The Devil's Own Luck (Once a Spy) (19 page)

Cecelia came to the conclusion that taking the children with her to explore the house had not been one of her wiser decisions. They shrieked and ran up and down the corridors, hid from one another beneath the Holland covers, touched everything in sight and nearly succeeded in breaking a lamp and two vases. Both were covered with dust from the attic by the time she handed her charges over to Ellie. Their lessons in manners, Cecelia concluded, could begin none too soon.
    “They’re in need of a good scrubbing, lunch and then a nap,” she told the nursemaid. “Have Mattie help you.”
    “I don’t want a nap,” Rosy protested . “I’m not sleepy.”
    “Me neither,” David said sullenly. “An’ I don’t want a bath.”
    Both continued to protest, but Ellie turned a deaf ear to their complaints as she scolded and bustled them up to the nursery.
    “Whew,” Cecelia muttered to herself when she took refuge in her sitting room. “That was exhausting.” She was about to ring for tea when a knock sounded at the door.
    “Yes?”
    The door swung open and Winston stepped inside with a somewhat apologetic look on his face as he said, “My lady, Miss Mae has asked if you would care to take tea with her and Mrs. Halston in her sitting room.”
    But Cecelia thought that tea with Miss Mae sounded vastly entertaining. “That would be lovely. Tell her I would be delighted.” She glanced at the mantle clock. “If you would have someone come ‘round in about fifteen minutes to escort me to her room. It will take a bit of time, before I know my way about.”
    The proper, expressionless mask he normally wore had returned. “Yes, my lady.”
    “Thank you.”

Miss Mae’s chambers were on the third floor of the east wing and though she might be an impoverished relation of a previous marquis, Cecelia was happy to see that she had not been neglected. The furnishings were of good quality. The room was well lit and airy. Several floral arrangements and various pieces of bric-a-brac were scattered about the room. Miss Mae was seated in a tapestry covered chair with a tangled batch of embroidery silks in her lap. She wore an old fashioned lavender gown with a high neck. The plainness of the gown only served to accentuate her pink crinkled cheeks and silvery white hair. A sturdy woman of middle years with dark hair pulled into a bun and partially covered with a lace cap sat across from her. She laid aside her embroidery and rose the moment she saw Cecelia. She curtsied and then exclaimed in an uneasy rush, “Lady Clarendon. Please sit down. I am Eva Halston, Miss Mae’s companion. It is so good of you to take the time to have tea with us. It should arrive any moment. I hope this isn’t an inconvenience for you, as I’m certain you’ve a great many other things to do.”
    Cecelia was a little surprised at the woman’s nervousness. “Oh, no. I’m delighted to join you,” she assured her. “I’ve spent the past few hours roaming the house with the children. It was great fun, but exhausting. Tea is just what I need.” She seated herself in an elegant rosewood chair and then turned to Miss Mae. “How are you this afternoon, Miss Mae?”
    “Well enough, I suppose. I am eighty-three, you know, and at eighty-three one is doing well to wake up in the morning.” The elderly woman sighed as she looked at the embroidery silks in her lap. “Oh, dear. I’ve tangled the silks into a dreadful mess. My hands simply don’t work right any longer. Or my eyes. Would you fetch my spectacles, Eva?” She sighed again with great emphasis. “I do hate being old.”
    “But Miss Mae, your spectacles give you terrible headaches,” Mrs. Halston reminded her. “The last time you tried to wear them you swore you would never put them on again.”
    “But that was some time ago. I should like to try them again. I believe they are in the top drawer of the table beside my bed. Or would it be my dresser? I can’t be certain. You will likely need to look for them. And I would like a freshly laundered handkerchief, too. Not one of those silly little scraps of lace, either. They’re of no use at all. But first would you ask Mrs. Brice to send some blackberry preserves with our tea? Do try to catch her before the tray is sent up.”
    Mrs. Halston opened her mouth to speak but Miss Mae added, “I’ll be perfectly fine, Eva. I promise I will behave while you’re gone.”
    The companion pursed her lips. It was obvious she was purposely being sent from the room. She rose and straightened her skirts. “Of course, Miss Mae. If you will excuse me, my lady.”
    “Oh dear, she seems out of sorts doesn’t she?” Miss Mae said after Mrs. Halston had left the room. “And I did think I was being tactful.” The devilish smile on her face told Cecelia that she hadn’t thought any such thing. “She can be terribly sensitive on occasion, but I needed to speak with you alone because Eva becomes very distressed when I mention the curse. Says it’s all nonsense, but if she truly thought it was nonsense why would she become so disconcerted over it?”
    Cecelia wasn’t certain she had heard correctly. “Curse?” she asked. “What curse?”
    Miss Mae folded her hand in her lap and smiled. “The curse of Clarendon, of course.”
    Cecelia sat forward in her seat. Her lips were slightly parted and her eyes danced. “There’s a curse? How terribly exciting! Tell me about it.”
