The Widow's Christmas Surprise Page 6

  “Come here.” He opened his arms and she fled to them, her tears drenching his shirt once more. “Shhh. Don’t think about it. We will weather this.” He stared over her head at their brother. Pray God they could weather it if the worst came to pass.

  “Bella. Look at me.”

  She tilted her head back and raised her eyebrows.

  “When did you last eat?”

  “I’m not hungry, Hugh.” She shrugged away from him.

  “You need to eat all the same. If you wish to stay with Kit, you will need to keep your strength up.” He was heartened to see the familiar stubborn frown appear on his sister’s face. “We can take turns sitting with him, and when we cannot, I’ll have one of the footmen here. I promise you, he won’t be alone for a moment.”

  “Oh, very well.” She pulled the shawl up over her shoulders. “Come dine with me?”

  “Presently. I’ll send to Cook to have dinner ready in an hour. Go change and I will meet you in the dining room.”

  With a look back at Kit, she squeezed Hugh’s hand and left.

  Hugh strode quickly to the chamber always kept for him in the house. He went directly to the writing table on which always sat a decanter and glasses. With a less than steady hand, he poured a good two-thirds of a tumbler and gulped it down. The long, slow burn of the brandy steadied him and his mind began to tick off what had to be done.

  Send for Mr. Preston. Hugh needed to know every possible detail about his brother’s injury and what they could expect and when.

  Write to the family solicitor and apprise him of his brother’s condition. Had Kit made a will? If not, what did that mean for Hugh and Bella? It was always best to know as much as possible in order to prepare for every eventuality.

  And he must write to Lady Kersey, informing her that he would not be returning to Kersey Hall. The thought gave him a twinge of pain, for he’d have liked to have seen the lady once more. Not that anything would have come of his growing regard for her. Still, he regretted losing that tenuous connection he’d experienced with her in the garden this afternoon. God, had it just been this afternoon?

  He took another sip of the spirits as his conscience smote him. What would she do now without a steward? If the heir continued to be elusive, she might tarry at Kersey Hall for a year or more. She’d need someone who could carry on the work of the primary estate as well as oversee the other properties that belonged to the earldom. Could he abandon her so completely without a backward glance?

  Perhaps he could arrange to help her hire someone to replace him. Yes, that would be best. He could ride to the Hall for a day or two to help interview prospective stewards. Between Bella and the servants Kit would be well taken care of and if he did succumb to his wounds, Hugh would only be an hour or two away. If he died . . .

  Hugh set his empty glass on the desk and scrubbed at his face with both hands. What was he thinking? If Kit died and the local magistrate did not rule his death due to “melancholy” or “lunacy,” he and Bella would be turned out of The Grange with nothing and no place to go. No, Hugh must keep his position at Kersey Hall at all costs. It provided a house and a salary that, with strict budgeting, could supply all their needs. And he would not have to burden Lady Kersey with the task of finding his replacement. He drew a deep breath and some of the gloom that had swirled around his head lifted.

  He would need to beg a leave of absence only, in order to set all the affairs here in order. When he took up residence at Kersey again, Bella could come with him, although he understood there would be a disagreement with that on her part. But given time, he could sort it all out. Even having settled that much in his mind lightened his spirits considerably.

  And if the idea that he would still be able to see Lady Kersey engendered a large part of that rise to his spirits, he needn’t admit that to anyone. Especially not to himself.

  Chapter Five

  Late November 1817

  Wringing her hands, Maria sat tensely beside Jane on the soft leather seat of the carriage as it made its way slowly past dead grass and sodden leaves toward Kersey Hall, dread of the long-awaited meeting with the new Lord Kersey filling her heart.

  A fortnight ago, Mr. Clarke had written her that his senior clerk had finally located and authenticated the claim to the earldom. A Mr. William Garrett, a gentleman owning substantial land in America, had been discovered, via birth records tracing the lineage back to a younger brother of Alan’s great-grandfather, to be the late Lord Kersey’s heir.

