Authors: A Proper Companion
* * *
After spending the morning with Miss Newfield, Edmond experienced a satisfaction unlike any he could recall. She was nothing like the young ladies he had observed in London, the girls who simpered and giggled and posed in their pretty frocks while trying to ensnare some unattached peer or heir. The same young misses had turned their backs when he approached because he was a younger son lacking both title and fortune. He could not imagine any of those giddy girls facing a challenge as admirably as Miss Newfield. Although she had been afraid, she had not only faced her fears but done it with good humor, just as her heroic brother might have done. Her insistence upon giving him the credit for their successful lesson soothed a hidden wound in his soul.
To his relief, he observed that Miss Newfield did not wilt under Mother’s scorching rule, which had been his concern from the moment he invited her to Greystone Lodge. Thus he could not regret bringing her here, for he felt certain she would do only good for the entire household. Still, he must remain on his guard against any display of admiration, especially in the presence of his mother and his bothersome eldest brother. While Mother seemed oblivious to Miss Newfield’s beauty, Greystone took entirely too much delight in teasing Edmond as if they were still boys and his joking could create no lasting damage.
But indeed, it could utterly destroy a kind and innocent soul, should Mother decide the young lady had set her cap for him.
Chapter Eight
A
nna had no illusions that her good experience with the first riding lesson indicated she would become a skilled rider, for Major Grenville had kept Bella at a walk the entire time. Horses also trotted and galloped. What would the mare have done if the groom had released the halter? If something had startled her into a run? Anna prayed she would develop both aptitude and proficiency very soon. And a much better attitude would not hurt. So when Lord Greystone met Anna and the major in the front entry and asked her how the lesson went, she put on her best face.
“Major Grenville is a remarkable instructor. I am certain I shall become competent enough on horseback to please Lady Greystone.” She ended in a rush, for this was the first time she had addressed the viscount. Or any peer.
“Ah, yes, I have no doubt my brother is an excellent riding teacher.” Lord Greystone chuckled and nudged the major, who scowled at him. “And if you manage to please my mother, madam, you will have accomplished something no mortal has yet been able to do these past seven and forty years.” He sauntered away, still laughing, but not before he cast a smirk in the major’s direction.
Still scowling, the major stiffened. He stalked away, but then turned and strode back to her. “Miss Newfield, it has been a pleasure.” He bowed over her hand without smiling, then left her.
Anna stood in the center of the marble-floored entryway trying to guess what this little scene meant. She had no doubt the brothers cared deeply for one another and probably teased each other just as she and Peter always did. But the moment they encountered the viscount, the major became defensive. Perhaps they had quarreled. With a sigh, she climbed the marble stairway, resolving to pray for the brothers, that they might dwell together in unity.
As she passed the door to Lady Greystone’s suite, Mrs. Hudson emerged and curtseyed. “Did the habit suit you, miss?”
“Yes, thank you.” How odd to have this older woman treat her with such deference. “I could not have altered it without your help.”
Mrs. Hudson’s pale blue eyes brightened. “Why, thank you, miss. You’re kind to say so.”
Her genuine surprise at the compliment gave Anna pause. She had much to learn about the complex social levels among the servants.
“Mrs. Hudson, perhaps you can advise me about something.”
Again, shock registered across the woman’s pale, wrinkled features. “I’d be honored to help, miss. What is it?”
“Well, you see, I am not certain what my duties are as a companion. How is my job different from yours?”
Mrs. Hudson drew back. “Such a question, miss.”
For a moment, Anna thought she might walk away. Instead, she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I have the privilege of seeing to all of Lady Greystone’s personal matters regarding clothing and hair. She is a most meticulous lady and knows exactly what she wants. My job is to be in or near her chambers at all times in case she requires my services, and to make certain she is dressed fit to meet the most august personage, even the Queen.”
“Ah, yes. I noticed her perfection the moment I first saw her. And you are the one who’s responsible.” She did not intend to flatter the woman, but her words sparked a blush of pleasure.
