Page 4 of Escape of the Scoundrel (Escape #1)

T he post chaise deposited the Cole family at the front door of Grand Court in the late morning. It was an impressively large, gracious house with a Grecian portico and dizzying rows of windows, mostly with closed curtains.

“Fine ladies rise late,” Lily noted.

“But it’s nearly eleven,” Alex objected, pushing open the carriage door and dropping the step. “Someone should be up.”

Someone was. A liveried footman made his stately way down the front steps, instructing the postilion where to take the carriage in order to be paid and find refreshment. Which was the first weight off Harriet’s mind.

“Thank you,” she said to the footman, trying not to sound too relieved. “Please inform Lady Grandison that Miss Cole is here. I’m afraid I foolishly forgot my cards.”

This lie was lost in the footman’s appalled stare as he took in their meagre, tattered baggage, the number of children and mended patches on their clothes, and finally, Harriet’s poor hat and the old fashioned, mended gown beneath the thin travelling cloak that was too short for her.

Harriet tilted her chin. “Now, if you please. We shall wait indoors.”

The haughty footman might have objected had she not already started walking briskly up the steps to the front door, the children at her heels. Of course, the servant would not shout.

“Her ladyship is not yet abroad,” the footman declared breathlessly as he entered the hall with their bags. Obviously, he thought what he had to say justified the solecism of bringing baggage in by the front entrance. “What’s more, she’s entertaining a large party of friends.”

“From her bed?” Orchid asked with genuine interest.

Alex and Rose snorted with laughter.

At which point a much more severe figure appeared, bowing expressionlessly.

“Miss Cole,” the footman blurted to this august personage with a bizarre mixture of misery and outrage that made Harriet want to giggle. “Asking for her ladyship.”

“Miss Cole,” the butler repeated thoughtfully.

Harriet met his gaze. “Miss Harriet Cole. These are my sisters and my cousin.”

“Of course. Welcome to Grand Court. Perhaps you would care to await her ladyship in the small salon.”

Having pointed the footman to the back of the hall with the luggage, the butler led Harriet and the children to a small but ornate room on the left of the front door. Harriet suspected this was where problem callers were put, those whom the Grandisons might not turn away but whom they wished not to intrude on other guests. At the same time, the butler had seemed to recognize her name...

“It’s a pity we’re not used to visiting here,” Lily observed. There was a worrying, slightly hectic flush to her cheeks that Harriet didn’t like. Lily needed to be in bed and dosed with feverfew. “Lady Grandison always came to us.”

“Always used to,” Harriet murmured. Her ladyship had last descended upon them more than three years ago, in the wake of their mother’s sudden death. She had written, of course...

A flurry of quick footsteps approached in company with an expensive rustling of silk, and Lady Grandison swept into the room in a positive haze of perfume and gauze. She still favoured a vast array of the lightest, most exquisite shawls that enfolded her like a cloud as she advanced upon Harriet.

“My dear, what an unexpected pleasure!” she exclaimed, embracing Harriet. “I could not believe it when Mitchell told me you were here. All of you! Lily, my pet, you are growing so beautiful! Rose, so tall! Orchid? Goodness, I would never have known you! And Alex, too, quite the young gentleman.”

They were all embraced in turn. Even Orchid, who understood the importance of the event, refrained from grimacing or wriggling.

“Sit down while you tell me all!” Lady Grandison said, beaming, and flapping her hands towards the various chairs, which looked too spindly to be sat on. “Did you write to me Harriet? For if you did, I have been most horribly remiss and forgotten! You see, I am in the midst of this party, and there has been so much correspondence and such activity...”

“Oh dear,” Harriet said uneasily. “Your footman did say you had guests, but I thought he was just trying to be rid of us more easily. I suppose we are quite a bag full of rags.”

Lady Grandison seemed to take in their appearance for the first time as she sat down and looked around them all with growing unease.

“Well, no one wears their best to travel any distance,” she excused them, then brightened again. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of simply inviting you to the party! I had quite forgotten you were grown up, Harriet—you must be more than, what, seventeen?”

“I am nineteen, ma’am.”

A guilty, almost hunted look entered her ladyship’s expression. “Oh dear. And I promised your dear mama I would sponsor your come-out. Well, it is never too late for a Season, though it will have to be next year now...”

“Oh, no, my lady,” Harriet said hastily. “A Season is quite out of the question.”

“Nonsense. I shall write to your guardian and explain that neither the bother nor the expense will touch him, and you shall come and live in London with me...”

“My lady, I cannot leave the children.”

She blinked, eyeing them doubtfully, then said heroically, “Then they must come too. With their governess, of course...”

“We don’t have a governess,” Harriet said with difficulty. “The thing is, the whole of Gorsefield Park is entailed and it all belongs to Cousin Randolph.”

“Yes, I know. It was a great concern to both your parents, which is why your good papa left you all a decent amount of money in funds and so on—”

“Which we cannot touch until we are five-and twenty,” Harriet pointed out. “That is six more years in which we have nothing at all between us.”

