Page 16 of Marie’s Merry Gentleman (The Bookshop Belles #2)

CHAPTER 15

Mrs Ellwood Reveals All

M arie sat dumbfounded in her chair, not sure what to do. Renwick had stormed out and she thought she’d heard the front door open and close. She should not be here when he returned; she needed to make herself scarce.

She quickly ran to her room to avoid having to see him again this night. What a fool she’d been to push him for the truth about those darling boys. It wasn’t her place to ask such personal questions. The answers had shocked her and from his reaction, he’d possibly shocked himself at revealing them.

It was clear he’d kept the truth bottled up for years; perhaps she was the first person he’d ever told. And the boys didn’t even know! Her heart ached for them after Renwick’s utterly shocking revelations.

She quickly dressed for bed, trying hard not to put weight on her bad foot. A little while later she heard his voice in the hall speaking to Mr Martin before his heavy tread went up the stairs.

Her ankle was beginning to throb, but it wasn’t the pain keeping her awake, it was her guilty conscience. She could not believe she’d pushed him so far. She’d thought he was being cruel to those lovely boys, when all long he’d been protecting them. She lay staring at the ceiling, unable to stop thinking about the agony on his face as he’d revealed the shocking extent of his wife and father’s perfidy. And that he’d had to explain things so much before they made sense in her head. But who could ever have imagined that anyone would do something so dreadful? She could not even imagine what he must have felt, seeing his wife and his father… Marie shuddered. She could not begin to guess.

With so many thoughts colliding in her head, sleep was far away, and eventually she sat up and took her knitting into the great hall to try and work using the light of the Yule log fire. It was hard to concentrate and she missed a stitch. The boys would love their presents, but not if they were shoddily made. She stayed for a while, stitching and getting more rows of knitting onto the scarf. Her eyes were dry as she blinked, and her head and heart ached.

Taking herself back to bed, she tried again to sleep, her ankle aching again from dashing about from room to room.

All this time, she’d thought his demeanour was of a man wracked with grief over his beautiful dead wife. She could not have been further from the reality that the memories of his wife and father had eaten away at his soul. That his late wife had named the heir after Sebastian’s father and herself was proof enough of this. No wonder he struggled to say the child’s name! Every time he looked at the boy would remind him of his wife’s disloyalty and betrayal. George’s colouring was so much closer to his mother’s than Sebastian’s or even the old lord for that matter.

Marie moved into her wheeled chair, unable to sleep anyway and needing to raise her ankle on the wonderful design. She had Sebastian to thank for this ingenious invention, and she’d repaid that kindness by goading him until he’d had to relive the most painful episode of his life.

This new knowledge explained so much, but wanting to know more continued to eat away at her.

She did not get a wink of sleep all night.

When the housekeeper arrived with her breakfast tray, Marie took her chance.

“Mrs Elwood, please tell me about the last countess.”

The housekeeper pressed her lips together in annoyance and huffed a little as she set the tray down on the table.

“There’s little to say,” she said, as she fussed about and plumped Marie’s pillows as if giving herself a meaningless task to fill the time.

“Please? I have upset his lordship and I need to make amends.”

“Upset him?” Mrs Ellwood’s hands stilled, and then she set the pillows down. “How?”

“I mentioned the late countess,” she left out the rest of it, on the off-chance Mrs Ellwood was not privy to the details. She probably knew much more than she ever let on, because she’d remained at Alston while the terrible events had been taking place. “He stormed off. I know I said the wrong thing, and I want to make amends, but I don’t know much about her.” It was the closest Marie had come to telling a straight up lie, having left out so much pertinent information.

Mrs Ellwood clasped her hands together in front of her apron and said, “It’s not good to speak ill of the dead. Ring the bell if you need anything further.”

She made to leave Marie’s room, but Marie shuffled herself backwards and blocked the open doorway. The housekeeper could, of course, leave via the music room, but she pressed her lips together again and sighed with resignation.

“What have you heard?”

“Rather a great deal,” Marie said, heat warming her cheeks. “A shocking story that explains so much.”

“And may I ask who you heard this scandal from? Morag knows better than to spread stories she might have heard whisper of.”

“It wasn’t Morag.” Marie shook her head. She’d made a huge mess of things, and could no longer lie to the woman who’d been so kind to her from the moment she’d arrived. “It was Lord Renwick himself. I … I confess I challenged him on how he was letting his grief for his late wife affect his treatment of the boys, George especially.”

“You challenged him?” Mrs Ellwood’s brows rose high on her forehead in astonishment.

Marie let out a long sigh of resignation. “I did, and I realise now my utter mistake. I had noticed, over the past few weeks, that he is aloof with George more than Richard, and I pushed him until he told me why.”

“Well then,” Mrs Ellwood looked around for something else to do and decided to pour tea. As if she needed to keep herself busy at all times. “You know everything then?”

That was the problem, she still really didn’t. She wanted to help Renwick and the boys, but she didn’t want to make the situation worse by saying the wrong thing and upset them. Well, upset Renwick any more, because she’d upset him a great deal last night. If she’d known more of the details, she would never have pressed Renwick the way she had. She would have left well enough alone. “I know some of it, but by my understanding you’ve been here since before the wedding. He may have left for London but you were still here… with his father and the countess.” She hesitated before adding a final, pointed word. “ Together .”

Mrs Ellwood sighed, and then she sat in the chair at the table and helped herself to Marie’s tea, as if to fortify herself.

“What his lordship said is true. I’ve kept this to myself as it wasn’t my tale to tell. There were rumours and suspicions from the very beginning, but I ignored it as gossip. You know how staff entertain themselves sometimes. I imagined many of them must have been bored so they made up wild stories to pass the time in this lonely spot. I didn’t want to believe it was true, but…” she sighed as she unburdened herself. “The poor boys, they never knew any of this and they are such sweet things. And they still don’t. I helped raise the wee things because I felt it best to keep them out of the way so they wouldn’t hear any gossip.”

