Too Hot For A Rake (9 page)

Amy opened the door. “It’s a sitting room, milady.”

Helena opened another door on the opposite side of the room. “Here’s another chamber. It’s in worse condition than this room, but it’s large and it does have a bed. Would it do for you, do you think? Mrs. Trasker is threatening to house you in the attic with her other maids.”

Amy peeked over her mistress’ shoulder. “Better here than in the attic with that lot! Seems like they don’t do a lick of work.” She began to open the large trunk.

“Don’t unpack just yet. Help me get rid of the dust and the cobwebs first.”

As they worked side by side, Helena chatted aloud, telling her how kind the Traskers were in their warm welcome to her. She whispered orders while Amy played along, delighted to be included in the game of deception.

“Where shall I put these, milady?” she said in as loud a voice as she could manage. Then she added, “May I set your toiletries on this here er…dressing table?”

They worked first in the bedchamber wiping grime and dust away with the worn sheets they had stripped from the bed. Helena had brought her own linens, the ones she had used at the various inns whose chambers she’d occupied. Amy would use only these to make up the bed for her mistress. They put the stale water in the pitcher to good use, cleaning the windows and mopping the floor. Helena helped Amy replace the mattress after they had beaten the dust out of it on the small balcony, its doors flung open to the fresh air.

A knock on the door interrupted their work. Amy opened it to admit Lord Waverley, who put a finger to his lips. He entered the room, shut the door behind him and surveyed the scene.

“Appalling! My father’s quarters are no better,” he said in a whisper. In a louder voice he asked, “Care to join me for a stroll in the garden, ma’am? I expect you need a long walk after being confined in a coach for so long.”

“I’d be delighted.”

Amy shooed them out, her head bobbing in approval for once. They descended the grand staircase as if in no particular hurry. The marquis knew his way well. He led her into the library and through the doors that opened onto the terrace. They strolled down the steps into the garden, stopping only when they were well out of earshot.

“What a shock it must be to you to find Waverley Castle in such a poor state.”

He grasped her arms, a look of despair on his face. “That’s the least of my worries.”

“What’s wrong?”

“My grandmother is running a high fever. I fear for her life.”

“It may well be influenza. Who is taking care of her? Does she have a nurse?”

“I saw no signs of one. She’s living in squalor. My own grandmother! Her gown is stained with food, her sheets are soiled and the chamber itself hasn’t been cleaned in an age. I left Rabu to clean up and stand guard over her while I decide what’s to be done.”

Helena said, “That was wise. You must send Casper and Amy to Sennen Cove at once.”

“What can they do?”

“Amy’s mother and her uncle own Ship Inn. They will know of a reliable physician. You must write a note describing your grandmother’s condition and add your calling card. A local doctor will come at once. Request a nurse as well. I’ll fetch Amy and tell her what needs to be done. When you’ve written your letter, bring it round to the front door. By then, the coach will be waiting.” Helena paused and whipped her head around.

“What is it?”

“I thought I heard a noise. Someone may be listening.”

Waverley’s eyes searched. “No one’s here. May have been a rabbit or some other animal.”

Hidden behind a clump of trees, Harry Trasker stood frozen in place until Helena and Waverley were well out of sight. Then he hurried to his mother’s chambers. “Game’s up, Ma. Better hightail it out o’ here ’afore that swell puts the magistrate on us.”

“Keep your tongue between your teeth, Harry. The marquis can’t do a thing to us. We got rights. We’re Banningtons, ain’t we? ’Sides, he won’t raise a fuss. Swells like him are always be worritin’ about what other swells think of ’em. We ain’t done yet, m’boy. Not by a long shot,” said Mrs. Trasker. She took another swig of gin from the bottle in her hand. “Best you get word to My Lord. He’ll tell us what we need do.”

Her son beamed at her. “Yer a right one, Ma. Allus has an answer. What d’ya want me to tell My Lord?”

“Nothing. I’ll write a letter for you to deliver to him.”

The marquis led Helena into the kitchen once Casper and Amy had departed for Sennen Cove. Cook Wells looked up in annoyance at the interruption, but the look on her face turned to joy when she recognized the marquis. “Milord! Welcome home. Let me have a look at you. A mite taller, but still devilish handsome as ever.” Cook Wells wiped her hands on her apron and curtseyed, her green eyes alive with gladness. “D’ye recollec’ me, milord? Course, I was only a scullery maid when you was a lad.”

Desmond lifted her flour-stained hand to his lips. “Of course I do. How could I forget the pretty lass who used to sneak warm cookies out of the pastry room for me? This is Lady Fairchild. She’s visiting.”