“I do try.” Mrs. Hudson continued to beam. “As to your duties, miss, you’re to be at the ready, as well, but you are privileged to accompany Her Ladyship wherever she goes. That is, wherever she wants you to go. She may have you read to her or fetch a fan or deliver a message to a servant or perform any other such errand. Sometimes she will want you simply to be with her.”
“I see.” Now Anna understood the viscountess’s comment about youthful energy, for this job would certainly require that. “Should I wait to be sent for at mealtime?” She had not gone down to the breakfast room this morning and was beginning to feel the effects of that omission.
“Unless Lady Greystone or His Lordship has a guest, you may assume you should be present at every meal.” Mrs. Hudson wrinkled her forehead. “And of course, it depends upon who the guest is.”
“Very good. Thank you so much, Mrs. Hudson.” While this conversation did not give her a complete picture of her duties, it was a start. Further, Mrs. Hudson promised to warn Anna if she was about to do something wrong or wear an inappropriate gown. Not that she had many to choose from.
With a new friend and a new sense of purpose, Anna felt comforted in her lingering grief over
Papá
’s death and Peter’s absence. Now if she could just discover what caused the problem between Major Grenville and his eldest brother, perhaps she could urge them to reconcile. But then, that was hardly her place—and might be just enough to see her dismissed.
* * *
To Anna’s great joy, on Sunday morning everyone in the household walked through the woodlands to the village church. Lord Greystone led the way with his mother, Richard and Mary followed, and Anna strolled beside Major Grenville. Behind them stretched a group of some twenty or so servants, all dressed in their best clothes, hats and bonnets. Anna had plundered poor Miss Peel’s leftovers and found a warm woolen cape that proved black enough to receive Lady Greystone’s approval for a mourning garment.
The days seemed colder than usual for late October, but with numerous villagers and members of the local gentry filling the church, no healthy person could complain of a chill. Anna sat with the family in a place of prominence, much as she had at home, except that here she was at the outside end of the front pew. As the service commenced, she had no need for her prayer book, for the order of events was printed on her mind. During the aged vicar’s sermon on faith, she glanced up at Major Grenville and noticed with satisfaction that he seemed to be enjoying the service as much as she. On the journey to the church, she had also been pleased to see an easy camaraderie amongst the three brothers. Perhaps the mysterious offense of a few days ago had been dealt with.
In spite of the brisk wind, after the service many people lingered outside the church to visit. Anna watched Lady Greystone and her sons chat with various parishioners, but she was unsure of what to do. Since
Mamá
’s death, she had acted as her father’s hostess and often invited church members to the vicarage for an afternoon meal. She’d had no difficulty talking with the people of Blandon, but no one here knew her. Without an introduction, she could not approach anyone, even a villager.
As often before, Major Grenville glanced her way but made no move to approach her, nor did he offer a smile. But he was speaking first with the vicar and then with old friends, so why should he acknowledge his mother’s companion or introduce her to the neighbors?
“Miss Newfield?” The vicar approached her, his black cassock and white hair whipping about in the wind. “How nice to see you this morning. I do hope you enjoyed the service.”
Her heart lifted by his kindness, Anna curtseyed. “I did, Mr. Partridge. The text you read from Hebrews is one of my favorites.”
“Indeed?” His bushy grey eyebrows rose. “Are you a student of scripture, then?”
She laughed softly. “Oh, yes. One does not grow up a vicar’s daughter without developing an appreciation for God’s Word.”
“Ah, I had no idea.” Now his face shone with a paternal glow, much like
Papá
’s. “Newfield. I seem to recall that a William Newfield was the vicar of Blandon. Is he your father?”
“Yes. Did you know him?” Tears threatened to erupt, along with a world of emotion she had held in these past many days.
“I knew of him. A man of irreproachable reputation, as I recall.” The vicar touched her shoulder and gazed into her eyes. “May I assume he is—”
“In the presence of the Lord…and with my mother.” Anna forced her emotions into obedience and briefly apprised him of the circumstances that had brought her to Greystone Village.
