Gayle Buck (3 page)

Lady Caroline quietly indicated to the footman that he might serve her before she replied, saying evenly, “The carriage is naturally at your disposal if you should wish it, Amaris.”

“Well, I do not wish it! Pray do not put words into my mouth, my lady. It is a vastly unbecoming trait to presume to do so,” Mrs. Burlington said waspishly. She irritablly waved away the footman’s attempts to serve her some barley soup. “Take away that ghastly concoction at once. I shall not touch it. Really, I do not know what the cook is about these days. One would expect to be better served at table in a house of this size. But one must not refine too much on it, for not every detail can be expected to be attended to with equal care whilst under
your
management, Lady Caroline.” The last was said with a glittering glance and tight half-smile turned in her niece’s direction.

Lady Caroline pretended not to hear the vitriol in her aunt’s voice. With every appearance of continued amiability, she said, “I suppose at times it must seem so. However, I find the work both satisfying and stimulating.”

Mrs. Burlington gave an angry titter. “Yes, so you have told me on numerous occasions. It is unnatural. A lady should never concern herself with figures and encumbrances and whatever else it is that you do when closed up in that stuffy study. Those matters are for the gentlemen to see to, my dear niece. They are far better equipped to it.”

Uppermost in Lady Caroline’s mind was the recollection that her aunt’s late and unlamented husband had managed to squander his own and his wife’s fortunes before he had died of a heart attack, very appropriately, at the gaming table. Ironically enough, his last hand had been a winning one, and if he had had time to play it, he might have recouped enough of his more recent losses that he could have left at least a small jointure for his wife.

As it was, Mrs. Burlington had found herself destitute without even a roof over her head, for the house was discovered to have been hopelessly mortgaged, and she had been forced to accept her sister’s offer of a permanent home at Berwicke Keep.

The Countess of Berwicke, Lady Caroline’s mother, had been a compassionate woman who seldom saw anything but the best in everyone. She had been universally liked by her acquaintances and her employees. If her ladyship had had any glaring fault, it was that she could at times deliberately blind herself to the most unfortunate circumstances.

Mrs. Burlington was from the first a difficult addition to the family circle, and matters had not improved with the years. The earl had learned not to disparage his sister-in-law to his wife, for if he ever did so, it was so upsetting to her ladyship’s illusion of serendipity that she became miserable for days. Mrs. Burlington quickly seized the advantages inherent in such lack of criticism to usurp her sister’s authority whenever it best suited her.

When the countess died, Lady Caroline was barely sixteen. It would have been natural for a young girl to turn to her nearest female relation for comfort over the loss of her gentle mother and her guidance into full womanhood, but such had not happened. Lady Caroline, who had inherited both her father’s percipience and his practicality, had years before taken her maternal aunt’s measure and had found her wanting. It was a measure of her judgment that she had never addressed Mrs. Burlington as “Aunt,” for that would have connoted an affection between them that had never existed. Lady Caroline knew that it had greatly enraged Mrs. Burlington to be balked in her attempts to take on the role of mentor. Mrs. Burlington’s unfailing attitude toward her ever since had been one of censure and thinly veiled dislike. However, on those days preceded by Mrs. Burlington’s indifferent nights, her aunt habitually abandoned all but the most entrenched civilities. Indeed, Mrs. Burlington’s insistence to address Lady Caroline with exaggerated formality but pointed up the lady’s deliberate rancor.

As Lady Caroline coolly looked over at her aunt, she wondered why she even bothered to keep up the civilities with one who was so determined to wound her. Years before, she had determined to do so because she had not wished to burden her father with the open warfare that would have erupted between them. It had become habit thereafter, especially when her brother had come into the title and had proved to be much like their mother in his inability to deal with strife. But there were now just herself and the dreadful old woman in the house.

The thought spurred her own controlled temper to shake experimentally at its bonds. Her voice was deceptively calm. “And what would you have me do, Amaris? Shall I allow the estate to go to rack and ruin for want of proper attention? I do not think my brother would thank me for such careless administration of my responsibilities when he has entrusted me to handle all matters relating to the estate in his absence.”

