The Duchess Hunt (24 page)

She bounded toward Esme. When she reached
her, she reeled to a halt, clasping her hands in front of her.

“Lady Esme,” Miss Stanley said,
breathless, “we’re going to be sisters!”

Esme frowned up at her. “Sisters? Wha —”

Lady Stanley appeared at the door, huffing
a little but beaming. “Georgina has just accepted a proposal from your
brother!”

“The Duke of Trent!” Miss Stanley said, in
the event that Esme had forgotten her brother’s identity.

“Ah… oh!” Esme cast a look of wide-eyed
surprise toward Sarah.

Sarah didn’t respond in kind. She was too
busy gathering the frayed edges of her composure and wrapping them tightly
around her.

Slowly, Esme rose. Miss Stanley threw her
arms around her. “Sisters!” she repeated. “I am so happy! We have been such
good friends, and now, sisters!”

Esme cast Sarah another look, this one
rather bewildered. Sarah didn’t blame her. Esme had never thought of Miss
Stanley as a friend, much less a good one.

“Er… well. Congratulations,” Esme said
awkwardly.

Lady Stanley came forward and took over
embracing Esme after Miss Stanley finally released her. “You may call me
‘Mama,’ dear,” she told Esme.

Esme went stiff in the lady’s arms. Even
from several feet away, Sarah could see it.

But Georgina didn’t. “And you must call me
Georgina!”

Esme pulled away from the older woman.
“Oh. Well. All right.” She did not offer for either woman to call her Esme.

“How wonderful,” Sarah told the ladies.
She tried so hard to keep the stiffness out of her voice. “What lovely news.”
She gestured to the sofa. “Please do sit down. Shall I call for tea?”

“Thank you, Miss Osborne. Yes, tea would
be splendid, just splendid,” Lady Stanley said.

Woodenly, Sarah went about arranging for
tea. When she returned to her seat, Lady Stanley was saying, “… agreed to an
autumn wedding. The sooner the better, I say, and an autumn wedding in the
Cotswolds is always a lovely thing.”

“And the best part of it is that we will
be residing at Ironwood Park until the wedding takes place,” Miss Stanley said.

“Oh?” Esme asked.

Miss Stanley shrugged. “Yes. There is no
reason to stay in London now that I am engaged to be married. Plus, the air
here is so
rancid
, and Mama thinks that country
air will help me to perfect my complexion prior to the wedding.”

Sarah rather thought the young woman’s
complexion was already perfect. How could it possibly be improved?

“Why not go to your father’s home?” Esme
asked.

Miss Stanley wrinkled her nose. “We’d
planned to stay in London until August, at least, because the walls at
Hartledge are being stripped from top to bottom, repapered, and repainted.”

“Ah,” Esme said.

Lady Stanley waved her hand in front of
her face. “Paint and wallpaper do ruin good country air. I have determined the
house will not be fit for habitation until December, at least.”

“So, Trent asked you to come to Ironwood
Park instead?”

“Indeed he did. We will both be in
residence through the summer,” Lady Stanley said. “His Grace has agreed to be
present as much as possible until Parliament adjourns, and then he’ll join us
there. Permanently!” Clasping her hands together, she leaned forward. “He told
me that he shall send you home next week, to be with us and to help Georgina
learn all the ins and outs of her new home. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Oh, Esme,” Georgina said, dropping the
“lady” without Esme’s permission. “It’ll be absolutely delightful – my own
personal introduction to the environs before I take over the household.”

Sarah did not like the sound of that.

Then again, ever since she’d moved to
Ironwood Park, she’d known that this was inevitable. That one day, Simon would
marry and the duchess, who’d treated her almost as one would treat her own
child, would be displaced.

“Well. Of course,” Esme said, clearly
attempting to be polite but thrown too far out of kilter for it to sound
completely real.

“Don’t tell me you wish to remain in
London?” Lady Stanley said. “It is well known that you are quite… uncomfortable
here.” She leaned forward to pat Esme’s knee. “We are so sorry about all the
talk regarding your public awkwardness. I’m sure it’ll be such a relief for you
to get away from it all.”

