Anne Barbour (19 page)

Lucas hurried forward as they drove toward the carriage house and assisted in her descent from the gig.

“Thank you, January,” she said clearly. “I am going to retire immediately, but I shall see you early tomorrow morning to discuss the day’s activities.”

Jem bowed and gathered up the parcels containing Claudia’s purchases and followed her into the house at a respectful distance, promising Lucas to return immediately to help settle the horse down for the night

When she reached her room, Claudia sank down on her bed, fully clothed, and lay staring at the ceiling. What in God’s name was the matter with her? Why did she turn into a puddle of molten sensation at that wretched man’s very touch? She was not a smitten schoolgirl, for Lord’s sake, she was an experienced woman. Well, perhaps not precisely experienced, but she was not an innocent maid, at any rate. She knew very well what it was that men wanted from women, and she had no intention of pandering to my lord’s baser instincts. Or her own, for that matter. If Lord Glenraven thought he had purchased a mistress as well as a stable manager, he was very much mistaken.

She prayed that he was giving some thought to matrimony, for when he brought a bride to Ravencroft, his interests would surely not stray beyond the marriage bed. When he had a wife to cater to his needs and provide him with an heir, he would no longer seek out his stable mistress for stolen kisses. This thought did not provide her with nearly the satisfaction she had expected, and in some irritation, she rose from the bed to disrobe. Donning her night rail, she prepared to settle beneath her covers, but was stayed by an odd sound from across the room. The next moment, her door opened, and, raising her candle, she was astonished to observe Fletcher Botsford enter the room.

“Mr. Botsford!” she gasped. “What on earth ...” She set the candle down with a thump.

“Oh!” said Fletcher, obviously startled. “I thought you would be asleep. That is, I mean...” He started toward her, and Claudia grabbed the first thing that came to her hand, a hairbrush. Brandishing it threateningly, she thrust her covers aside, sprang from her bed and advanced on her unwelcome visitor.

“Fletcher Botsford,” she growled. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing here, but the next sound I hear had better be the door closing on your back.”

Fletcher swallowed convulsively, but he continued moving into the room.

“Now, now, my dear, I only want to talk to you. You do not know how hard it is to get you alone, after all.”

“Yes, I do know, Fletcher, because I have done everything in my power to keep from being in your presence at all, never mind being alone with you.” Claudia was by now so angry that it seemed to the hapless Botsford that her eyes were taking on the quality of molten metal. As she raised the hairbrush again, he quailed, but pressed on regardless.

He stood before her, and at that point seemed uncertain as to how to proceed. He laid a tentative hand on her shoulder.

“Ow!” he squeaked as Claudia rapped his knuckles sharply with the hairbrush. “My dear...”

“I am not your dear, Mr. Botsford, and if you do not turn around this instant, I...”

A knock sounded at the door. Fletcher turned around slowly, an expression of sly anticipation on his face that died suddenly as he beheld the angular form of Miss Augusta Melksham standing in the doorway. Claudia sagged in relief.

“Aunt Gussie! I’m so glad you’re here. Will you please assist me in removing Mr. Botsford from my room?”

“Indeed, my child,” said the old lady austerely. “I heard someone creeping past my door and rose to investigate. Just what were you up to, Mr. Botsford?”

“Up to?” Fletcher goggled. “Why-why nothing at all. I merely—that is—”

“My God!” exclaimed a rumbling voice, and Claudia whirled to find Thomas, resplendent in a Turkish silk dressing gown, looming in the doorway. “What’s going on here?” Thomas spoke in a tone of appalled astonishment, and Claudia realized at once that his appearance on the scene was not at all by happenstance. Her suspicions were confirmed when Rose tottered into the room a few seconds later.

“I was awakened by all the commotion, and—oh, my gracious!” Her eyes widened in an assumption of incredulity. “Mr. Botsford! Whatever are you doing here?”

At this moment. Aunt Augusta, who had been half hidden behind Claudia’s bed hangings moved into full view, and Claudia nearly laughed aloud at the ludicrous expressions of chagrin that appeared on the faces of Thomas and his wife.

“Mr. Botsford seems to have stumbled into the wrong room,” she said calmly. “Fortunately, Aunt Augusta heard him pass her chambers and came to investigate. She entered almost on Mr. Botsworth’s heels.”

