Page 23 of Miss Davis and the Architect (Dazzling Debutantes #4)
"If adventures will not befall a young lady in her own village, she must seek them abroad."
Jane Austen
* * *
NOVEMBER 1820
T he Thompson carriage passed through the gates of Chatternwell House, starting up the long, tree-lined avenue bedecked with the colors of autumn.
Barclay folded up his designs for one of his current commissions, putting them away. Across from him, Jane scribbled with a pencil in her notebook. The duke had introduced her to a writer friend of his, Lord John Pettigrew. She was now compiling her first volume of poetry and regularly corresponded with Pettigrew, who was mentoring her.
But to his unapologetic satisfaction, Barclay was the first to hear any new poetry she composed. She was, after all, his bride.
Tatiana raised her head from the book she was buried in, noting that they were arriving at their destination. His daughter was learning some basic Russian, along with Jane, in preparation for a trip they planned the following year to St. Petersburg. It was high time Tatiana was reacquainted with her Russian relations, whom they had not visited since she was a babe.
The three of them conversed in Russian each evening over their supper, and he was pleased with her progress. Tatiana had an excellent ear for pronunciation, and her maternal grandfather would be pleased because he spoke only a smattering of broken English.
Now that Barclay’s daughter had rejoined him on his journeys around England, he schooled her once more. Jane gave her lessons in the mornings, but he was able to frequently take Tatiana to his building sites to educate her on architecture and art.
Jane closed her notebook. “Remind me where we are?”
“Chatternwell in Wiltshire. We are quite close to the town of Bath, which is northwest of here.”
“How exciting! I have passed through Wiltshire but never visited.”
Barclay smiled. He was pleased with how much Jane and Tatiana loved to travel with him to see new places and meet new people. It was far more pleasurable to travel with his family than the solitary existence he had lived after Natalya had departed. He had commissioned a second carriage for when their family grew, and Tsar was in discussion with Sir John Soane to hire gifted new architects from the Royal Academy to reduce Barclay’s travel in future periods when Jane could not travel.
“I suspect Richard has a hidden agenda for this visit. However, the building commission itself is genuine.”
Jane peered out the carriage window at the passing trees. “I wonder if it has something to do with his quest to make amends.”
Barclay frowned. He had forgotten all about the strange conversation in the billiard room months earlier when Lord Trafford had mentioned something to that effect. There had been so much occurring at the time that it had slipped his mind to question his brother about the oblique comment.
“Amends?”
The carriage drew to a halt in front of a small Tudor manor, and once again the subject was forgotten when the footman came to the door to lower the steps. As they descended, Barclay’s new clerk of work joined them.
Marcus was an erudite young man who had a tendency to become queasy in carriages, so he preferred to ride with the coachman. This suited Barclay fine because he could spend the time alone with his family.
The front doors opened, and Richard came bounding out to join them. “Barclay, Jane! And little Tatiana! Welcome to Chatternwell House.” The earl swung his arms out to gesture at the building behind him.
Barclay looked up at the facade, assessing the age and condition before heading over to the front doors to crane his head back and forth to assess the walls, examining them with his hands. Marcus joined him, a flaxen curl falling into his eyes, which he flicked back with a slender hand. They debated what they thought while Richard conversed with Jane and Tatiana, lifting the little girl off her feet in an effusive embrace.
Barclay and Marcus entered the manor without invitation to inspect the building and foundations, all else forgotten as they explored while Marcus took notes.
A couple of hours later, Barclay found Richard drinking tea with Jane in a clean but worn drawing room. The room was drab, with old furnishings and faded drapes. Barclay imagined what it would look like with a lighter color palette and rich fabrics hanging in the windows, his professional eye engaged.
Jane smiled at his arrival. “Barclay, there you are. Tatiana went to take a nap after we arrived, so she is in her room upstairs. Have you had a chance to freshen up?”
He shook his head. Walking over, he lifted her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles. “I wanted to find you first. I ran off so abruptly.”
She laughed, looking beautiful in the afternoon light bathing the room. “I am not offended. Richard was telling me about a local modiste who is holding an event tomorrow to celebrate the opening of her new shop.”
Barclay took a seat, noticing that the earl was tugging at his cravat. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. He had long since noted that Richard fiddled with his knot when he was nervous. There is more to this visit than the condition of Chatternwell House.
An hour later, he cornered Richard in the manor library. “There is more to this visit than you have disclosed.”