Esme blanched, and fury rose in Sarah like
a flash flood. Clenching her fists in her lap, she schooled her expression to
neutrality, but inwardly, dislike of Lady Stanley boiled within her.

Miss Stanley gave a vigorous nod. “You
will certainly be more in your element at Ironwood Park.”

“I daresay I will be,” Esme said faintly.
And Sarah knew that all the tenuous confidence Esme had built in the past few
weeks had just been shattered.

The tea arrived, and the ladies drank and
chatted effusively for another fifteen minutes before bustling out of the
drawing room, saying that they had many more people to call upon to share their
wonderful news, and many, many letters to write. They promised they’d come to
see Esme again before their departure for the Cotswolds.

When they left, Esme and Sarah sat in
silence for a few minutes. Esme seemed to be composing herself as Sarah
wondered how Simon could possibly need to marry Miss Georgina Stanley to save
his family. Her original thought that Luke had compromised her didn’t seem at
all feasible.

Finally, Esme looked over at Sarah, and
they locked gazes. Esme’s lips twisted. “Well,” she mused, “Miss Stanley
wouldn’t have been my choice for my brother. But I suppose it’s not my choice
to make.”

Nor mine, Sarah thought.

“And she’s very beautiful and
accomplished. She’s just the kind of lady Mama expected him to marry.” Esme
shrugged. “Ah, well. Those ladies were right, I suppose, about me and London. I
am happy we’re leaving early, before I make a true faux pas like I did last
year and embarrass my brother again.” A sad smile tilted her lips, and her
shoulders seemed to deflate, whether in relief or defeat, Sarah could not tell.

“We’re going home, Sarah. And to be
honest, I won’t complain if I never have the opportunity to set foot in London
again.”

Chapter
Fifteen

Parliament hadn’t finished its business
until somewhat later than usual that year, so it wasn’t until the first week of
August that Simon returned to Ironwood Park without any immediate plans to
return to London.

He would remain in the country until
November, which would be a month after his marriage, when the next session of
Parliament would commence. He did not know if his wife would be returning to
London with him; many ladies preferred to remain in the country for most of the
year, and he wouldn’t complain if that was her choice.

By all appearances, Georgina had been
ecstatic to see him when he’d arrived at Ironwood Park. But Sarah, who’d always
been one of the first to greet him whenever he arrived home, was nowhere to be
found.

No doubt that was for the better. Still,
her absence bothered him. Ironwood Park simply didn’t feel like home without
Sarah.

Sam had accompanied him to the country –
he had been given a month’s holiday after his latest assignment. After his trip
to the Lake District, Mark had continued the search for their mother from
Ironwood Park, so he was already home. Theo had been home for a few weeks, too,
since the term at Cambridge had ended the first week of July.

The night Simon came home, he sat in the
parlor after dinner, surrounded by his family and the Stanleys. It should have
been pleasant but for the three marked absences. First of all, Luke was still
gone. No one had heard from him since his disappearance the night they’d
discovered Binnie, but Simon had tasked the investigator he’d engaged to search
for his mother to keep an eye on Luke as well. The man had reported that Luke
was in London, asking questions about their mother’s whereabouts on the rare
occasions he was sober, but spending more time than ever carousing.

Secondly, Simon’s mother wasn’t there.
She’d been missing for nearly four months now, with no trace, and Simon was
beginning to accept somewhere deep inside him that she was gone forever. He
knew his siblings felt the same way, that acceptance coming over them slowly
and with no small amount of grief but seemingly at the same pace as his own.

And, finally, there was Sarah. She’d never
dined with them at Ironwood Park, but as Esme’s companion, she’d taken all her
meals with them in London, and he’d quickly grown accustomed to having her
present during meals. Now, he felt her absence keenly.

Finally, when the port he was drinking
began to loosen the muscles of his shoulders that had been strained by the
hours on horseback, he turned to his sister, who was laughing at something Mark
had said, and asked casually, “Where is Miss Osborne?”

Esme’s laugh stopped abruptly. She slid a
glance at Georgina, who was sitting on the plum-colored sofa beside him, and
then returned her gaze to Simon. “She is with her father in their cottage, I
expect.”

