Charlotte Louise Dolan (2 page)

“It is probably only the strawberry preserves. I noticed a spot of mold on them.”

“More than likely. Now where was I?”

“The daughter, Rosabelle.”

“No, no, the daughter has nothing to do with the story. She is only nine or ten or some such age. It is the cousin who is of interest—the Countess of Faussley, widow of the fifth earl, also supposedly from Lincolnshire, although I have never heard of the family.”

“I have.”

“You have? Oh, my dear Letty, let me ring for some fresh tea and then you must tell me all you know. And do start at the beginning. You know how I abhor the custom of coming into the opera in the middle of the first act.”

“Well, the title is not a very old one, less than seventy years, I believe, and already extinct, so it is small wonder you have never heard of it. The first earl was a minor baron who saved the life of the king, or so the entitlement reads.”

“How is it I have never heard of such a deed of daring?”

“It is not the kind of tale that normally appears in the history books, my dear, for whatever the baron may have claimed, the story that circulated quite freely among the servants is that his aid to the king consisted of marrying a certain Anne Newbold, a young woman of good family who aspired to enter the ranks of royalty through the bedroom door. She had, most unfortunately for the king, not only a glorious face and a stunning figure, but also an irate father, several hulking brothers, and numerous uncles who had their fingers in all the political pies of the era.”

“Such a delightful story, it is too bad it is only servant’s gossip.”

“Well, as to that, I have seen a portrait of the second earl, and he bore a striking resemblance to the royal family and none at all to his younger brother and sister, so it is quite possible the first earl did save the king’s life in a manner of speaking.”

“Do you mean to tell me that the earls of Faussley had royal blood in their veins?”

“Only the second earl. He was still a bachelor when he managed to eat his way into an early grave, so the title devolved on his next younger brother, whom I had the misfortune to accompany once to a concert in London. A more boring escort I have never endured—puritanical in his morality, coupled with a most limited understanding. That was before he succeeded to his brother’s honors. After he became the third earl, he quitted London and devoted his life to piously mismanaging his affairs. He married one of Leighton’s daughters, I forget which one. Had two sons, the elder every bit as pious a nonentity as his father.”

“That would be the fourth earl?”

“Yes, he died of the measles about a year after his father’s death. Had no gumption at all.”

“I must say, Letty, that except for the first earl’s wife, you are describing a very boring set of people. I expected a more entertaining story from you.”

“Ah, but we are now come to Reginald, the younger brother of the fourth earl of Faussley. He was the most engaging black sheep you would ever want to meet. A trial to his parents from the day of his birth. I have heard he came backward into the world and continued from that day forth to behave in a way that was invariably the exact opposite of what his parents wished. Ran rampant through the flocks of nubile young maidens in Lincolnshire and was not averse to sampling the attractions of bored young matrons, either. On only one occasion did his parents succeed in bringing him to obey their dictates, and that was in the matter of the spinster daughter of the vicar of Droneyfelds.”

“That would be the countess who came here purporting to be the cousin of Mrs. Pierce-Smythe?”

“The relationship is indeed there—third cousin twice removed or second cousin thrice removed, it matters not. What matters is that Reginald seduced her while promising her marriage, a regrettable habit of his. Unfortunately for him, on this one occasion he made the mistake of setting pen to paper, and the vicar threatened to bring suit. This was while the third earl was still alive, and he sided with the vicar. Even so, I believe it required the assistance of three sturdy plowmen to bring his son to the altar, and I suppose in due course the babe was born.”

“Indeed, she is Lady Gloriana Marybell Dorinda Elizabeth Hemsworth, presently aged fifteen years, and quite the central figure in my farce. I shall tell you all about her as soon as you have finished your part of the story.”

“There is little more to tell. Marriage and fatherhood did not have the hoped-for steadying effect on Reginald, and as soon as he inherited the title, he departed for London. After three years of flitting from bedroom to bedroom, he was finally killed in a duel by a cuckolded husband. Which concludes my knowledge of the family, since until this day, I had no idea what became of the vicar’s daughter and her offspring.”