“Of course not! That is not at all what I meant. How you do take one up, Lady Caroline!” Mrs. Burlington said. “I merely wish to point out that it is most unbecoming in you not to at least consult with a knowledgeable gentleman before making any decision. That, surely, would be most unexceptionable even to one of your headstrong temperament.”

Lady Caroline lifted shapely brows. “I apprehend that we at last approach the point of this exercise. Pray do tell me the name of this knowledgeable gentleman, Amaris. Or might I guess?” Her voice had become faintly mocking.

The footmen serving at table exchanged quick startled glances. Careful to remain as silent and unobtrusive as possible, they removed the soup bowls and began to serve the main course. They were unwilling to leave the dining room when such an unusual exchange was shaping up.

Mrs. Burlington stared at her niece through narrowed eyes. She could scarcely contain her annoyance. This niece of hers had always had the trick of setting her down without seeming to make the least push to do so. If she had been the girl’s mother, she thought, then perhaps matters would have gone a bit differently through the years.

“Lord Hathaway is eminently suited to take such weighty matters upon his shoulders,” Mrs. Burlington said.

“I do not doubt it in the least. However, I too am eminently suited to the task. My brother would not have left me in complete charge if that were not the case. So pray let us have no more about this, Amaris. I shall not welcome it, you see.” Lady Caroline’s words were gently said, but there was an underlying steel in her voice that would brook no argument. The expression in her eyes was as cool and as steadfast as her voice.

Lady Caroline signaled the footmen that they could begin clearing. Neither she nor her aunt had done justice to the excellent repast, but she found that her original appetite had dwindled with the unpleasant exchange. “We shall have coffee in the drawing room, I think.” She turned to her aunt. “Shall we go to the drawing room, Amaris?”

If Lady Caroline hoped that her aunt would be angered to the point of refusing to remain in her company, she was disappointed. Mrs. Burlington acquiesced to the suggestion with a tight nod and also rose from the table.

In the drawing room the two ladies settled in their usual places. Lady Caroline seated herself in a wing chair situated so as to take full advantage of the sunlight glancing in the tall window. Beside the chair was a basket holding skeins of colorful threads and yarns and the embroidery pieces on which she was currently at work. She reached down to pick up the waiting embroidery hoop and began plying her needle.

Mrs. Burlington took the settee. She picked up the latest
Lady’s Magazine
and flipped through the pages discontentedly while the butler set the tray on the low table that separated her seat from Lady Caroline’s.

When the butler had left, closing the door softly behind him, Mrs. Burlington returned to the attack. “My dear niece, I do think that you should give heed to this much of what I have to say, at least. Lord Hathaway is a most worthy gentleman and he is absolutely devoted to you. You should be more encouraging of him.”

Lady Caroline threw a glance at her aunt. This, too, was an old argument, and she discovered that she had little patience for it that day. It seemed that after she had permitted herself the unusual luxury of snapping back at her aunt, it was now more difficult to control her temper. Setting aside her embroidery and picking up the coffeepot, she said shortly, “Lord Hathaway is all that you say, Amaris. He is also a dull dog.”

“I do not find his lordship so,” Mrs. Burlington said. “In any event, you are too nice in your requirements, my dear niece. The relationship between a gentleman and his lady is not one of spirited conversation or feeling, I assure you.’’

Lady Caroline did not answer. She poured coffee for her aunt, adding the milk and sugar for which Mrs. Burlington had a partiality, and offered the cup and saucer to her companion.

Mrs. Burlington took the cup and saucer with scarce thanks. It never failed to rankle her that it was her niece who served as hostess, even when they were alone.

Upon her sister’s death, Mrs. Burlington had attempted to take possession of what she considered her rightful place as hostess for her brother-in-law and mistress of the household. But instead, those privileges had been seized by a sixteen-year-old miss just emerged out of the schoolroom, with what Mrs. Burlington had at the time realized was the full complicity of the servants.

When she had stridently remonstrated with the earl, his lordship had brushed aside her criticism with a fine disregard. “Let be, Amaris,” he had said. “Lady Caroline must learn her future role as mistress of a grand house, and I can think of no better teacher than experience under my own roof.”