  The month of November had thus begun extremely badly, for Mr. Clarke’s letter had come just upon the heels of the dreadful announcement of the death of Princess Charlotte of Wales in childbed. Maria had resumed her black mourning clothes and wept for two days, partly for the loss of the princess, who was everyone’s darling, but partly because her own future was now to be decided by an absolute stranger and she was as helpless in one tragedy as in the other.

  A wave of superstitious fear had consumed her and she’d written hasty letters to her friends, formerly of The Widows’ Club—Charlotte, Elizabeth, and Fanny—to assure herself of their continued health after the births of their children in July. Jane had told her she was being foolish, but Maria could not throw off the unsettling feeling of impending doom and had sent the letters anyway. All had replied with glowing reports of the health of themselves and their children and had kindly asked after her own. Still, the feeling of alarm had continued to press upon her until now she trembled as if the carriage took her toward a gallows.

  “Stop fidgeting, my dear. I tell you, it will be all right.” Jane patted Maria’s hands, then cringed as the wind whipped the rain against the glass pane, beating at it in blustery gusts. “I cannot imagine that Lord Kersey will dismiss you out of hand. Surely he will take your circumstances into consideration.” She turned back to Maria. “The fact that you have already removed to the dower house amply demonstrates your willingness to be both reasonable and practical.”

  Upon receipt of Mr. Clarke’s letter, Maria had made the bold choice of moving her small household to the newly refurbished dower house. She, Jane, the baby, her lady’s maid, an undercook and a footman, hastily elevated to cook and butler, had settled into Francis House, named for the first Dowager Countess Kersey’s family, with amazingly little fuss. Some intuition had told Maria she should not be in residence when Lord and Lady Kersey took possession of the estate. Therefore, last week she and Jane had solemnly watched the stream of carts and carriages conveying the new earl’s belongings along the main road to the house from the cozy drawing room that faced the driveway. And yesterday she’d received an invitation to tea at Kersey Hall, expected perhaps, but daunting still.

  “But are people really swayed by such things, Jane?” When money was involved they often seemed to care about little else. “From what I have gathered from my inquiries to Mr. Clarke and Mr. Granger, Lord Kersey is under no obligation to offer me anything.”

  Jane’s brows rose to an alarming height. “You wrote to Mr. Granger?”

  “I did.” Maria sat back on the sofa, raising her chin defiantly at her cousin. “I have been in contact with him regarding the running of the estate ever since he left. You knew that. And once Mr. Clarke told me the heir had been found, I of course passed this information along to Mr. Granger as well.” She cast her gaze down to her hands clenched in her lap. “And I might have asked his advice as to whether he knew if I was in any way entitled to live at the dower house.”

  “But you know you do not have a right to it unless the current lord agrees.”

  “Yes, I know that, but it hurt nothing to inquire. Mr. Granger knows practically everything about the Kersey estate.” Maria risked a glance at Jane and regretted it instantly. Her cousin had narrowed her eyes and now glared at her through the slitted lids. “I thought he might have known of some family tradition that would make it a precedent.”

  “I see.”

  Hopefully, Jane did not see. Maria had relished the correspondence s
he’d been able to exchange with the steward these last six weeks. His brother had continued to linger, still unable to either succumb to or recover from his wound. Mr. Granger had promised that as soon as the new earl arrived, he would make arrangements for his brother’s care and return to Kersey Hall. That promise had become Maria’s one shining hope in the fog of despair she often found herself in these days. With Lord Kersey’s appearance here today, she could at least look forward to Mr. Granger’s arrival in the very near future.

  Why she should do so, she refused to dwell upon. Their encounter at the fountain, the last day Mr. Granger had been in residence, was seared into her memory. That touch of his hand . . . She refused to think of it now, although she’d done so often in the dark nights since his departure. A foolish thing perhaps. But perhaps not.

  “We are here.” Jane’s voice brought Maria out of her reverie regarding Mr. Granger. Shaking off the longing she couldn’t quite deny, Maria looked out at the familiar entrance to the house that had until recently been her home.

  As the carriage slowed to a halt, Maria drew in a deep breath and looked at Jane. “Are you ready?”

  Her cousin nodded. “Are you?”

  “I had better be.”