“Well, according to Mrs. Skinner, who had it from the Pierce-Smythe coachman, the bailiffs were already pounding on the door of Faussley Hall, attempting to evict the countess when Mrs. Pierce-Smythe arrived and invited her cousin for a visit.”

“Aaah, and the welcome was extended for as long as the countess was willing to acknowledge the relationship?”

“Oh, Letty, you are always so cynical. But in this case you are correct. I will not say the countess ever fawned over them, but she did refer to them more frequently than necessary as Dear Cousin Willard and Dear Cousin Rosemary.”

“And such is the way of the world, that doors hitherto closed to the higgler’s grandson were now magically opened.”

“Of course. Can you doubt it? Unfortunately, the countess had a deplorable habit of quacking herself. I believe it was ‘Dr. Blackwell’s Golden Elixir,’ guaranteed to restore the youthful bloom to her cheeks, which finally secured her a permanent spot in the churchyard,”

“Rather a setback for the Pierce-Smythes, it would seem.”

“Oh, they made a beautiful recovery. Simply substituted the daughter for the mother, as it were. Only ten years of age at the time, but admirably trained to recite ‘Dear Uncle Willard’ and ‘Dear Aunt Rosemary’ on cue. The great disaster began the year Lady Gloriana turned thirteen and began to grow.”

“She became fat?”

“No, although I will allow she would be more pleasing if she lost a stone or two. The problem is she has grown so tall. I myself have remarked her standing next to the blacksmith, who is known to be six feet three, and I would estimate she is no more than an inch shorter than he is. Such a catastrophe for the Pierce-Smythes, who would have done better not to inflict the presence of schoolgirls upon their adult company, for you must know, I do not at all approve of such modern practices. But having once introduced her to society at such a tender age, how can they now shut her up in the attic, so to speak?

“As sorry as I feel for the gel, I must admit I have enjoyed watching the Pierce-Smythes try to come about. When Lady Gloriana reached five feet nine or so, they sent a letter off posthaste to the vicar, her grandfather, requesting he come and remove her, but he had already gone to claim his heavenly reward.”

There was a light rap at the door, then the housekeeper entered bearing not only the fresh tea, but also a letter from Mrs. Pierce-Smythe.

Perusing the missive, Amelia gasped. “The gall of that woman. She has the nerve to invite me and my houseguest to dine with her
en famille
this evening. You may count on it, Letty, she has ferreted out your identity, even though she pretends not to know your name. Have I not told you she was encroaching? Of course I shall decline.”

“Do not be so hasty. I am not at all sure my stomach is up to another of the burnt offerings from your kitchen. I assume Mrs. Pierce-Smythe has chosen her cook for her culinary abilities rather than for her propensity to gossip?”

“Actually, she has a French chef, and her idea of potluck will probably be a dozen courses of four removes each. But my dear Letty, do please consider that if I should accept her hospitality, which I have not the slightest intention of doing, I would then be forced to acknowledge her, and though I am not so high in the instep that I am unwilling to give the squire’s wife a nod on Sunday, one must draw the line somewhere.”

“But my dear, surely you do not wish me to miss such an opportunity to observe this farce first hand?”

“Do not try to turn me up sweet, Letty. I know perfectly well what your intentions are. You plan to—to interfere. That has always been the chief difference between us. Where I am content to observe, you delight in playing the role of
deus ex machina.
”

“My dear departed second husband, Mr. Edward Newbold, was wont to call it meddling, but even he agreed I am a dab hand at arranging other people’s lives.”

“Newbold! I knew that name sounded familiar. Was he perhaps ...”

“Related to the enterprising Miss Newbold? Her nephew, in fact, which is how I was so fortunate as to hear the whole story. Quite the most lusty of my husbands, so if his aunt was anything like him, it is understandable that the king should have been led to stray from the strait and narrow path. I feel compelled, therefore, to do my puny best to aid my husband’s unfortunate young cousin. But you need not accompany me. I am quite capable of depressing the pretensions of mushrooms.”