Mrs. Burlington still seethed over that defeat. She had never forgiven the earl that slight, nor, indeed, the fact that she was at Berwicke Keep on sufferance.

Mrs. Burlington had always resented the turn of fate that had made her the object of her younger sister’s largess— she, who had been the elder, the prettier, the wittier!—so that now she had become dependent upon her sister’s daughter for those same courtesies.

“I should have been your mother. Then perhaps you would pay me the respect to which I am due,” Mrs. Burlington said abruptly, as an extension of her thoughts. She set down the coffee cup sharply.

Lady Caroline looked over the rim of her cup at her aunt in startled surprise. In the complete stillness of Mrs. Burlington’s unfriendly stare, Lady Caroline returned her cup to the table. She had never been one to quail before anticipated unpleasantness and she had long ago learned that her aunt’s embittered nature led to festering of slights, imagined or otherwise, if the woman was not immediately challenged. “I see that you have something weighing on your mind, Amaris. Perhaps you should like to air it between us now,” she said quietly.

Mrs. Burlington gave the slightest of shrugs. “It would hardly be of any interest to you, dear niece. Indeed, when have my opinions been sought out on anything these many years?”

Lady Caroline was not in the mood to retain the kid gloves that she was wont to use whenever her aunt was particularly provoking. She had worked diligently that morning and her exertions had left her pleasantly tired. Her patience had already been stretched to the utmost by Mrs. Burlington’s spiteful utterances.

Lady Caroline’s voice was cold. “I apprehend that you believe yourself ill-treated to have been given the home that you have enjoyed these many years since the demise of your wastrel husband.”

Mrs. Burlington flushed with unpleasant surprise at her niece’s unusual bluntness. “I am sure that I have never complained of my position in this house, such as it is,” she said stiffly.

Lady Caroline’s smile was faint at best and did not quite reach her eyes. “Indeed, that is undoubtedly true. However, I think that you would not have taken it amiss if my father had turned to you in the end. It would have justified your persistence in remaining here after my mother’s death, would it not? After all, before he met my mother, my father was originally your suitor. And you thereafter envied your younger sister the fortune that you felt should have been your own.”

Chapter Four

Mrs. Burlington stared at her niece, aghast. It was all true, but that Lady Caroline should have guessed it was humiliation beyond bearing. “You are impertinent! You do not know what you are saying. What was once between your father and me has nothing at all to do with the matter!”

For the first time in her life, Lady Caroline pursued her aunt mercilessly. “On the contrary, it is the very crux. You harbored resentment and envy against my mother until the day that she died. I saw it and came to understand it. Unlike my dear lady mother, however, I did not close my eyes to it. When she died, you transferred those feelings to me. But I did not bow to them.” She smiled, this time almost with amusement. “You always disapproved of the latitude my father allowed me, decrying it as shocking that I should become the mistress of the house upon my mother’s death.’’

Lady Caroline stared a long moment at her aunt, who had apparently been rendered temporarily speechless, before she continued in a more moderate manner. “Pray allow me to remind you that I am my father’s daughter and it was far more my right then yours to step into my mother’s shoes. As for my brother making me his deputy, that also is not your concern. Nor is it your concern how I choose to receive Lord Hathaway. I am my own mistress, Amaris. Pray remember that from this day forward, for I do not wish to remind you again.”

Rarely had Lady Caroline revealed the depth of her temper so completely. Mrs. Burlington felt herself to be scorched by the white heat of it. She said, with something less than her usual aggressive style and with an openly defensive note, “I have but attempted to guide you in what is considered to be the proper deportment of a young lady, which most certainly does not include acting the master of the house.”

She made a gesture of distaste. “I sometimes expect to find you attired in frock coat and breeches, so presumptuous have you become.”

Genuine laughter was startled from Lady Caroline. Her anger was somewhat defused by her aunt’s nonsensical revelation. “Really, Amaris! Such a picture you conjure up. I assure you that I have no intention of parading myself about in so ludicrous a fashion.” She shook her head, the smile still lurking about her mouth as she picked up her embroidery again.