Page 15 of The Lady Who Said No to the Duke

‘H ow would you like us to go about the next stages, my lady?’ Baggott the coachman asked at seven the next morning. He stood respectfully by her breakfast table in the parlour, hat and whip in hand.

‘Are you wishful to break the journey at, say, Baldock, ma’am?

The White Horse is a good inn, I can recommend it as being very respectable for a lady.

If that is what you’d like, then we can take it easy all the way.

Or, if the weather holds and there are no problems on the road, then we can make it to London tonight.

But it’s near eighty miles and a long day for you. ’

‘It will be an even longer one for you, Baggott. I can’t ask you to drive all that way.’

‘Oh, Jim and the lad will spell me, my lady. They’re both good, safe drivers, never fear. If the weather turns against us, then we can always stop somewhere else.’

‘Then try to do it in the day, please. But I am relying upon you to stop as soon as you are all feeling tired—or before that if necessary!’

The prospect of two more days on the road, with her father waiting fuming at the end of it, was not at all enticing. Best to get it over with. She was tired of uncertainty and muddled feelings and a vague sense of dread.

* * *

The autumn weather was kind to them. It was grey and overcast with threatening clouds, but no rain fell.

As they passed through the valley of the River Ivel, the horses splashed through floods and Jim the groom leaned down to call through the window that they should put their feet on the seat in case water came in, but they passed through safely and reached the White Horse in Baldock to take a snatched midday meal.

Thea saw the shabby black carriage pass them and stop outside a smaller inn further along the street.

‘Well, I’ll be b— Er…blowed, my lady,’ Baggott said. ‘That’s—that’s Mr Forrest driving.’

‘Giving his men a rest,’ Thea said, secretly impressed that Hal drove a four-in-hand with such skill. ‘Does he know we are intending to do the journey in the day?’

‘Yes, my lady. His man came over to ask me this morning. Good hands, he’s got.’ He slapped his hat back on his head and strode off to the stable yard muttering something that sounded like, ‘Only to be expected.’ Which made no sense to Thea.

She shrugged and hastened to finish her chicken soup and rolls so they could be on their way as soon as the men had refreshed themselves.

* * *

The church clocks were striking eight as Lady Holme’s carriage finally drew to a halt in front of the house on Chesterfield Street and Jim jumped down to ply the knocker.

The door opened to reveal Drage, directing two footmen to take the baggage, and he came down to help Thea descend instead of sending a footman, a great condescension on the part of a butler who normally would only stir himself for the Countess herself.

She turned to thank Baggott and the grooms, who were being directed to the mews, and the familiar battered carriage came past at a walk.

All she could see of the occupant was one hand resting on the edges of the open window, a glint of gold as the light from the torchieres touched the old signet that Hal wore on his left hand, the engraving so rubbed it was impossible to read.

Then it was past and the driver whipped the horses up so it rattled away, around the corner into Curzon Street and out of sight.

Thea put back her shoulders, fixed a smile on her lips and greeted Drage and the footmen. ‘Good evening. It is good to be home. This is Jennie, who has been taking care of me. She will be staying for a few nights. Please find her a nice room to herself.’

Then there was no putting it off any longer. Chin up, she sailed through the front door and turned into the drawing room.

They were both waiting for her, Mama on the sofa, her father with one foot on the fender. Of course, Mama and Papa would never cause a scene in the hall in front of the servants.

Thea closed the door behind her and dropped a curtsey. ‘Mama, Papa. Good evening.’ Her stomach felt as though an entire nest of ants had taken up residence there, but she managed a smile.

‘Thea.’ Mama at least produced a thin smile in return.

Her father merely frowned at her, then pronounced, ‘Dinner will be served very shortly. We will discuss this business tomorrow.’

No. Deal with this now or be powerless for ever.

‘There is no need, Papa. I am sorry I upset and worried you both,’ Thea said. ‘My time with Godmama has given me the opportunity to think about things more calmly. I will do as you say and receive the Duke of Leamington when he calls.’

Not that I am promising to accept him, even if he continues to offer for me after I have had my say.

She waited, doing her best to appear obedient and dutiful. It appeared to be effective because Mama was looking faintly surprised and relieved and her father’s frown had disappeared.

‘ Hrumph . ’ He was trying to look forbidding still, but the deep grooves between his brows had vanished. ‘I am glad to see that you have come to your senses and realised your good fortune, my girl. Now go and change. Your brothers are joining us for dinner tonight.’