    “It began with the sixth Marquis of Clarendon. The old Abbey had fallen into ruins by then and he saw an opportunity to line his pockets by knocking down and selling off the stone. Such a dreadful, dreadful man.”
    “The marquis was a dreadful man?”
    “Oh yes, my dear. A curse isn’t any good if it isn’t the result of some evil doer. Otherwise what would the point be? He was both dreadful and foolish. He should have left well enough alone. He was also a skinflint who cared nothing for the safety of the men he hired. Once the demolition began there were a number of accidents at the Abbey. Workers were badly injured, several died. After a while, the men he hired simply refused to work. So he hired more workers, the accidents continued and more men died. But he was very determined and it wasn’t until he fell to his death from a stone staircase at the ruins that the project was halted. It was rumored that he was murdered as a means of stopping the destruction and I can’t say I would be surprised if that were the case. Since then all but one of the Marquis have met with an unfortunate death.”
    Remembering that the elderly woman believed Teddy was still the Marquis Cecelia asked, “All but one? Would that be Teddy?”
    “Heaven’s no.” She shook her head. “Teddy managed to get himself coshed on the head by a footpad in the stews of London. Happened years ago. Silly man! Chasing light skirts and gambling in the hells until dawn. He didn’t travel to London often, but when he did he kicked up his heels like a young pup and he was no young pup at the time. Lust and greed can cause the best of men to fall and Teddy was no exception. I warned him time and time again, but of course he wouldn’t listen. I’m afraid we were both terribly headstrong. We were cousins and there was talk of our marrying but neither he nor I would have it. On occasion, I’ve wondered if that were a mistake.” A look of sadness passed over her face.
    Then she smiled. “No point in dwelling on such matters. I was referring to the current marquis, your husband.”
    Miss Mae’s blue eyes held none of the vagueness of yesterday and as she had just acknowledged Rand as the present marquis, Cecelia couldn’t decide whether she was an excellent actress or if her mind simply wandered randomly through time before deciding on a place to land. She suspected the elderly woman was a consummate actress when it suited her purpose.
    “I did think you might want to caution him,” Miss Mae continued. “He appears a rather nice man. It would be lovely to have him about for a while.”
    It hadn’t even occurred to Cecelia that
any
curse could apply to Rand. With the unfortunate exception of his father, good luck and fortune seemed to follow him where ever he went. He was the least likely person she knew to fall victim to anything. Not that it even bore thinking about. She was too practical to be superstitious. Curses were little more than a mixture of coincidence and fantasy. It was all terribly amusing, but she couldn’t keep from asking, “You think he’s in danger?”
    “I don’t know.” Miss Mae shook her head slightly. “I only thought it best to warn you.”
    Cecelia very much wanted to continue the conversation but Mrs. Halston burst through the door at that precise moment. She was flushed and slightly out of breath and it was obvious that she had hurried back before Miss Mae could say too much. In contrast, a composed and dignified Winston followed close behind managing an elegant mahogany cart topped with a silver tray piled with sandwiches, tarts, a tiered basket of nuts and dried fruit and silver teapot and cups.
    He bowed. “Will you pour, my lady? Or shall I?”
    For some reason she didn’t quite understand, Cecelia found presiding over tea-time enjoyable. She supposed it was the stability it offered. The notion that this one tradition in life would always be the same; pouring the tea, arranging the tiny sandwiches and cakes on fragile porcelain plates, even the mundane conversation that took place until everyone was served. It didn’t much matter what else was happening in the world her mother had once observed. The king could be on his deathbed, the country in the midst of war, the heavens could be raining locusts and the seas could turn red with blood, but tea-time would always prevail. She smiled at him. “I will. Thank you.”
    “Is there anything else I can do for you, my lady?”
    “No, thank you.”
    He rolled the cart in front of her, bowed once more, and left.
    Mrs. Halston had presented Miss Mae with a crisply folded handkerchief. “I’ll go find your spectacles. It should only take a moment.”
    Miss Mae waved her hand. “Don’t waste time looking for them. I won’t wear them. They give me a headache.”
    Mrs. Halston flushed and her lips compressed. Cecelia decided that an interruption at this point was in order. “How do you take your tea, Miss Mae?”
    “Cream and one sugar my dear.”
    “And you Mrs. Halston?”
    “Cream and three sugars, milady.” She eyed the lemon tarts. “I confess, I have a sweet tooth.”
    “I do, too,” Cecelia said as poured the tea. “My weakness is ginger biscuits but most anything sweet will do.” She added cream and sugar and then placed several sandwiches and a lemon tart on a plate and handed it to Miss Mae.
    She did the same for Mrs. Halston adding an extra tart. She was wondering what direction to take the conversation when Miss Mae decided for her.
    “You may as well know, Eva. I’ve told her about the curse. It was only fair.”
    “Don’t be silly, Miss Mae. There’s no such thing.” She smiled apologetically at Cecelia. “A run of bad luck always sets tongues to wagging.”