“A quite
exceptional
girl.” Lady Stanley sipped her tea. “Why, when Georgina and I
discovered that Esme’s companion was just a housemaid, we were quite impressed.
A maid? Can you imagine? Such stature the girl possesses for one born so low.”

Simon stared at her, not trying to hide the
faint frown on his face.

“We thought it very wise of you, Trent, to
raise her to the position of lady’s companion, as Esme tells us in no uncertain
terms that there was no other reasonable choice at the time. However, now that
we are home, it is neither proper nor necessary. I told the young woman as
much, and she understood the temporary nature of her rise in status and the
necessity to reassume her prior position in this house.”

So many reactions ran through Simon in
response to this – surprise, annoyance, full-on anger – that he couldn’t speak
for a moment. He took some time to compose himself, forcing a swallow of the
port that didn’t want to go down.

“I see,” he said tightly, aware of his
siblings watching him, gauging his reaction. None of them knew the extent of
his feelings for Sarah, but they all knew he had always been fond of her. As
were they.

Lady Stanley had no authority in this
house. How dare she meddle with his staff?

Soon enough, the staff would be entirely
Georgina’s responsibility. But not now. Not yet.

Bitterness rose within him, sharp and
potent, but he would not contradict his future mother-in-law publicly. He
wasn’t one to make a spectacle, and he wasn’t going to start tonight.

“Georgina and I are Esme’s companions now,
and she has need of no other,” Lady Stanley finished with no small measure of
smugness.

“Of course you don’t,” Georgina told Esme,
her voice warm, yet there was a condescending edge to it. Simon turned to look
at her, but there was nothing but affection in her expression as she beamed at
Esme. Perhaps he had been mistaken, was inventing behaviors that didn’t exist
because his intuition told him to like or trust neither Lady Stanley, nor –
unfortunately – his future wife, though Georgina hadn’t done anything improper.
Unlike her mother.

“I suppose I do not,” Esme said quietly,
not quite meeting Georgina’s eyes. Instead she looked at him and gave him a
small smile. Was he inventing things again? Because, to him, that smile was a
sad one. A regretful one. One that told him she’d rather have Sarah as her
companion than the Stanley women.

“Did you know we all grew up with Miss
Osborne?” Mark asked Georgina and her mother.

“Oh, yes. Esme told us,” Georgina said.

“Just another example of your mother’s
eccentricity.” Lady Stanley laughed, a high-pitched noise that Simon had never
noticed before but now grated on his nerves. “The gardener’s daughter raised
and educated in the nursery of one of the greatest houses in England alongside
the offspring of a duke. Imagine that!”

Mark shook his head. “Oh, but you are
quite mistaken, my lady.”

“Oh?”

“Indeed, none of us ever went into the
nursery. It’s a dark and dusty place. Our mother chose to keep us with her most
of the time.”

“Really?”

“It is quite true,” Theo added. “Wherever
the Duchess of Trent was on any given day, that was where we would be. And our
mother despised the nursery.”

Mark grinned at Simon. “Remember the time
we all popped out of her skirts, scaring Mr. Beardsley and his wife half to
death?”

Standing at the corner of the room – Simon
wondered if his brother ever sat down except when forced – Sam nodded. “I do.
They’d come in here thinking they were calling on the duchess and that she was
alone —”

“And then… pop, pop, pop, pop, pop! The
five of us all jumped out of her skirts like jack-in-the-boxes,” Theo said.

Sam frowned at his youngest brother. “How
can you remember that? You couldn’t have been more than three.”

Theo’s grin didn’t fade. “One tends to
remember such moments in one’s life. We were all laughing so hard while Mr. and
Mrs. Beardsley looked so aghast…”

“Mama laughed so hard tears ran down her
face,” Mark said.

Simon glanced up to see Sam looking at
him, a small smile curling his lips. As the two oldest siblings, they probably
remembered that day the best, and the many other similar days they’d spent with
their mother, flustering, surprising, or simply shocking others. But even
though Sam’s memories shone in his face, Simon found it difficult to remain
engaged in this conversation.