“Ah, yes, your brother.” Mr. Partridge glanced toward the dwindling crowds. “Major Grenville just told me of his courageous actions. Now that I know more of your situation, perhaps that is why he asked me to speak to you.”
Surprised, Anna gazed across the churchyard. The major caught her look and ducked away, but not before she saw his slight grin. His kindness swept over her like a warm blanket, once again causing tears to form.
The vicar squeezed her shoulder as
Papá
used to do. “Miss Newfield, if Lady Greystone permits, may I call upon you? Sometimes we are helped in our grieving when we have a friend to talk with.”
Anna could do no more than nod and offer a trembling smile. And lift a silent prayer of thanks for both the vicar and the major, two gentlemen whose compassion for her was clearly God’s consolation in her grief.
* * *
Edmond gratefully watched Mr. Partridge visit with Miss Newfield, but discomfort replaced approval when she seemed about to cry. Then like a gallant dragoon, she visibly reined in her emotions, easing his concern. Mother would not have a weeping woman for a companion and would doubtless send the young woman away, should she be given to tears. Most mornings in the breakfast room, her eyes were rimmed with red, and an ache to comfort her formed in Edmond’s chest. Yet she soldiered on through the day with a pleasant countenance.
He could not help but wonder what deep thoughts dwelt behind those intelligent green eyes, which seemed to miss nothing and more often than not exuded a selfless interest in others. Then again, he could not watch her too much or Greystone would begin his teasing once more. If he did, Edmond would be sorely tempted to thrash his brother, title notwithstanding. He’d never been a cruel fellow, but he seemed oblivious to the danger he put Miss Newfield in with his unfounded innuendos.
Edmond held no more rancor toward Greystone than he did toward Richard, who was far more circumspect in all matters. But Greystone had never had a care in the world. With wealth and power at his disposal, his future was assured. He could participate in politics as much or as little as he wished and even avoid too much involvement in Parliament without loss.
Yet in only one way did Edmond envy Greystone: he alone had any memories of their father, who died when Edmond was only three. Did his brothers wonder, as he often did, how their lives might have been different if Father had survived the influenza that struck Greystone Village in 1789? Would Mother have been a softer woman, more kindly and generous, instead of a woman to be feared by those whose lives she controlled? But neither Mother nor Greystone spoke of the fourth Lord Greystone, either for good or for ill, leaving only unanswered questions. Even his portrait was hung at the end of the family’s portrait gallery where no daylight illuminated it.
As the family fell into line behind his parent and eldest brother to begin their journey home, Edmond offered his arm to Miss Newfield. Surely Mother could not object to this simple courtesy. For his part, the young lady’s pretty smile lightened the weight in his chest caused by his dark musings and replaced it with an unexpected surge of joy. In the presence of her refreshing optimism, he found himself believing she would bring good things to his family. But as she set her delicate, gloved hand on his arm, he found it exceedingly difficult to watch the scenery when he would much prefer to study her fair face, a regard that could cause them both some serious difficulty.
Chapter Nine
E
arly the next week, Lady Greystone announced at breakfast that she would spend the afternoon at the village school. After her talk with Mrs. Hudson, Anna need not ask whether she would be accompanying her employer. In fact, the excursion sounded more than a little appealing.
“Edmond.” Lady Greystone stared down the table at her youngest son. “You will go with me.” Her words carried a commanding tone.
“Of course.” Major Grenville sounded bored as he toyed with his eggs, but his eyes betrayed an awareness that incited Anna’s curiosity. As if sensing her gaze, he turned to her. “Miss Newfield, you may be interested to know that Mother subscribes to Hannah More’s view that all English children, whatever their social status, should be taught to read the Bible. She established the school for that purpose.”
“How wonderful.” Anna’s opinion of her employer improved significantly on the spot. “I will enjoy observing the teaching methods utilized by the teachers.”
“Humph.” Lady Greystone sipped her coffee. “The National Society for Promoting Education for the Poor should have reached every corner of England and Wales by now. Have they no school in Brandon?”