‘All of them?’ Piers was seventeen, Clarence fifteen, Basil ten and Ernest six. Normally only Piers was permitted—or instructed—to eat his dinner with his parents.

‘Certainly not,’ Mama said. ‘Piers and Clarence, of course.’

Thea bobbed another curtsey on the principle that one could never overdo respectful behaviour and made her escape.

Upstairs she found Jennie confronted by Maunday.

‘I am Lady Thea’s maid.’

‘You? A chit from the country?’

Normally Thea was looked after by one of the maids, cowering under the eye of Maunday and too nervous to utter a word.

‘Certainly,’ Thea said, entering the room and making an instant decision. ‘Jennie has been most efficient. I am hoping she will stay on as my lady’s maid but, of course, she must make up her own mind about that.’

Jennie’s eyes widened with surprise and she stared at Thea, open-mouthed.

Clearly her words had simply been defiance in the face of Maunday’s sneers.

Then she confirmed Thea’s good opinion of her by composing her expression and saying politely, ‘Thank you, my lady. I am very pleased to accept the position.’

‘There you are, Maunday, no need for you to trouble yourself. Thank you for offering your assistance.’ Thea stood away from the door in clear invitation for the woman to leave.

‘My lady,’ she said stiffly and swept out.

‘She will be on her way to tell Mama that I have employed a maid without permission, but never fear, when she sees how well you do my hair you will be allowed to remain. If you are sure, that is. Won’t you be homesick? And I suppose I should ask Lady Holme before poaching her staff.’

‘She said I could stay if you asked me, my lady,’ Jennie said. ‘Her ladyship knows I have ambitions to be a lady’s maid. Which gown would you like? I have ordered bathwater to be brought up immediately.’

Thea suppressed a smile. It seemed she had unleashed a formidable presence on the servants’ hall.

‘Excellent. There is a dark green gown with lighter green ribbons that should be in the press in the dressing room. What is your last name, Jennie? Now you are the third most important female member of staff, you must have that dignity.’

‘I am?’ Jennie stopped halfway to the dressing room door.

‘The housekeeper, Mrs Holt, then Mama’s maid, Maunday, and then you. We have a male chef, so there’s no cook in the hierarchy.’

‘Blimey. I mean, goodness. It’s Eames, my lady.’

‘Very well, Eames. And you need not call me my lady with every sentence, you know.’

‘Yes, my lady. Thank you, my lady.’ Jennie, now Eames, beamed at her and retreated to the dressing room.

* * *

Nothing the slightest bit troubling was discussed at dinner, naturally, even though there were no guests.

Over soup, Papa spoke with some feeling about the latest problems in the government, and both his sons managed to assume expressions of interest and concern. Piers even asked a sensible question.

Thea, being female, was not expected to have an opinion on political matters.

As they consumed the fish course—a Dover sole in a cream sauce with capers—Mama held the floor with the latest Court news.

The King’s health was giving cause for concern, which it always was now, not least to anxious mamas with daughters whose Season would be blighted if they had to go into full mourning for the monarch.

As for the Prince Regent, Mama confined her remarks to the intelligence that architect John Nash was starting work on the Marine Pavilion in Brighton.

‘One shudders to think what His Royal Highness will demand,’ she said.

‘His taste becomes even more extreme with each passing year.’

Over the main course, Piers and then Clarence gave summaries of their day—heavily edited, Thea was certain, and then, with dessert, it was her turn.

‘Godmama is much improved in health,’ she said, mindful that her brothers would not have been told about the real reason for her journey.

‘She sends her best wishes. Although I was not there for long, I did have the opportunity to view Lord Brownlow’s new Italian garden and orangery.

The building is handsome, although incomplete, but I found the garden somewhat formal. ’

That provoked a lecture on the necessity to keep one’s estate up to date with the latest innovations and trends by Papa, which left Clarence glassy-eyed with boredom.

Piers, with surprising tact, enquired whether Papa was considering such an innovation at Wiverbrook Hall and Thea was able to consume her Chantilly cream with almond wafers in peace.

When Mama rose to leave the men of the family to their port Thea followed her out, expecting to face a battery of questions about Lady Holme. Instead, she was interrogated about her new maid.

‘Maunday says she is some untrained country girl. Where on earth did you pick her up? And why?’