Page 11 of Waiting for Love (The Taverstons of Iversley #3)

W hat a bizarre Christmas Eve , Benjamin thought, still ruminating on the events of the previous night. The Taverstons never failed to amaze. How on earth had Crispin known of Georgiana’s unusual talent? Good at puzzles? An absurd understatement. Yet the only one who had not been surprised had been Reg.

At least the drama had kept the attention off him , seeing as he could not keep his where it belonged. He felt he’d spent the entire evening staring at Olivia, leaning close, captivated by the festive perfume of seasonal greenery and cinnamon that seemed to cling to her.

The weather on Christmas morning was abysmal, with sleet rather than snow. Benjamin wondered if Crispin could be stranded at Chaumbers after all. Wellington might be peeved, but it would make a nice Christmas present for Olivia. For all of the Taverstons.

Because of the cold and wet, they were taking carriages to church instead of walking the two miles into the village. The earl’s coach carried the family while Benjamin, Hannah, and Miss Jamison followed in a slightly humbler conveyance. Crispin joined them since the earl’s coach could only fit so many. Just before they started off, Alice rapped on the carriage door. A footman opened it and handed her up, bringing in the scent of lavender. She slid onto the bench beside Crispin, a determined expression on her face.

For a moment, Benjamin wondered if she was pursuing the captain. Crispin, for all his married-to-the-army status, was a well-to-do brother of an earl—and currently Jasper’s heir. Alice’s launch into Society had thus far been disappointing, from what Benjamin understood. He wasn’t sure why. True, her dowry was whispered to be minuscule, but there were enough men who might overlook that if the girl was well-connected and attractive, which Alice was. Her brown hair had a soft, touchable appearance and she had lively green eyes. Moreover, if she were to dress to better enhance her assets, she could easily find beaux.

As she leaned toward Crispin, he appeared to pull back nervously. Which was interesting.

“Captain Taverston,” she said, her eyes rather piercingly fixed upon him, “I have some questions for you.”

“I do not wish to be interrogated, Miss Fogbotham. It is Christmas. No questions.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I suppose you believe ladies are only ever allowed to make silly pleasant conversation.”

“That would be welcome,” Crispin said. His body remained rigid.

Alice harumphed. The next moment, a transformation came over her face. The intelligence of her usual expression dissolved, replaced by an insipid softness. Her eyes widened. He wasn’t sure, but he thought she even pushed back her shoulders to draw eyes to her bosom.

“Captain Taverston,” she simpered, “I have been informed that you waltz exquisitely. Do you know, my dance card for this evening is not entirely full?”

It was a very apt imitation of a ton flirt.

Crispin smiled with something like relief and relaxed. “How very pleasant!” He flirted back with equal irony. “I was unaware that such were the plans for tonight, but if we are pushing aside the chairs in the music room, I would be delighted to satisfy you as to the trustworthiness of your informants.”

“Oh,” she breathed a sigh. “I am sure that with just a bit of your…attention, I would be more than… satisfied .”

Crispin gaped. Miss Jamison gasped. And Benjamin nearly choked with laughter. Crispin was actually blushing.

“Now, Crispin,” Alice said briskly, “pleasantries aside, I want to ask you a few things. I assure you, this won’t hurt.”

“Blast.” Crispin rubbed a hand across his eyes. “You win. Jasper warned me you are trying to light a fire under Haz. And you were likely to probe for something to work into some Whiggish speech to tempt him to speak out again.” He frowned. “You may ask whatever you wish. That doesn’t mean you will receive an answer.”

“Good. I often find it more instructive which questions are not answered.”

“Ruthless,” he muttered.

She proceeded to ask him a series of pointed political questions about Castlereigh and Liverpool. Had he heard that Granville Sharp had died, and didn’t he agree a monument ought to be put up? Then she touched on the Irish question, and even on what he thought of the government providing subsidies to the families of infantrymen fighting on the peninsula instead of those in the militia. Crispin responded with short factual answers, never venturing opinions. Any question that included Wellington’s name, he refused to answer at all. Benjamin watched the exchange as fascinated as if he were at the theater, not only the topics, but the way Alice probed, and Crispin parried.