“Pleased to meet you, milady.”

“She’s come to visit my grandmother. I don’t mind telling you that I’m worried about her. I’ve sent Amy to town for the doctor.”

“That’s good, milord! Mrs. Trasker wouldn’t let me fetch him when I begged her. I’ve been in such a worry ever since them Traskers came here six months after the old marquis passed, may his soul rest in peace. Milady felt fine then, though a bit t’other side of memory, if you take my meaning. Here her la’ship took ’em in from the kindness of her heart and look how they repay her.”

Waverley won Cook’s heart when he said, “How good of you to remain in her service. She might have fared worse if you had left her.” She blushed at the compliment.

While they spoke, Helena surveyed the large, immaculate kitchen, the only part of the castle she had seen that was in decent order. She was near to fainting from hunger, for it was late. “What smells so delicious, Cook?” she asked, interrupting them.

Waverley grinned, for he was famished as well. “Well, Cook? Will you take pity on two starving souls?”

Cook Wells grinned. “Seems like old times, milord. I recollec’ you was always hungry as a lad. Still the same, eh?” She indicated the large table where the servants took their meals. “Wish I could serve you in the dining room, but it an’t fit for a pig, thanks to the Traskers. Sit you both down at the servants’ table and I’ll fetch you some fresh-baked bread and home-churned butter. That’ll set you to rights while I prepare you a proper dinner.”

Cook proceeded to serve them a fragrant creamed mushroom soup, some cold meat, piping hot tea and warm apple pie topped with a slice of cheddar cheese. Waverley asked for second helpings, to Cook’s delight. He was amused to see Helena, usually a picky eater, devouring her food with zest. When she had finished her last bit of pie, she groaned in contentment, to the delight of both Cook and the marquis.

“I’ve never seen you eat so much, ma’am,” said Waverley, his eyes teasing.

“Does my heart good to see you both enjoy my vittles. Later, I’ll serve you both some…”

Helena and the marquis laughed, for they were full to bursting. “No, no, Cook. Don’t trouble yourself. I can’t swallow another morsel tonight,” Helena said kindly.

“Speak for yourself, ma’am. I, for one…”

“Now don’t be scoldin’ the lady, milord. I won’t starve you whatever the time, to be sure.”

Waverley’s laughing face turned serious. “Where are all the servants? My father always kept a large staff.”

“The Traskers sacked most of them and hired on the worst bunch of lazy scoundrels I ever did see. They like to eat well, so they agreed to keep my two nieces to help me in the kitchen when I threatened to give notice, which I assure you, but for my dear marchioness, I was sore tempted to do. Mrs. Trasker set herself up as housekeeper and that tub o’ lard Harry as bailiff. There are just a few lazy new hires that are supposed to do all the work. They do nothin’ at all. Won’t take orders from anyone but them Traskers.” She shook her head in disgust.

“What about my grandmother? Has she no say in the matter?”

“She’s forgetful, poor soul. Mayhap they convinced her it was her own idea. If those two had their way, she’d be dead. I prepare food for her every day and sneak it up to her, ’cause they won’t let Emma or Trudy serve her.” She hesitated.

“Something else on your mind? You can speak freely, Cook,” urged Waverley.

“They didn’t expect your return, milord. They set it about that you was dead. Drowned at sea, they said. Truth be known, I thought so, too. That Mrs. Trasker’s always braggin’ how her son Harry’s the next marquis. Where have you been all these years, if you don’t mind my askin’, milord?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m back now, and I shan’t leave again, I promise you that.”

Helena asked, “Are there no gardeners, Cook? The grounds have been terribly neglected.”

“Them Traskers fired the lot of ’em. Saving the dowager money, they claim. Pocketing her blunt for themselves, more like. There’s lots of grumbling from the tenants who farm your land, let me tell you. Trasker collects the rents, promises ’em repairs, then don’t make ’em like he should. The stable’s a mess too, milord. There are only two stable boys, the laziest, meanest do-nothings I ever did see.”

“Rest assured I mean to set things right,” Waverley said. He glanced at Helena, who was having trouble keeping her eyes open. “But for this evening, Lady Fairchild must have a hot bath and a decent night’s sleep. We’ll sort out what’s to be done in the morning.”

At once, Cook rang a bell and two young maids appeared, both dressed in immaculate uniforms. “Fetch some hot water and clean cloths for my lady’s bath. She’s in the chamber opposite her ladyship.” She turned to Helena and Waverley and added, “This is Emma and this is Trudy, my sister’s daughters.”