Sarah was a housemaid again. There would
be no more fashionable silks and London ballrooms for her.

That discomfited him. No, it more than
discomfited him. It
infuriated
him.

He was glad Mark had changed the direction
of the conversation. If he hadn’t, Simon might’ve reinstated Sarah to her
position at Esme’s side.

He should do that in any case, because it
was deuced presumptuous for Lady Stanley to think she could control his
household. And it was unacceptable for her to think she could control Sarah.

Lady Stanley was smiling and laughing with
the brothers. “Oh, how I wish your dear mama were here now to laugh with all of
us. That business of her disappearance, it’s a shame, I say. An utter shame.”

They all sobered at that. Eventually, Mark
raised his glass. “That it is, my lady,” he said solemnly.

Everyone was silent for a long moment.
Then, Georgina turned to Simon and said in a very bright tone, “Well, I loved
my nursery. I shall endeavor to make the nursery at Ironwood Park a welcome
place for my children. My happiest days as a little girl were spent in my
nursery, and I believe that children are safest, happiest, and most at home in
the one place they may call their own.”

Her words stabbed a reality that he’d been
avoiding straight into his chest. She would be the mother of his children.
Someday, his and Georgina Stanley’s children would be scampering around
Ironwood Park.

Or perhaps they wouldn’t be scampering
about. Perhaps they’d be imprisoned in that attic room that his mother had told
him was a haunted, nasty place. Mother used to say that if they slept in the
nursery they would hear the children who’d once died there crying for their
mothers. It was why she’d allowed them to sleep in her room with her until they
were all old enough to keep their own bedrooms.

It didn’t matter. Their mother
had
been eccentric, and she’d liked to tell them outlandish stories as
they’d crowded around her at night. The nursery wasn’t haunted. It was a very
suitable room, and if Georgina remodeled it, it would be a perfectly acceptable
place to keep children.
Their
children.

He finished his port, managed to say
something proper, and then allowed the conversation to flow around him, all the
while feeling heavier and heavier, like he was swimming like mad to stay afloat
but had giant boulders tied to his ankles.

He’d never shirked his responsibility
before. He’d stay afloat, no matter the cost.

“I want to reinstate you to the position
of Esme’s companion.”

Sarah stood in the door of her father’s
cottage. She turned back to glance into the dusky interior. “I’ll be just a
moment, Papa.”

Her father, who’d been eating his
breakfast, gave a gruff, “all right, then,” and Sarah stepped out, closing the
planked door behind her to stand on the small stoop.

Simon looked resplendent in his riding
clothes, tall Wellingtons that had been polished to a high shine, buff
breeches, and a dark wool coat that hugged his body, showing off his broad
shoulders and trim waist. Behind him, the early morning sun sparkled on the
water drops from last night’s showers, making the hedges and trees glimmer in
various bright shades of green. She straightened her spine and looked him in the
eye. “Good morning, Your Grace. Welcome home.”

“You were not there to welcome me like you
usually are.” There was a hint of accusation in his voice.

“I am sorry. I was engaged in a task for
Lady Stanley.” The lady had decided the Stone Room was her favorite place at
Ironwood Park. She had taken to spending an hour there every afternoon to bask
in its cold grandeur. When sitting on one of the marble benches yesterday,
she’d found some smudges on the statue of the Laocoön and had tasked Sarah
with scrubbing it until the marble was a perfect uniform hue.

Marble was never perfect, nor was it
uniform, but Sarah had done the best she could, cleaning the crevices of the
carved bodies of Laocoön, his sons, and the serpent until every muscle in
her body ached.

Simon blew out a breath. Beside him, his
horse tossed its head and whickered, and he pulled gently on the reins he
gripped in his dark-gloved hand, bringing the animal to heel.

“Sarah…”

She looked down at herself, clasping her
hands in front of her. She was wearing one of the old muslins she’d brought to
London but had never worn there after the modiste had delivered her new
dresses. Today would probably be another day of heavy cleaning, and even if it
wasn’t, she wasn’t sure she could ever wear those London clothes again. Nor
would she ever have reason to.

Simon removed his hat and brought it to
his side. “I want you to be Esme’s companion.”