When the carriage rolled up in front of the church, she settled back with a contented expression. “Thank you, Crispin.”

“I will not say it was my pleasure. And I intend to claim the dance tonight as recompense.”

Alice smiled a genuine smile. “Good. Olivia will be pleased that you’re not disappearing right after church.”

“I said I would not!” He put on an air of indignation. “I said I will stay at least through Christmas supper.”

An early supper, to replace both luncheon and tea. Jasper had again insisted Benjamin and “his ladies” attend. After the family celebration, Jasper would have to be the earl. Villagers and tenants would come wassailing, and he would receive them and distribute warm punch, chestnuts, and cakes. It was the sort of thing Jasper excelled at, though it had fallen to Benjamin, Mrs. Hardy, and Peters to lay in the supplies.

“Yes, Crispin,” Alice said. “But Olivia only believes half of what you say.” Then with a bit of reproach, she added, “It hurts her when you go away like you do without even a goodbye.”

Crispin muttered something no one could hear. The carriage stopped. They all clambered out into the wind and the cold, and hurried into the church.

Benjamin, Hannah, and her nanny took their now-accustomed places near the back. The Taverstons filed into the family pew in the front. With Alice, they filled it.

The rector was an uninspiring preacher. One would think a clergyman could come up with something more rousing in honor of the day. Bored with the message, which he knew by heart, and rather than concentrating on prayer as he ought, Benjamin observed Olivia, which he ought not. Whether it was merriment or simple contentment, even when wearing half-mourning at Christmastime, she glowed. He swore her light never dimmed.

When Hannah grew fussy midway through the long morning, Miss Jamison took her out. They had arranged, in case of such, for the carriage to take them back to Chaumbers and then return. For the rest of the service, Benjamin was alone. He should not have minded, but his solitude made watching the Taverstons, packed together on their bench, all the more painful. He envied them, and envy was a dangerous emotion.

The service ended and they returned to their carriages. This time, it was Vanessa who joined them rather than Alice. She and Crispin conversed much more amiably, exchanging news about old army friends. Tension slowly lifted from Benjamin’s shoulders. It was not until they arrived at Chaumbers and exited the carriage that the tension returned. Crispin touched his arm and said, “If you have a moment, there is something Jasper and I would like to discuss. Will you join us in his study?”

What could be so important on Christmas Day? Nothing good.

“I can come right away if you wish.”

“It isn’t that urgent.” Crispin gave one of his unreadable smiles. “But why don’t we meet there in an hour. Before supper. Just in case the weather clears, and I disappear.”

*

Benjamin could not hold onto his melancholy when he entered his apartments and found Hannah, prettily dressed in a new yellow frock that Miss Jamison had stitched for her, singing Christmas carols at the top of her lungs. Miss Jamison coaxed her along, laughing, as Hannah sang “When Shepherds Watched Their Flocks by Night.” Most of the words were intelligible. Hannah truly was a bright little lass. He gave her a kiss, then turned to the nanny.

“I have to meet with the earl before supper. If I am not back on time, please come with Hannah to the dining hall.”

“Yes, Mr. Carroll.”

While they continued singing, Benjamin went to his dressing room-cum-office and exchanged his neck cloth for a fresh one. He settled down to review notes he had taken on the farmers’ opinions of which crops had done well the past few years, and which hadn’t. He didn’t expect to debate estate matters on Christmas Day, but it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared.

He hoped it was something to do with the estate. He couldn’t think of anything else that they might wish to discuss. Not unless it was Olivia. He’d managed to convince himself he’d imagined Jasper’s suspicions, but then, he might have raised Crispin’s. Seated at that card table, he’d practically fawned over her.

With a quarter hour to spare, he made his way over to Jasper’s study. The door was open. He wasn’t sure whether he felt reassured or even more concerned when he heard all three brothers inside, laughing. He knocked on the door frame and entered. The laughter abated slowly, then they all turned to him. He felt he was walking into an Inquisition.