“No,” Lady Grandison said, still bewildered, “but Randolph has given you a continued home with him, has he not?”

“That’s the problem,” Rose burst out. “He is awful .”

Lady Grandison looked startled.

“He is,” Harriet agreed. “No letters ever come to us anymore, and I have become convinced he never sends the ones we write. For example, how many letters have you received from me in the last year?”

Lady Grandison frowned. “Just the one informing me of your father’s death, and I could not come to you for Amelia was lying in and then...”

“I wrote at least eight,” Harriet said.

“Eight! I must have sent three or so, but when you did not reply...”

“You see?” Rose said triumphantly. “He is evil .”

“Oh, my dear, that is a little harsh! One must not...”

“He is certainly unpleasant,” Harriet said. “And...and joyless , and he is using us increasingly as servants. It has made Lily ill and that is unforgivable. To be frank, we have been little more than prisoners. Believe me, our escape to you had to be well-planned. What we came to ask of your ladyship is, first of all, secrecy.”

“Secrecy?” she repeated.

“Hide us from Randolph,” Harriet said bluntly. “Just for a few weeks. I have applied for a position as governess to a respectable family in Berkshire and I’m afraid I gave them your address. I—er... also rely on your ladyship for a character.”

Lady Grandison closed her gaping mouth, swallowed, and said faintly, “But what of the younger ones, my dear?”

“I shall pay for them to go to school,” Harriet said.

“From your salary,” Lady Grandison said slowly, “as a governess.”

Harriet smiled upon her. “It is a clever plan, is it not? I don’t quite like that Alex would be on his own while he is still so young, but the girls would all be able to look after each other, and if you wouldn’t very much mind having them for holidays sometimes when I cannot get leave of absence...?”

She broke off as two footmen entered with trays full of lemonade and tea, bread and butter, scones and biscuits. The children’s eyes lit up. Harriet rather thought her godmother was relieved not to have to think for a few minutes. She was the best natured of creatures, which was why Harriet had dared to impose upon her, but she had the distinct feeling now that Lady Grandison did not approve of her plan at all.

“We cannot go back to Cousin Randolph,” she said firmly, as soon as the door was closed behind the servants, just to nip that possibility in the bud.

“No, no, dear, I quite see that,” her ladyship murmured. “I was never so shocked in my life. I must say I am surprised at your papa—always such a sensible man—for naming such a creature as your guardian.”

“I suppose it made sense to him since Randolph would inherit Gorsefield Park anyway.”

“He is a relatively young man, is he not? I suppose he cannot have liked to be saddled with so many children...”

“Then why did he not send them to school?” Harriet said. “As it is, their education, such as it is, has been up to me.”

Lady Grandison nodded slowly. She appeared to be deep in thought, a process that did not come naturally to her. Finally, as Alex reached for a third scone, she nodded with decision.

“I shall consult with Sir John on the best way forward. For now, of course you must all stay as my honoured guests.”

“What if Randolph comes here?” Orchid asked uneasily.

Lady Grandison smiled. “My dear! Sir John and I are quite capable of dealing with Randolph. Now, the question is, how to deal with you?” She looked them all over once more. “You really are a bag full of rags, aren’t you? We must change that as quickly as possible, especially for you, Harriet, if you are to join in the party.”

“I would much rather be useful to you, ma’am.”

“But you will be. Mitchell tells me I have another unexpected guest, so without you, my numbers are all upset. Now, what ails poor Lily?”

In no time, Lily was ensconced in one of the comfortable beds in what was to be Harriet’s room, a pretty apartment that had lately belonged to Lady Grandison’s daughter Amelia. Propped up on pillows and sipping willow bark tea, Lily watched as wide-eyed as the others as two maids paraded past her ladyship with a vast array of gowns, hats, shawls, pelisses, reticules, boots, outdoor shoes, and slippers.

In household matters, Lady Grandison could clearly focus on several things at once, which might have been difficult for others to follow, but did not appear to trouble her ladyship.

“The emerald green for certain, Nesbit. I’m afraid I must put you younger ones in the nursery, since there is so little room elsewhere, though I think you are quite right, Harriet, that Lily should stay with you until she is quite well again. Ah, the white silk we can do something with. I had better assign Mildred to the nursery and winkle poor Nurse out of retirement. You must be kind to Nurse, children, though she will sleep most of the day, but mind Mildred, for she is... Definitely the printed muslin, Nesbit, delightful for sunny afternoons and such suitable colours for you, Harriet dear. It never suited Amelia above half... Easy going but eminently sensible. Alex can have the small room on the left, and the two girls could share the bigger room on the right. The dark blue riding habit, definitely. Bring pins, Millie. We shall go up directly...”

Orchid giggled, which set off the others, including Harriet and Lady Grandison. Even the maids had begun to smile when the bedchamber door opened and Sir John Grandison looked in.

“Eliza?” he said, clearly startled to find the room so full of people and activity. “What...?”

“Oh, come in Sir John, quickly. It is most exciting. Hetty Cole’s daughters have come to stay. You do remember Harriet, my goddaughter? Poor Lily is unwell, and here are Rose and Orchid, whom you must have met before, and Alexander, who is their cousin. Freddie Cole took him in when his sister died, if you recall.”