  Two footmen with umbrellas scurried to convey them to the house. Maria greeted Chambers, who smiled and bowed. “Lady Kersey, Lady John. I’m so pleased to see you again, ladies. The family is gathered in the drawing room.”

  “Thank you, Chambers.” Maria smiled at the butler and they started down the corridor toward the staircase. “Have Lord and Lady Kersey had any trouble settling into the house?”

  “There was a bit of confusion about which rooms were to be designated for which of their two sons, my lady. The heir, Lord Wetherby, wished to be placed in the chamber that overlooks the garden, although I informed his lordship that the heir has, in past generations, been housed in the chamber closest to the master’s suite of rooms.” The elderly servant shook his head as they approached the top of the stairs. “That room, as you know, overlooks the woods.”

  “And did Lord Kersey instruct his son to follow the tradition?” Jane cut her eyes at Maria, who smothered a smile.

  “No, my lady, he did not.” The disapproval in Chambers’s voice rang loud and clear. “His lordship said he didn’t care which room Lord Wetherby chose, he must come to an accord with his younger brother as to how the rooms would be apportioned.” The butler’s countenance stiffened. “After that pronouncement there ensued quite a row between Lord Wetherby and his brother over possession of the green room.”

  Jane leaned over to whisper in Maria’s ear. “It sounds as if the new earl has two rather unruly children. One can only hope they will be sent off to school post haste.”

  Maria smothered a giggle, then sobered as they approached the drawing room. Arranging her face into serene lines with a pleasant smile on her lips, she took a deep breath and walked confidently into the room.

  The sea of unfamiliar faces froze Maria just inside the room. She’d been expecting only Lord and Lady Kersey, but here were three additional gentlemen she did not . . . She sucked in a breath as her gaze met that of the third gentleman—the deep, brilliant blue of Mr. Granger’s eyes.

  The pressure of Jane’s hand on her arm propelled her farther into the room, her befuddled mind unable to register anything other than Mr. Granger’s presence and the wild thought that he was more handsome than before he’d left. But what was he doing here? Of course, she’d written him about Lord Kersey’s appearance, but somehow she’d believed he’d let her know that he had returned to Kersey Hall. Then she wouldn’t have been so shocked to see him.

  Mr. Granger stepped forward, a warm smile on his lips. “Lady Kersey, Lady John, so nice to see you once more.” He bowed, then turned to the imposing silver-haired gentleman and willowy lady just behind him. “Lady Kersey, Lord Kersey, may I introduce Maria, the Dowager Lady Kersey and her cousin, Lady John Tarkington?”

  Startled anew to be called the dowager countess, Maria dipped a curtsey then raised her face to meet the new owners of Kersey Hall. Lord Kersey had some little resemblance to Alan, his height mostly and the almost sharp, pinched look of his nose. Otherwise, his countenance was rather pleasing, with blue eyes and a pleasant smile. His wife, too, smiled broadly as she stepped forward.

  “Lady Kersey and Lady John, the new earl and countess, Lord and Lady Kersey.” Mr. Granger bowed and stepped back, but his gaze remained on Maria’s face.

  “So lovely to meet you, my lady.” The countess curtsied, then turned to Jane. “My lady.”

  Lord Kersey stepped forward and gave a clipped bow. He still smiled at them, although it did not quite reach his eyes. “We have been looking forward to making your acquaintance for some time, ladies. Mr. Clarke has given me all the particulars of the situation with the previous Lord Kersey. May I extend our condolences to you, Lady Kersey?”

  “Thank you, my lord.” Something in the man’s intent stare made Maria uncomfortable and she dropped her gaze. “You are most kind.”

  After a short, awkward pause, Lady Kersey spoke hastily. “Lady Kersey, Lady John, may I present our sons, Anthony, Lord Wetherby, and James? They are both recently returned from our former home in Virginia.”