“Sit, Benjamin,” Jasper said, indicating a chair that had been dragged in from elsewhere. Benjamin sat. “Firstly, there is this.” Jasper leaned across his desk and passed a slip of paper to Crispin who handed it to Benjamin. Benjamin lifted the seal and unfolded the paper to find a bank draft for twenty-five pounds.

Why? “What is this?”

The three brothers exchanged glances and chuckled softly.

“You may call it what you wish,” Jasper said. “Either a Christmas present or an addition to your salary in gratitude for your work.”

“Thank you.” He let out a breath. Not severance. “I had not anticipated any such thing, but I am grateful.” In truth, he was somewhat embarrassed. He was already very well paid and accepting a monetary gift struck him as lowering. As if they were reminding him of his place. But at least it seemed he was not in danger of losing it.

“There is something else,” Crispin said. “Jasp said you were reluctant to move into the south wing.”

“Not reluctant. Not exactly.”

“Well, it is certainly understandable if you were. The situation worked well for the Bradwells, but they were a strange pair.” Crispin’s brow furrowed. “The arrangement began well before our time. It is not something that needs to be continued.”

“I don’t understand.”

Reg spoke up. “Crispin reminded us that prior to Bradwell’s tenure, the steward had a cottage similar to the dower house, out beyond the folly.”

“It is still there,” Crispin said. “Quite run down, I’m afraid. But it would not take much to set it to rights. Hannah could run about at will and Miss Jamison might feel less nervous about disturbing the family. Not that we are at all disturbed, mind you.”

“Moreover, your situation is nothing like Bradwell’s.” Jasper cleared his throat. “Serving as our steward should not prevent you from having a life. If you wish to court, you must do so. Most wives would prefer a home to live in rather than being confined to a few rooms.”

“A wife?” Benjamin said, incredulous. This was why they had summoned him? “You are suggesting I take a wife?”

“You have a child,” Reg said. “A nanny is all well and good, but a mother would be better.”

Heat flooded Benjamin’s face. He wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment or anger. They had all been discussing his private business behind his back. And had concluded his arrangements for his daughter were wanting. With Reg pretending to dole out expert advice.

“I believe that is my own affair.”

“Well, exactly.” Jasper harumphed. “You don’t need nosy Taverstons looking over your shoulder. Moreover, the third thing is—you work too hard.”

“Too hard?” Benjamin laughed, disbelieving. This was worse than an Inquisition. He would rather face Torquemada than the three Taverston brothers. “Surely no one complains of a steward who works too hard.”

“I’m not complaining. But just as you said you did not want to take advantage of my friendship, I don’t want to take advantage of your eagerness to be of service. Benjamin…we should not make this difficult. If you want to remain in the house, then stay. We only thought to offer you an option. We don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

No? What could make him more uncomfortable than suggesting he find himself a wife? No doubt one suitable to his station. If this whole thing was, in fact, about Olivia, they may as well accuse him now. Openly.

“And what makes you think I am uncomfortable?”

“Because you refuse every invitation to be sociable unless I frame it as an order.” Jasper’s voice rose.

“In Benjamin’s defense, Jasp, you can be overbearing,” Crispin said, studying his nails. He glanced up, laughter in his eyes. “Not everyone needs as much society as you do. Is that not so, Reg?”

“Well, Jasper wears me out,” he agreed.

Jasper pursed his lips. It was evidently a familiar taunt.

“Just have a look at the old steward’s cottage,” Crispin said. “If it does not appeal to you, forget I suggested it.”

So it was Crispin’s idea. Benjamin didn’t know whether that was better or worse. Well, he hadn’t thought it wise to move here. A little distance would be a good thing.

“I will ride out and have a look at it, certainly. Thank you.”

“Let me know what renovations are needed,” Jasper said. “And what the cost may be. Whether or not you choose to live there, it is a worthwhile improvement to the estate. There is no point letting a cottage go to ruin.”

Benjamin nodded. The Earl of Iversley would have his way, regardless.

Reg stood up. “We had better move to the dining hall. Mother will not be pleased if we are late for Christmas supper.”