“Well, if you refuse to listen to reason, I might as well make a start on packing. Once you mention how I am your very dear friend, and somehow I feel sure you will find the opportunity to do so, that wretched woman will give me no peace. She will be ringing my doorbell at all hours and lying in wait for me every time I set foot outside my garden. I declare, you have made it necessary for me to endure three months of visiting my daughters after I have been so successful in wriggling out of that obligation this year. I only hope that I will be gone long enough for Mrs. Pierce-Smythe to lose interest in me.”

“You might, if you prefer, accompany me to Edinburgh.”

“And why, pray, should I do that?”

“Well, to begin with, you could stand up with me.”

“Letty, you are not planning to walk down the aisle a fourth time!”

“But what is a woman without a man beside her? I confess, dear George caught me in a moment of weakness, and I accepted his offer. We are to be wed in the Cathedral in Edinburgh. That seems suitably far removed from London so that we can avoid attracting undue attention, especially from my sons and daughters-in-law.”

“Attention? Can it be— Is George perhaps Mr.— No, he cannot be.”

“Mr. George Morrough? But of course. What other George do I number in my acquaintance?’“

“But Letty, he is a good five years younger than you and a veritable nabob!”

“Are you accusing me of being a cradle robber or a fortune hunter? I assure you, I am neither. It is his other attributes that have persuaded me to agree to the match.”

“Letty!”

“I was referring, of course, to his educated mind and his amusing wit. Pray, what did you think I meant?”

Amelia Carlisle blushed, but did not answer the question.

* * * *

Feeling as if she had wandered by mistake into a gross parody of a rose garden, which did not belong in her worst nightmare, Lady Letitia seated herself on the only gilt chair in the Pierce-Smythes’ drawing room that was not ornamented with yellow roses done in needlepoint. To compound the horror of her surroundings, giant pink tea roses adorned the wallpaper and were repeated in the carpet. Tucked into the corners of the settees were plump pillows embroidered with improbable orange roses, which clashed dreadfully with the lavender roses in the upholstery. Nor had Mrs. Pierce-Smythe neglected the real roses, which were arranged flamboyantly in large vases scattered here and there around the room.

After closing her eyes for a moment to gather her strength, and realizing nothing could shut out the overpowering perfume of the flowers, Lady Letitia managed to smile sweetly at her hostess. “It was really fortuitous of you to issue your kind invitation to dine with you this evening. I can only regret that Mrs. Carlisle, who is, as I am sure you know, my very
dearest
friend, was unable to accompany me this evening. I had meant to call upon you on the morrow, but this will give me a better chance to become acquainted with my late husband’s young cousin.”

“Cousin?”

Three blank stares met Lady Letitia’s imperturbable gaze. “But of course—dear Lady Gloriana. How does she get on? She will be joining us for dinner, will she not?”

“Oh, of course,” Mrs. Pierce-Smythe said faintly. “I had better ... if you will excuse me, I shall see what is delaying her.”

With an expression on her face that more nearly resembled a grimace than a smile, she hurriedly left the room.

Her husband harrumphed and cleared his throat, but made no other attempt to entertain his guest. The joys of dining
en famille
were vastly overrated in Lady Letitia’s considered opinion. On the other hand, with a few embellishments, the account of this evening should make a vastly amusing story for dear George.

“I am ten years old now,” Rosabelle said, apparently feeling called upon to take up the conversational slack left by her mother’s sudden departure. Her legs crossed daintily at the ankle, her rose-colored skirts arrayed neatly around her, and her hands folded primly in her lap, she sat beside her remaining parent, who bestowed a doting look on her. “My father bought me a little gray pony for my birthday. She is the most
beautiful
pony in the whole world, and I love her dearly. And I have the most cunning saddle that is all my very own. My riding habit is pink. That is my favorite color.”

“And very pretty you look in it, too, my sweet.” Her father beamed down at her and patted her hand.

Nauseating child, Lady Letitia thought. Someone should tell her that she would be vastly more attractive if she were not so smugly conscious of her own looks. And someone should tell her parents that ten-year-old children are better kept in the schoolroom, no matter how precocious their parents think them.

“Ah, here we are now.” Mrs. Pierce-Smythe sailed into the room, trailed by ...

Gracious me, Lady Letitia thought, what have I gotten myself mixed up in? Any ideas she might have had about taking the chit along with her to Edinburgh died aborning.