“Oh,” said Thomas and Rose, almost in unison. “However,” continued Thomas, shouldering his way into the room, “Botsford’s being in your room in the middle of the night is, nonetheless, highly compromising. I believe you had better rethink your earlier refusal of his suit, young lady.”

“Nonsense,” snapped Claudia. “I just told you that Aunt—”

“But not,” he interrupted in a significant tone, “before Botsford had been here for—for an undetermined length of time.”

“Good heavens, Thomas.” Claudia experienced a rising exasperation. “No one besides you and Rose and Aunt Gussie are aware of Fletcher’s faux pas.”

Thomas smiled knowingly. “You may be assured, my dear, that the news will be all over the servants’ quarters by morning. The lower orders, you know, have a way of sniffing out the slightest hint of scandal. Speaking of which, what time did you come home tonight? I understand you traveled all the way to Gloucester today—with only your butler for company. I am shocked, Claudia, at your lack of discretion. More food for scandal.”

“Scandal! My lack of...
Oh, Thomas,
really—”

“In fact,” continued her brother-in-law as though she had not spoken, “I think it would be advisable for you to arrange tomorrow for the posting of banns.”

Rose had maintained a steady twittering throughout this exchange, but at Thomas’s words, she uttered an incredulous gasp, and once again Claudia caught a flash of indignation before it was quickly shuttered. Miss Melksham snorted and opened her mouth as though she would have remonstrated, but Claudia was ahead of her. With narrowed eyes, she stepped to within a foot of Thomas. Her eyes glittered with anger, and her voice, when she spoke, rang with the clash of sabers.

“Thomas, if you and every servant in the house—as well as the vicar himself—had walked in here and found Fletcher Botsford and me stark naked between the sheets, I still would not consider marrying him. Do I make myself very clear on that point? Now, let me discuss another. I believe you and Rose and your ill-disciplined children and Mr. Botsford have overstayed your welcome. I shall instruct the servants that you will be making your departure in the morning.”

Her statement was greeted with a gusty chuckle from Aunt Augusta and a squeak from Rose. Fletcher Botsford, who had heretofore said nothing, uttered a weak, “Now see here ...”  But from Thomas, there was silence. When he spoke at last, his voice was soft and silky.

“You are distraught, my dear sister. We will leave you now and discuss this tomorrow, when you are more yourself. As for your nonsensical talk of our leaving, I know it is merely the result of your overstrained sensibilities. I could, of course, not consider abandoning you in your present state of emotional turmoil. You are my wife’s nearest relative, and as such I have a responsibility to see to your well-being.”

Claudia gaped at him in consternation and a growing rage.

“How
dare
you—” she began, but was caught up short by Miss Melksham, who strode to her and put a hand on her arm.

“Never mind, Claudia,” she said, giving her niece a meaningful glance. “We can straighten all this out in the morning. In the meantime, perhaps you’d better get some rest. We have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow.”

Such was Claudia’s state of mind that it took a full minute for the significance of her aunt’s words to sink in. Of course! Tomorrow, Jem would announce his identity, and she would be willing to wager Thomas would be out on his ear inside of an hour. She swallowed hard and relaxed the fists she had clenched when Thomas entered the room. She forced her breathing to slow, and turning to her brother-in-law she said in a steely voice, “Yes, we will straighten this all out tomorrow, but for now, you will leave my room—both of you.” She shot a glance at Rose, who cast her eyes to the floor. “And,” she continued, transferring her gaze to Fletcher Botsford, “take your puppet with you!”

Thomas opened his mouth as though he would say more, but, apparently feeling he had come out of the encounter the victor, contented himself with a smug smile. He propelled Rose and Botsford from the room and closed the door behind him with a satisfied click.

Claudia sank down upon her bed, and Miss Melksham sat down beside her. She placed her hand over that of the young woman.

“Oh, my dear. I never thought I would be grateful for the fact that Lord Glenraven has returned to take up residence here, but I must confess that I look forward to his confrontation with Thomas on the morrow.”

Claudia allowed a small smile to curve her lips. “So do I, Aunt. So do I.”

“I shall see to the master suite first thing. I am sure his lordship will wish to waste no time in moving out of the butler’s quarters. Oh dear,” she added as an afterthought. “What a shame—January was such an exemplary butler. Now we shall have to hire a new one.”