  Both young men smiled and bowed, the elder coming forward slightly to stand in front of Maria. “Delighted to meet you, my lady.” He smiled, showing white, even teeth, and a whiff of bergamot wafted over Maria, making her mouth dry instantly. Lord Wetherby’s cologne brought Alan instantly to mind, and suddenly highlighted the keen resemblance this young man bore to her late husband. The same curly, golden hair, same height, same deep blue eyes that assessed her with a cool admiration. A chill raced down her spine and she drew her silk shawl more firmly around her shoulders.

  “So pleased to meet you.” Thankfully, James Garrett seemed to take his looks from his mother, being somewhat shorter than his brother, with light brown hair and eyes and a short, upturned nose.

  “Thank you, Mr. Garrett.” She smiled at the young man. “I am somewhat overwhelmed meeting so many new people. I have been quite the recluse since April.”

  “How stupid of me. You must be confused with all the new faces. Please.” He indicated a seat on the sofa.

  “Thank you.” Gratefully, Maria sank onto the cushion and glanced about the room.

  Jane still stood, speaking to Lord and Lady Kersey about her late husband, Tark. Mr. Garrett had taken a chair across from her and seemed ready to make polite conversation. His brother stood over by the fireplace, taking in the whole scene with an appraising little smile on his lips. Pray God the man stayed there.

  The sofa cushion beside her dipped and she turned to find Mr. Granger seated there. A wave of warmth rose from her neck to her forehead. He was turned out well, in a suit of steel gray that was excellently cut, although she quite preferred him in his riding clothes. They gave him such a rugged, masculine air.

  Lord, she must get hold of herself. Think of the man as an acquaintance, nothing more. “I did not know you had returned, Mr. Granger. Has your brother quite recovered from his injury?”

  His lips hardened, but he spoke evenly. “I regret to say, no, my lady. My brother is much as he has been these many weeks. But with the arrival of Lord Kersey, I needed to return to this estate. I have made arrangements for my brother’s care while I am absent and will be kept apprised of his condition.” He paused, then his countenance lightened. “I have brought my sister to stay with me, however.”

  “I didn’t know you had a sister.” She actually had little knowledge of Mr. Granger’s life outside the confines of his work on the estate.

  “She is not quite out of the schoolroom yet, but under the circumstances I thought it best that she not be left at home now, even with a companion.” His blue eyes had a distant look to them. “In case the worst occurs—and I do not see how my brother can cling to life much longer—I believe it best for her to be here with me, rather than alone with him and the s
ervants.”

  “I am so sorry, Mr. Granger. Might I request the pleasure of meeting Miss Granger when it is convenient for you?” Maria glanced down at her hands, then back to him. “We are not so very far apart in years, she and I, and I have had some experience with grief.”

  The corners of his mouth rose just perceptively. “That would be an honor for her, my lady. When I have settled us into the house more completely, I will tell her of your wish to be introduced to her.”

  “Mr. Granger, what a pleasure to see you again.” Jane lowered herself into the chair opposite Maria, smiling much too broadly at the steward. Such a facial expression never boded well for the recipient of it. “Does your return mean that—”

  Maria grasped her cousin’s hand and gave a slight shake of her head. “Mr. Granger’s brother has not improved, my dear.”

  Jane immediately replaced her insincere smile with an expression of sympathy. “I am so sorry to hear that, Mr. Granger.”

  “You are very kind, Lady John.”

  Lord and Lady Kersey joined the little group. “Mr. Granger was just telling us the status of the tenant farmers.” Lord Kersey helped seat his wife on the sofa beside their son, then proceeded to stand over all of the little group, save for Lord Wetherby, who continued to stand in front of the fireplace. “The crops have come in well this year, thank goodness. The only bit of bad news being about Tate.”

  “Mr. Tate?” Maria sat up, sudden alarm bells ringing in her head. She’d been out to the farm to visit Mrs. Tate several times since Mr. Granger had told her of the father’s injury and the family’s plight. She could have sworn the man had been on the mend.

  Mr. Granger’s lips firmed. “I’m sorry to tell you, my lady, but Mr. Tate succumbed to his wound.”

  Maria’s stomach dropped, a metallic taste flooding her mouth. “No.” Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them back. She’d ridden out to check on the Tates almost every week since Mr. Granger had left. “He seemed to be doing so well.”