“Perfectly,” Sir John said, beaming amiably. “Very happy you could come, though Eliza forgot to tell me.”

“No, I didn’t dear, but it has worked out for the best for our numbers were wrong now that Sanderly has turned up after all, and Harriet will make things right again—”

“Sanderly?” Harriet blurted before her godmother had finished her sentence. “The Earl of Sanderly is here?”

Lady Grandison looked uneasy. “Well, so Mitchell tells me, and he is never wrong. I believe he came to see Lady Barbara, who is his sister, so she must have persuaded him to stay. You needn’t believe everything you hear about him, however. It is largely gossip.”

“Which would have died down already if he didn’t go out of his way to be unpleasant,” Sir John said with more incomprehension than disapproval.

“He is always perfectly polite to me,” Lady Grandison argued.

“Oh, and to everyone, but always with an edge .”

“To be sure, he is given to sarcasm, which is not the pleasantest form of humour, but he can be terribly funny. John, you had best go away for Harriet must have at least one morning gown ready for luncheon.”

“Of course she must,” Sir John said, raising his hand to the children. “Welcome all! I’m just going down to breakfast.”

“After eleven?” Orchid said in astonishment. “It’s almost time for luncheon!”

“Which is why we must have Harriet’s first gown fitted and resewn tout de suite !”

For Harriet, stupidly, the amusing idea of dressing up in Amelia’s old clothes had suddenly taken on a new importance.

She wanted to thank the earl in person for the use of his room last night, but in a way that did not allude to his shocking behaviour. On no account must he even suspect that she remembered that insolent kiss, although she did, vividly, and with a confusing array of emotions that made her want to either slap him or hide. She was certain he would not have so insulted her had he known she was Lady Grandison’s gently born goddaughter. And she hoped, by more stylish dress, to show him his mistake and inspire at least an apology if not a genuine regret.

Only she didn’t like that either. A man who would so treat a friendless girl of no account in the world but apologise to a lady with important friends was really rather despicable. It was all rather confusing, and she didn’t want to think about it anymore. In any case, she would be regal, gracious, and polite and then he would be sorry...

As Nesbit, Lady Grandison’s personal maid, began to experiment with her hair, another thought struck her. She had not told anyone about her previous meeting with Lord Sanderly, for obvious reasons, but if he betrayed that he knew her, her silence would seem very odd.

I think too much. I shall merely be cool and polite and he will follow my lead. I may thank him in a mere moment when I get the chance, and that will be that.

The re-sewn dress was thrown over her freshly coiffured head, and Rose said in amazement, “Goodness, Harry, you look beautiful!”

Harriet laughed. Personal appearance had never mattered greatly to her—which was fortunate—but the new gown certainly improved her, and the complex hair arrangement fitted with the regal air she wished to convey.

Orchid, however, was scowling. “You don’t look like you anymore.”

“Then you are all far too used to quite unsuitable rags,” Lady Grandison said roundly. “Honestly, I am surprised Randolph Cole was not ashamed to let you be seen!”

“We rarely were,” Rose murmured. “Come on, Orchid, let’s go and find Alex and the nursery.”

“Mildred will bring you luncheon,” Lady Grandison called after them, “and show you where you may play. Now, my dear, you will do splendidly, will she not, Lily?”

But Lily had fallen asleep and did not reply.

Harriet went to the bed and touched her sister’s blessedly cool forehead before drawing the coverlet higher over her arms.

“She worries me,” she confessed.

“Sleep is the best thing for her,” Lady Grandison said comfortably. “She will be right as rain by tomorrow. And if she isn’t, we shall summon Dr. Bagshott.” She linked arms with Harriet, drawing her out of the room and along the passage to the stairs. “We have a delightfully full house, already, with just a couple more gentlemen due today. Luncheon is an informal meal and not everyone will attend, so it is a good time to begin to meet your fellow guests. Afterward, if the weather is still fine, we might play pall-mall on the lawn.”

“Oh, the children will love that!”

Lady Grandison cast her a look. “Not for the children—at least not today. Perhaps tomorrow morning, or during excursions... I know you find it odd, but in Polite Society, people don’t care to be bothered with children. Of course, they may play elsewhere in the garden at any time...”

“My lady, I am not criticizing,” Harriet said hastily. “How could I? You have already been kindness itself when we have inflicted ourselves upon you most inconveniently in the midst of your party! I am just not used to such affairs and will probably say the wrong thing and embarrass you horribly.”

“Nonsense, you have always been a charming, unaffected girl, and my guests will adore you. Luncheon is served in the garden room, just an informal buffet for a few people.”

When they went downstairs together, the buzz and babble emanating from the garden room warned Harriet that her definition of “a few” was unlikely to be the same as her godmother’s. And indeed, when the footman opened the door, a sea of people swam before her eyes.

Just for a second, the old memory flooded her with panic and she imagined them closing in on her, depriving her of safety and even breath...