.

They didn’t even
know
why
she was
there to begin with, so she should likely start with the reason for
her visit. But how? Oh, goodness. She truly ought to have thought
this all through a bit more before she just up and left her
father’s house. But she could
not
have stayed there any longer. Not one more
moment.

She would simply have to become more
decisive. Starting immediately.

All of her planning proved pointless,
however. Grace’s aunt remained seated and silent for several
moments. But then she stood and virtually flew across the room to
pull Grace into a tight embrace, complete with tears and
sniffles.

“
Oh, Gracie! Sweetheart. We
are so, so glad you are here. Your Uncle Laurence and I have missed
you terribly. Oh goodness, you were only a little girl the last
time we saw you.”

Lady Kensington finally released her
and unabashedly wiped away the wetness she left behind on Grace’s
cheeks. The older woman grabbed her by the hand and pulled her
across the room to sit on a sofa. Grace had no choice but to
follow, dignity be damned.