“No, my lady.” Anna refrained from reminding her that the village was called Blandon. “Unlike Mrs. More and the Society, Squire Beamish holds the view that farmers’ offspring do not need to read, write or cipher, which my father found lamentable. To rectify the situation, he established his own Sunday morning school, but also taught classes two days a week.”
“And did you help him?” The major’s eyes lit with approval.
Anna felt heat rising in her cheeks. Why did his attention cause her such emotion? “I did, sir, but I had no training for the work.”
“But the children did learn?”
“Oh, yes. They were very bright and were eager to read for themselves.”
“Very commendable, Miss Newfield.” Lord Greystone lifted his coffee cup in a salute to her. “Do you not agree, Edmond?”
The major scowled at his brother and started to speak, but Mr. Grenville dropped his cup into its saucer with a loud clink, and liquid sloshed onto the damask table cloth.
“Why, something should be done about your Squire Beamish.” Although the cleric surely meant to address Anna, his eyes were focused on the major. “Mother, perhaps you should write to Mrs. More and incite her to reform that gentleman’s thinking.”
All eyes now aimed toward the viscountess. “Indeed,” she huffed. “Am I to suppose you think that woman’s word would carry more influence than mine?”
As if she had rebuked them all, the table grew quiet except for the clatter of utensils on plates and the sounds of footmen removing dishes and refilling cups. Anna could sense a return of that odd tension between the major and the viscount, as well as their brother’s subtle peacemaking, but she could discern no reason for it. What undercurrents of discord flowed here? And why did these Christian gentlemen not resolve their differences? How Anna longed for
Papá
’s godly intervention.
* * *
Edmond chided himself for bringing attention to Miss Newfield, but she offered him such a gentle, inquiring look that he felt compelled to say something. And of course Greystone took advantage of the situation. At least Edmond had Richard on his side, even though it earned him Mother’s rebuke. As Edmond saw it, he had two choices. He must speak to Greystone in a manner that brooked no argument, or he must begin to treat Miss Newfield with utter disregard, as if she were a servant. That would be impossible, for he still must continue in her company and would never wish to cause her pain. The only solution was to accost Greystone after the trip to the village school.
The day was cold, and the wind cut through Edmond’s cloak like a knife as he followed along behind the ladies, his injured leg aching with every step. Miss Newfield, however, walked behind Mother at a pace he could only describe as lively. Her eagerness to reach their destination spread to him, easing his struggle. He never ceased to marvel at her optimism in the face of her own tragedies and challenges. She had grown more confident in their riding lessons, and soon he would increase Bella’s gait to a trot. Perhaps the time had come for him to get back on a horse so he could help her. But then, Mother might regard that as an indication he was ready to go back to war, a dreadful prospect.
The school was located in a thatched-roofed house a half block from the village center and boasted a loft above its single room that served as the teacher’s living quarters. With harvest completed, every village child between the ages of six and twelve was expected to come for daily lessons. Edmond suspected Mother would demand a roll call.
She approached the house and waved Edmond forward. “You will announce me.”
He opened the door and stepped inside to see a dozen or so children seated or standing around a greying, middle-aged woman, each child taking a turn reading from a prayer book. In a tone that would have made their butler proud, he announced, “Lady Greystone.”
Every eye swung in their direction as Mother sailed into the room. The teacher stood and ordered the children up. “Lady Greystone.” Her breathless tone revealed surprise and a modicum of awe. “Welcome. Children, what do we say?”
“Welcome, Lady Greystone,” rang the chorus. While the girls dipped perfect curtseys, the boys executed excellent bows, each tugging a forelock to demonstrate their tenant status.
Mother’s chin lifted slightly. She then favored them all with a condescending nod. Edmond could discern neither approval nor disapproval in her posture or expression.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Billings, children.” Mother pulled her quizzing glass from her reticule and scanned the room. “Carry on. I have come only to observe.”