“The Traskers may have some sense after all. They love your cooking as much as we do,” Waverley said. The twinkle in his eyes brought an appreciative laugh from Cook.

“Stuff it, Casper! I’ve had enough of your smart mouth!”

“Come now, Amy lass. What’s wrong with a fine lad like me escortin’ a lovely miss into the village? They’ll be talkin’ for days about you havin’ snared the handsomest London coachman they ever did see.”

“You? Handsome? Don’t make me laugh. Your ugly face couldn’t catch an old blind woman.”

“Don’t want any old blind woman. Just you, lass. Just you.”

Amy was keen on having the last word. “Without me you wouldn’t find your way around these parts.”

“I can find my way anywhere, my girl. Besides, you need a strong man like me to protect you. Wouldn’t be proper to let you wander about alone.”

“I’m not alone here. This is my home.”

When they reached Ship Inn, Amy said, “I’ll thank you to make yourself scarce while I’m visitin’ me kin.”

“Don’t be forgettin’ we need a doctor for the marchioness, lass. I’ll wait in the taproom.” Casper sauntered away, rendering Amy speechless, a rare event.

“Amy!” her mother shrieked as she emerged from the kitchen with a full plate in her hand. “Let me serve the gentleman over there and then give us a hug.”

“Welcome home, Amy me darlin’.” Her uncle Tom’s beefy arms wrapped themselves around her.

“Hullo, Uncle Tom.” She kissed his cheek just as her mother returned and snatched her from him.

“I need your help right quick, Mum. The old marchioness is real sick. I’ve come with milady’s driver Casper. We’ve been sent to fetch a doctor and bring him back as soon as may be. Can you help?”

“Don’t you worry, lass. I’ll rouse Doctor Fenwick and bring him right back here.” Her mother removed her apron.

“Ask if he knows of a nurse willin’ to come back with us tonight to take care of the poor old woman.”

“Right. Mrs. Hubley lives a few doors away from the doctor. I’ll fetch her as well.”

Helena lounged in her hot bath and surveyed her chamber with appreciation. In her absence, Amy had performed a miracle, though the furnishings remained threadbare. She had scrubbed the room and made the bed with her mistress’ clean linens.

Her thoughts turned to the marquis. She tried to examine the feelings he evoked whenever he touched her as he had done that first disastrous night when she’d mistaken him for Darlington. More to the point, why did her knees threaten to give way whenever he was near? Why did she melt at the sight of him? Why had no man come close to causing her heart to bump against her ribs as he did? Chris had never set her on fire. Not the way Waverley did. Was he indeed a rake? A rake would have seduced her by now. Wasn’t that what rakes did to the women who succumbed to their charms?

The tantalizing thought made her breath hitch. She wondered if there was something wrong with her. Did other women ponder such illicit thoughts? She found no answers, but the questions swam around in her head like a school of fish.

Odd. There were so many sides to the marquis. Rake though he may be, he was also a loving grandson. He yearned to right the wrongs wrought by those odious Traskers. He had his work cut out for him. Of that, she had no doubt.

When exhaustion overcame her, she stepped out of the tub, dried herself, and donned her nightgown. One of Cook’s nieces had lit the fire, which made the room comfortable. She climbed into bed, pleased to feel the heat of a hot brick at her feet. She fell asleep hugging her pillow as though she held the marquis in her arms.

Monday, the Thirteenth of April, 1818

“A letter for you, my lord.”

“My Lord” looked up from his desk and took the letter from the silver tray. He read the few sentences and frowned. “Pack my bags and order my carriage. I leave for the coast in one hour.”

“Mornin’, milady. Sleep well?” Amy drew the curtains aside to let sunlight into the room.

Helena stretched, feeling well rested indeed. “What time is it, dear?”

“It’s past ten, milady. I’ve brought you your chocolate and a fresh scone.” She plumped up the pillows behind Helena’s head.

“Did you locate a doctor?” Helena asked anxiously, recalling the events of the previous night.

“Doctor Fenwick’s been and gone, milady. He’ll be back to look in on the marchioness later today. We’ve a fine nurse for her ladyship, too. Mrs. Hubley’s her name.”

Helena took a sip of chocolate. “What did the doctor say is wrong with the poor dear?”

“I don’t know, milady, but his lordship knows. He spoke to him for a long time after the examination. His lordship has asked that you join him in the library. Wants to tell you what the doctor said.”