Mary nudged herself closer so they could keep their voices low.

The sweet lady sighed again and said, “That girl. I knew she was no good from the moment she came here, making eyes at his lordship. He should have married her himself, but he was hellbent on Lord Sebastian doing it, more fool him!”

“That would have seemed to be the best solution,” Marie agreed, wondering why the old earl hadn’t done just that.

“She was a hussy, that one.” Warming to her topic, Mrs Ellwood thinned her lips at the sour memories. “They were carrying on long before the wedding - Lord Sebastian shouldn’t have married her, but who would dare tell him? We kept it quiet, for his current lordship’s sake, but in doing that, they got away with it. After Lord Sebastian left for London when he’d found out what they’d been up to, well, the earl and Francesca figured there was no point hiding it any more. They virtually lived as man and wife in the castle here and it was all I could do to bite my tongue. They would hold hands at the breakfast table and not keep a respectable distance in the library. They shared a bedroom! The way he looked at her, they didn’t hide it. Truth be told, I was glad to see the back of the old lord, and then her when she went. I’ll probably burn in hell for saying such a thing about my betters, but that’s how it is.”

And Marie had stumbled right into that emotional patch of nettles and dragged Renwick in with her. “I think I could use some tea,” she said.

“I’ll get you another cup,” Mrs Ellwood said, getting up.

“No, please, I’m happy to use the same one. Best get this out before we’re interrupted.”

Mrs Ellwood poured more tea and added some milk and handed the cup and saucer over. Then she finished her tale.

“The old earl died when the boys were only three. I thought the new lord would come home then, but he still wouldn’t. He was so hurt, he stayed in London rather than come home to the babes so he didn’t have to see his wife. Even though he never really liked the city. I wrote asking him to come home for the boys’ sake, but he said he couldn’t face her, and who could blame him? He stayed in that stinkin’ city for years instead.”

Marie took her glasses off and set them on the table, then rubbed the top of her nose as she tried to absorb the terrible truth. Poor Renwick. Those poor boys. Thank the good Lord they didn’t know.

Mrs Ellwood continued, “When the countess died, well, Lord Renwick came home and did his best, but… the boys were old enough to stay at school and not come home until the summer. Apparently Eton boys mostly don’t come home for Christmastide, which sounds pretty cruel to me. Ever since his lordship returned, he makes sure to bring them home to make up for the Christmases they missed. But young George, he has his mother’s eyes and … I’m not surprised his lordship struggles to say the boy’s name, because it’s his father’s name.”

A gasp at the doorway had them both spinning around in horror, to discover who had overheard them.

There stood Richard and George, faces ashen with shock.

Marie wanted to cast up her tea immediately. She swallowed and tried to pretend all was well. “Boys, what a lovely surprise!” Her heart raced and her pulse thumped in her ears. How much had they heard? How long had they been standing there?

‘No, it’s not!” George almost shouted, walking into the room.

Richard followed him.

Marie’s stomach roiled at the discovery, feeling utterly dreadful and responsible for more pain. The boys should never have heard them. Why hadn’t she been more careful? Why hadn’t she shut the blasted door?

Mrs Ellwood sighed deeply, “It’s not good to listen in to others' conversation, no good ever comes of it.”

“I heard enough,” George said. His small jaw was clenched with fury, and he had never looked more like Renwick. “Tell me the rest.”

Marie swallowed, her mouth dry. “I’m not sure what -”

“Tell me!” George thumped his fist on their table. His aim was poor and the thump so hard, he knocked her glasses off the table and onto the floor.

Marie was sure she’d heard something crack, possibly a bone in George’s hand.

“George, you’ve hurt yourself, we’ll get some snow and help it heal.”

Richard came over to help his brother and look at his sore hand. “What did you mean when you said George was named after his father? Our father’s name is Sebastian!”

“They said more than that,” George said, and Marie realised to her horror that George must have arrived at her door before Richard, and had heard perhaps something about his mother…

Marie was going to be sick. Of all the foolish things, urging Mrs Ellwood to reveal all without making sure they couldn’t be overheard was the dumbest, stupidest thing she could ever…

CRUNCH!

The boys froze in position.

“What was that?” Mrs Ellwood said as she shook her head in confusion.

Brain filled with the fog of stress, Marie didn’t know what had made the noise.

Richard and George stepped back, and Richard looked to the ground. “Oh dear.”

They took another step back, then both of them bolted for the door and ran off, getting as far away from them as possible.

When Mrs Ellwood rose from her chair, she cleared the view for Marie.

One of the boys had stepped on her glasses, which now lay smashed on the floor.

Marie buried her face in her hands. “This has gone so badly!”

“Miss Baxter, we have bigger problems than your glasses.” The housekeeper ran to the doorway to see if anyone else was nearby. Then she dashed back. “I think the coast is clear.” Then she started packing the uneaten breakfast onto the tray. Her hands shook so much the teacup rattled on the saucer. “The staff who knew, well, they knew, but we all promised to say naught. And now the boys know anyway and I’ll get the blame. This is bad. This is very bad.”

“I will make sure to keep your name out of it,” she said. Marie herself was in a panic, but the housekeeper was fluttering about like a trapped pigeon.

“They’ll cast me out with no reference!” Mrs Ellwood cried, giving in to her emotions.

“No they won’t,” Marie assured her. “I will take the blame. This is my fault. I’m not merely saying that. This really is my fault. I’ve ruined everything.”

Her own last words drummed a tattoo in her head.

I’ve ruined everything.

I’ve ruined everything .