    “Run of bad luck, indeed!” Miss Mae protested. “Ill-luck has befallen the marquis and heirs of Clarendon for years. Lord Clarendon should be told.”
    “I appreciate your concern,” Cecelia said as she added another dollop of cream to her cup. "I’ll apprise my husband of the situation.”
    The sharp-eyed old woman suddenly smiled. “You’re humoring me, my dear, aren’t you?”
    Cecelia burst into laughter. “Yes, I am, Miss Mae. Has it worked?”
    “I suppose,” she admitted grudgingly.
    The situation seemed adequately diffused. Cecelia sipped her tea.
    Mrs. Halston picked up the lemon tart and broke off a small piece. “Do tell us about your children, Lady Clarendon. I adore children. My late husband and I weren’t blessed, I’m afraid.”
    “The children are my husband’s wards,” Cecelia explained. “Friends of the family,” she added, hoping she could manage to skirt the truth without telling an out and out lie. “Rosie is five and David is six.”
    “How lovely,” murmured Miss Halston.
    “Children can be a nuisance,” Miss Mae declared. “They tend to be noisy and grubby and I don’t believe you would have enjoyed having children at all, Eva.”
    Mrs. Halston wore a look of utter horror. “Miss Mae! How could you say such a thing? And I’m certain Lord Clarendon’s wards are neither grubby nor noisy.”
    Miss Mae snorted. “Of course, they are. Very few children are quiet or fastidious and those who are, simply have no spunk at all. Personally I like a little spunkiness in a child. Most children are a nuisance. That’s what they do. It’s expected.”
    “Then I believe you would like my husband’s wards, Miss Mae. Rosie finds it impossible to be quiet and David finds it impossible to stay clean. I sent them to the nursery for a bath and a nap and one would think I had banished them to the dungeons.” She smiled at Mrs. Halston. “I’m afraid, they’ve taken spunkiness a little too far. We hope to calm them down a bit while they’re here.”
    “I should like to meet them,” Miss Mae declared. “Sitting in one’s chair untangling embroidery silks grows tedious and I could do with some entertainment. And Eva becomes very unpleasant when I choose to leave my apartments.”
    “Now, you know perfectly well I’m happy to accompany you if you choose to take a short stroll. I simply don’t want you to become overtired.” She popped the last bite of lemon tart into her mouth and blotted her lips with a napkin.
    Miss Mae sighed heavily as if she knew there was no use in arguing.
    “I will arrange something,” Cecelia promised. “Though I would like to wait a few days to give them a chance to settle in.”
    Miss Mae beamed happily. “Lovely.” She took a small sip of her tea then balanced the cup and saucer on her lap. “Now, my dear, if I could have a word with you about the menu. I find the fare I’m served too bland and better suited to the nursery.”
    Mrs. Halston cast Cecelia an apologetic look before saying, “Dr. Tibbs has said that a woman of your years should be restricted to simple foods to avoid digestive upsets. And I doubt Lady Clarendon is interested in this vein of conversation.”
    The elderly woman scowled. “I don’t see Dr. Tibbs having boiled custard and tasteless broth for dinner every evening.”
    Cecelia glanced from one woman to the other as she debated the best way to deal with this latest grievance. She didn’t want to offend Mrs. Halston by taking Miss Mae’s side but nursery fare as a steady diet would not be to her liking, either. “What were you served last night?” she ventured cautiously.
    “A stew made from unseasoned potatoes, turnips and a miniscule sliver of mutton. It was a dreadful shade of gray.”
    Cecelia shuddered. “I’ll speak with the cook and see if we can come up with a more palatable solution.”
    “Thank you, dear. A spot of brandy now and then wouldn’t come amiss, either. The watered wine I’m served has no flavor at all.” She stopped and put an unconvincing look of chagrin of her face. “Oh dear. I suppose I’m pushing my luck a bit. I shall leave that for another day.”
    Their conversation went on to more mundane topics such as the weather, the ladies of Almack’s and the various entertainments Cecelia had enjoyed at during her season in London. Mrs. Halston seemed particularly enthralled by Cecelia’s description of her presentation at court. Personally, she had thought her presentation to the queen had been five of the dullest minutes of her life and Miss Mae must have thought so as well, because her head dropped forward and the rest of their conversation was accompanied by soft snores.
    Mrs. Halston set her empty teacup on the table beside her. “I must beg your patience with Miss Mae’s outspokenness. I don’t believe she can help it.”
    “There’s no need to be concerned. I quite like her.” As Cecelia absently folded her napkin in her lap, an unexpected twinge of homesickness hit her. She missed Priscilla. She even missed Aunt Mirabella and her brother. Suddenly subdued, she set her napkin to the side and rose. “I very much enjoyed the afternoon, but I should be leaving. Please let Miss Mae know how much I enjoyed myself and that once our charges have settled down, I’ll bring them to meet both of you.”
    “We would be honored, my lady.”
    Cecelia had just reached the door when she heard Miss Mae’s voice. “My dear.”
    She turned to see the elderly woman looking very much awake.