Richard’s hand rose to loosen his cravat, confirming Barclay’s accusation. “It is deuced awkward to speak to … you … about this particular matter.”
Barclay cocked his head in question.
“Because of your history. Of what our father did to … your mother.”
Remaining silent, Barclay waited.
“Very well. I used to be a glib scoundrel. A rogue. Earlier this year, I realized the error of my ways. As a result, I sought the women from my past whom I had wronged … the ones I felt I had seduced into doing things beyond their experience. I needed to rectify any damage I may have done. It was how I learned of Ethan, which led me to search out any brothers or sisters whom our father had abandoned to their fate.”
“I see. I suppose I had an inkling, considering I am aware of Ethan.”
Richard broke eye contact to stare at his boots, his legs stretched out in front of him despite the agitated movement of his hands while he explained. “I have made amends to all the women I felt culpable for. One of the young women has a situation that is more complex, so I am here to fulfill part of my obligations.”
“The countess is aware, I assume, considering it was her idea that I come to Chatternwell?”
“Sophia is aware of everything. She wanted to accompany me, but given her condition, it seemed unnecessarily trying for her to make the journey. Then, too, she is chaperoning Isabelle.”
Barclay nodded. Their family had grown even larger when the earl had recently uncovered a young sister living in Saunton, whom he was now hosting. “Why is this situation complex?”
Richard jumped to his feet, walking over to the window to stare sightlessly into the gardens. “Are you aware I was once betrothed to Annabel?”
“The duchess?” Barclay exclaimed.
“Caroline Brown was a maid in her father’s home whom I … spent time with.”
“During the betrothal?”
The earl flushed, his ears reddened, and he did not deny Barclay’s assumption. “Mrs. Brown was to receive a loan from Annabel, from her pin money once we were wed, to buy a shop … which obviously went by the boards when the duchess caught us together.”
Barclay choked, coughing as he sat up suddenly to soothe his throat. Fortunately, he had not been standing at this news, for he might have fallen over with the shock of it.
“And the duchess tolerates you after catching you together?”
Richard blew a sharp breath. “Not at first. She eventually forgave my behavior once she heard of the amends I had made—to Mrs. Brown included. Which is why you are here. Tomorrow Mrs. Brown is holding an event to celebrate the shop I loaned her the funds for, and I am to show my support to help launch her new business. During our house party, the duke advised I needed to attend in the role of a family man lest I raise suspicion regarding our former liaisons. I must be seen as a patron rather than a former paramour to protect Mrs. Brown from scandal.”
“And is she … a paramour?” Barclay hated to ask, but he needed to know the character of the woman before he exposed his wife and daughter to what might be an unsavory element.
Richard exhaled. “The young woman was rather innocent when I knew her, so I would say she is a good woman who made a mistake by dallying with the wrong man. She deserves the assistance, and the duke accompanied me to Chatternwell to make the arrangements during the house party but was not available to return at this time. Instead of accepting charity, Mrs. Brown merely requested that I lend her the funds that Annabel would have done.”
“Hmm …” Barclay considered his options. “I would plant you a facer, but you have already borne the consequences of your misdeeds to correct the situation, so …” Barclay raked a hand through his hair before reaching a decision. “Jane and Tatiana will each be delighted to order a new gown. They have both recently complained that they needed a wardrobe more suitable for traveling, and we shall be here for a few days, so there should be sufficient time.”
“I shall pay for the gowns.”
“That is unnecessary.”
“It is a gift. And I can escort them to the fittings while you assess the manor.”
Barclay realized this was important to his brother, who had brought him together with his charming new bride. Richard had also brought Aurora and the duchess together, to his mother’s eternal happiness. So he relented.
“Agreed.”
* * *
Jane entered Mrs. Brown’s Elegant Millinery and Dress Rooms on Market Street. She and Tatiana were excited to see a display of gloves and scarves by the window, set out on walnut countertops.
Bolts of fabric were fitted into neat cubbies painted in ivory, alongside drawers that soared up the walls to the ceiling. An explosion of colorful silks, velvets, cottons, and tulle could be seen in the morning light. Jane’s eyes settled on the corner cabinet, marveling over an exquisite gown displayed within the walnut framework.
This was a very fine shop, and Jane was eager to leaf through fashion plates to find the newest carriage dresses.
The proprietress was elegantly attired in a day gown of rich mulberry, which offset her wheat-colored hair and hazel eyes. Mrs. Brown left two older women to examine the silks, walked over to greet the earl, and sank into a deep curtsy.