Claudia uttered a little gasp and then began to chuckle. After a moment, Miss Melksham joined her, and soon the two were clutching each other as laughter erupted from them in bursts of release. Some time later, when they had regained their composure. Aunt Augusta bade her niece a staid good night and left the room, her skirts sighing a soft amen.

Later, Claudia lay in her blessedly silent bedchamber, staring once more at the ceiling. Yes, tomorrow would be a momentous day in all their lives. Was Lord Glenraven still awake, she wondered, in his humble quarters? Was he, too, considering the changes that were about to inundate him?

Three floors below, Jem lay staring into the darkness. This would probably be his last night in Morgan’s old chambers, for tomorrow his new life would begin. The erstwhile street urchin known as Jem January would die an unmourned death, and Jeremy Standish, Lord Glenraven would begin anew as master of Ravencroft.

What place in his new life would Claudia hold, he wondered for what seemed like the hundredth time since that timeless, magical kiss this afternoon. He permitted himself a small, sour chuckle. He already knew the answer to that, and he might as well stiffen his resolve right now. He must not let a like occurrence ever happen again. Make up your mind to it, Jemmie, me lad, in the future she must be nothing more than a valued employee. He wished now that he had not offered her the run of the house. He hoped to God she hadn’t been led to believe that he’d had more than a moment’s dalliance in mind back there in the gig. He had no desire to further the relationship, after all. A woman would only complicate his life—which was already about as complicated as it could hold right now, and it could only end in one or both of them getting hurt. He would take pains from now on to remain on friendly but distant terms with Claudia Carstairs.

He slept at last, a slumber disturbed by dreams of butterscotch eyes laughing into his and of golden hair, silky as thistledown beneath his fingers. He sighed in his sleep at the memory of a soft mouth pressed against his with a warmth and sweetness he had never known.

*   *   *   *

“Ye’re never sayin’ so, lad—my lord!”

Jonah gaped at Jem, grooming brush in hand. He had been brushing Trusty, but at the young man’s startling words, he had emerged from the gelding’s stall. “She gave Ravencroft over to ye? Without a struggle?”

At Jem’s confirming nod, he rubbed the back of the brush against his bristly chin. “That don’t sound like ‘er.”

“I told you she would not have the stomach for a fight in court. Not that she didn’t take her pound of flesh. You will still be taking orders from Mrs. Carstairs, Jonah, for I have hired her to manage my stables.”

The brush dropped from Jonah’s nerveless fingers. “Ye never! A female t’ run an operation like we has here?”

“She’s been doing it for two years now,” replied Jem patiently.

“Yes, but, they was ‘er own, then. It’ll be different now.”

“Yes, it will be different She will need your help more than ever, Jonah, for she feels her loss deeply. I want her to know she still belongs, and that I have entrusted her with complete authority over the stables.”

“Have ye now?” Jonah’s voice rasped in astonishment.

“The only change I will suggest is that she hire more hands. In fact, you might draw up a list of young men to be found locally who might be acceptable. For,” said Jem with a grin, “I am turning in my papers. It wouldn’t look at all the thing, after all, for callers to be directed to the stables to find the lord of the manor mucking out the stalls.”

Jonah’s laughter emerged soundlessly from behind his wrinkles, and Jem left, with a jaunty wave of his hand.

Back in the house, he was greeted by a flustered housemaid who informed him breathlessly that he was wanted upstairs, “imeedgit and to onc’t.” Surmising what was afoot, he hastened up the wide main staircase, following his ears to where a loud altercation ensued in the direction of the master’s chambers.

Rounding a corner, he strode toward the group gathered in the corridor. At its center stood Claudia, her hair catching the light of a single candle still flickering in a wall sconce. Near her, like a bony bulwark stood Miss Melksham. and ranged about them were Thomas, Rose, and a dismayed Fletcher Botsford.

“All I want,” Thomas was intoning belligerently, “is a simple explanation. I awoke this morning and rang for tea, and no one responded. I had Crumshaw ring for hot water, and no one was about to bring it up. Now I find you and the greater part of the household staff bustling about a set of rooms that has been unused for donkey’s years, and I want to know what is the meaning of it?” Thomas was fairly stamping his foot in irritation, exacerbated perhaps by the fact that Claudia did not quail before his wrath, but smiled calmly up at him.