“Then help me dress.” She handed Amy her cup, threw off her covers and stepped off the bed. Twenty minutes later, she went down to the first floor, knocked on the door to the library and entered. She glanced around her at the book-lined walls, a long library table in the middle of the room and a decent fire lit in the enormous fireplace. The only dour note were the threadbare velvet curtains drawn open at the doors to the terrace.

The marquis looked up from his desk and smiled. “Morning, Helena. Not in the best of condition, is it? It will have to do for the time being. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you. What did the doctor have to report?”

“Shall we take a stroll in the garden?”

“Yes,” she said, understanding at once the need for privacy.

“Those bloody fools have been making my grandmother ill. She has influenza, a serious condition in a woman her age,” he said as soon as they had walked far enough away from the castle to speak without being heard.

“Good God!”

“Her fever’s so high, she’s become delirious. Doctor Fenwick says it is often the case with a high fever. He left instructions and medication with Nurse Hubley. Amy did well, ma’am. The doctor and the nurse are fine country practitioners.”

“I’m relieved to hear it. Send the Traskers packing, Desmond. They’re up to no good.”

“I agree, but I won’t send them off just yet. There’s something smoky about them and the people they hired on. I mean to find out what their game is first.” He stopped at a stone bench and brushed the dead leaves from it. “I’m in a quandary, I don’t mind admitting. There’s so much to do, I can’t think how I may accomplish it all. I don’t even know where to begin. I dare not leave the management of the castle in the hands of Mrs. Trasker. Nor can I allow her idiotish son to continue as bailiff. According to Cook, my tenants are at their wit’s end.” He leaned forward, one elbow resting on each thigh, his head held in his hands.

Helena’s heart constricted, for she couldn’t bear to see him suffer. “You’re not alone in this, Desmond. You have a friend in me. Allow me to help.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Leave the management of the castle to me. I had the greatest teacher in the world, you know. I’ve been learning her methods since I was a schoolroom miss. I’m speaking of my mother, the kind martinet of Fairchild House in London, the gracious admiral of Heatham House in Brighton and the even-tempered doyenne of Bodmin Castle in Cornwall. She directs all three with such easy competence, one would never guess that the Duchess of Heatham has a master plan. I hasten to add that every one of the servants in her employ deems it a privilege to serve her.”

Waverley let out a bark of laughter. “Ought we to go to the source and engage your mother to accomplish this impossible task?”

“I wouldn’t mind if you did, for I miss her terribly. But first, you would have to duel my father to the death. He would never agree to part with his precious treasure.”

“Ugh! A horrid thought.”

“While I lack the years of experience my mother possesses, I believe I can accomplish the task for you. Will you allow me to try?”

“What role must I play to help you in this daunting task?”

“Merely inform Mrs. Trasker that she is to take her orders from me from this day forward. I warn you it will be costly, for I mean to hire an army of willing servants. Do you have sufficient funds?”

“More than ample. Spend what you like to achieve your purpose.”

“Good! Then it’s settled. You shall deal with estate matters while I deal with the staff.” They rose as one. “Here’s my hand on it.”

A wicked gleam lit his eyes. “If we’re to be partners in this endeavor, let us begin on an equal footing.” He took her in his arms. “We shall seal our agreement with a kiss.” His lips found hers, and when he deepened the kiss, she did nothing to stop him.

London

The duke looked up when his wife entered the library. “Afternoon, my dear.” The look of concern in her eyes was enough to alarm him. “Something amiss?”

“It’s Mary, dearest. Mrs. Trumball came to see me again this morning. She informs me our daughter plagues her with musical questions she is not capable of answering. She’s taught her everything she can. She hasn’t the talent that’s needed for a student with Mary’s extraordinary abilities, you see.”

“Are you suggesting we need a new governess? Mrs. Trumball has been with us since Livy was an infant.”

“No such thing, Tony. Mrs. Trumball is devoted to us. Our children adore her and she loves them as if they were her own. It’s precisely why she urges us to find a better piano tutor for Mary. She says that Mary is too gifted musically, well beyond what she herself is able to provide in the way of instruction. You promised to seek a solution. Have you found one yet?”

The duke rose from his desk and led his wife to a window seat. He put his arm around her. “I haven’t forgotten, love. It has merely taken me longer than I supposed. My man of business has made inquiries at the Royal Philharmonic Society on Bond Street. They have assured him that they can provide excellent candidates for hire. I’ve given him leave to select someone appropriate for our musical genius and present him to Mary, but first you must approve his choice. He is planning to bring a prospective teacher for you to meet this afternoon.”