“My lord, I am honored to receive you.”
Richard gave a small bow of acknowledgment. “Mrs. Brown, I would like to present Mr. Barclay Thompson.” The earl had informed them during the drive to the shop that Mrs. Brown was yet unmarried but had earned the honorific when she was promoted to the role of housekeeper in a doctor’s household the year before and had retained it to open her shop.
Barclay bowed, tall and dapper in his new burgundy coat and buckskins, greeting the young woman. “A pleasure, Mrs. Brown,” he said in that low, husky voice that still sent shivers of delight skimming along the surface of Jane’s skin.
The earl then turned to Jane, who held Tatiana by the hand. “Mrs. Thompson, Miss Tatiana, may I present Mrs. Brown? She is the owner of this fine establishment.”
The young woman turned and curtsied once more to her and Tatiana.
Jane thrilled—she was still to grow accustomed to being introduced as Mrs. Thompson, but she loved the sound of it each time. She was married to Barclay Thompson, renowned architect, and she was pursuing her writing as Emma had recommended. They traveled together, seeing England, and she spent time with Tatiana, who was a child with intelligent thoughts and aspirations.
Beaming at the woman, Jane complimented her on the fine establishment and informed her that she and Tatiana were there to order carriage dresses. Our first time ordering clothes together!
Mrs. Brown cheerfully bid them join her at a counter to view fashion plates. Jane was soon impressed with the shop owner’s overall demeanor and knowledge of fashion this far from Town. The modiste had just returned from London and clearly made a study of the latest periodicals on the subject. Jane admired the courage Mrs. Brown must possess to be running a business as a unwed woman in a new town.
Barclay and the earl wandered the shop, stopping to chat with the other patrons who were agog to be amidst such a noble visitation. Jane paid no mind, pointing to a velvet creation depicted on one of the plates. Mrs. Brown agreed it would be quite becoming and suggested a deep blue swath with a short, thick pile she had on a nearby shelf. Jane concurred and was delighted she would visit the shop for a fitting. Browsing fashion plates were a pastime for Jane, who had sewn many gowns for herself; she enjoyed conversing with someone who had pursued a trade in it. The shop was a cave of treasures for the modiste residing in her heart.
Once Tatiana went to be measured, Jane turned to find Barclay gazing out the window at the quaint buildings clustered on the street, including a post office across the road. He cut a dashing figure in his buckskins and burgundy coat, his Hessians shining with fresh polish.
“It is a beautiful town,” she said as she wove her arm through his.
Barclay turned his head, his warm eyes tracing over her face with affection. “Not as beautiful as you, my love.”
Glancing about to ensure no one was paying them mind, Jane reached up to buss Barclay on the cheek, causing him to grin and pull her closer against his body with the arm she clung to. Leaning in, he whispered into her ear, “I am going to kiss every drop of strawberry water the moment I get you alone.”
Jane grinned in response. “There is a small hothouse at Chatternwell House, so I took the liberty of picking the strawberries.”
His only reply was a slight curving of his lips, his eyes vivid with interest.
Jane sighed in sheer happiness, leaning her head on his shoulder and scarcely able to believe that she was living the perfect life that Emma had suggested just months ago. She loved visiting towns such as this one with Barclay and seeing all their realm had to offer. But more than that, she loved traveling with him and Tatiana and wanted every young lady to find their perfect partner, including the pretty Mrs. Brown.
The modiste was obviously excited about her new shop, but she had an air of reserve about her that spoke to a possible mistrust of people. It made Jane’s poetic heart ache on the woman’s behalf, wishing she could share the happiness that Jane, Barclay, and Tatiana had found together.
“Are you looking forward to the holidays?” The low timbre of Barclay’s voice caressed down her neck, interrupting her musings. Jane beamed, nodding.
She could not wait for all their families to unite at Saunton Park for a festive house party in a matter of weeks. Aurora and Tsar would journey with them to Somerset. Emma and Perry had confirmed their attendance, and the Davises would be coming too, which meant Tatiana would have an opportunity to spend time with little Maddie.
It promised to be a joyous holiday season shared with many loved ones and her first as a married woman with a family of her own. “It is going to be a wonderful Christmas.”
* * *
Learn if spending Christmas in Chatternwell can lead Caroline Brown to her own true love when she nurses William Jackson, the injured blacksmith from down the street, in Mrs. Brown and the Christmas Gift .