Mrs. Billings directed two older boys to bring chairs for the ladies, then resumed her lessons. Edmond noted with satisfaction that Miss Newfield watched the class with genuine interest. Were the post of teacher not taken, she might fill it admirably. Mother’s interest centered on the behavior of the boys, who despite her august presence could not keep from mischief. Several seemed bent on slyly pinching another behind their teacher’s back. Or perhaps they were testing her, something Edmond and his brothers had often done. To protect the lads from a scolding, he straightened to his full height and narrowed his eyes as he did to insubordinate soldiers. The tomfoolery ceased immediately.
* * *
When the major put the boys in their places with only a severe look, Anna had to suck in her cheeks to keep from laughing. These children misbehaved just like the students in Blandon. All they required was a firm hand to bring them to order. While one would think Lady Greystone’s presence would incite flawless decorum, it was Major Grenville, ever resplendent in his crimson uniform, who put a stop to their naughtiness. And, of course, all the little girls sent admiring glances his way while pretending to be engrossed in their lesson. Anna did not blame them, for the major was indeed a handsome gentleman whose presence she always found pleasant and comforting.
Shocked by this thought, she doubled her efforts to pay attention to the little girl who now stood before them reciting a psalm. But her mind would not be still. She must not form an attachment to this gentleman. Even in the small, remote village of Blandon, she had learned that sons of the peerage could destroy their futures should they marry beneath their station. No matter what the laws of God were regarding the equality of all his children, human society had relegated every person to a particular rank. And woe to those who dared to seek a higher position or who married a person considered inferior. Thus, she must guard her heart, more for Major Grenville’s sake than her own.
But then, all of these thoughts were utter nonsense. The major had been kind to her, but he had never shown the least interest in her other than brotherly concern. And if her foolish heart insisted upon attaching itself to him, then it deserved any pain that resulted.
* * *
While Mother gave instructions to Mrs. Billings, Edmond watched Miss Newfield take a small, timid child on her lap to play cat’s cradle. The chosen girl gazed adoringly at the lady, perhaps unused to being singled out. He had his own admirers, for every boy in the room swarmed around him asking questions. While offering a few battle anecdotes of the milder sort, he let each lad try on his tall black hat and touch his sword. To a man, each one declared himself ready to fight for England. In return, Edmond expressed confidence in their ability to defend their homeland when they reached manhood. When Mother announced the visit was over, their little party left behind a schoolroom full of cheerful souls, if their well-pleased expressions were any indication.
The late afternoon wind cut into them even more sharply than on their trip to the village. At the sight of Miss Newfield shivering in her wrap, Edmond experienced a strong impulse to enfold her in his heavier woolen cape. But, as always, she forged gamely onward in Mother’s footsteps along the narrow path. Perhaps a little conversation would take their minds off the cold.
“I say, Miss Newfield, you seem to have made some friends among the girls.” Edmond ignored the sharp look Mother sent over her shoulder. How could she object to a simple chat?
Miss Newfield glanced at Mother, then graced him with one of her exquisite smiles. “I would say the same for you, Major. The boys were clearly enthralled by the grandeur of your uniform.” Was that a smirk on those perfect lips? A hint of teasing in her tone?
Edmond’s heart skipped. As always, Miss Newfield was nothing short of a delight.
When they reached the Lodge, even Mother camped beside the hearth in the small back parlor and called for tea.
“I think I’ll find Greystone,” Edmond said when he had recovered from his chill. He would not put off any longer the much-needed discussion about Miss Newfield. “Johnson, do you know where His Lordship is?”
A fresh tea tray in hand, the butler crossed the room and set it on the occasional table. “Yes, sir. He asked me to inform Lady Greystone that he’s ridden over to Shrewsbury for a few days.”
“What?” Mother scowled at the news, then shook her head. “Well, after all, he is no longer required to answer to me.”
Edmond’s displeasure could not be shaken off so easily. True, Greystone did not have to tell the family where he was going, but courtesy should have required it. Furthermore, Edmond would now be forced to cool his heels for who knew how long before taking his eldest brother to task for his thoughtless insinuations.