Page 22 of Waiting for Love (The Taverstons of Iversley #3)

I n late March, the Duke and Duchess of Hovington returned to London. They carted Mr. Boring off with them so that he could “engage in ton reconnaissance.” It was settled. Olivia was to leave Chaumbers the first week in April.

Until then, Benjamin avoided her as best he could. When their paths did cross, Olivia seemed a different person. She treated him as another bothersome brother, with just the right measure of affection and disdain. Her giddy anticipation of her upcoming Season might have convinced even him that she had nothing on her mind but suitors and balls. It crushed him.

He was devastated, but Chaumbers estate was poised to thrive. He had brought every debt in arrears up to date. Miraculously, the tenants had no current complaints. Now he could start looking forward: finding a hardier strain of wheat seed, purchasing a strong young boar for stud, draining the mucky portion of the meadow near the lake. The cottage should be habitable by April’s end. There were two healthy foals in the stable. Buds were beginning to appear on the trees. Of course, Benjamin could not take credit for the foals or the trees, but he believed he had proven himself a capable steward. A blackguard, certainly, but a capable steward.

After a day spent helping the Fowlers patch their chicken coop, he found a summons from Jasper: his presence was required at tea. He changed from his sweaty clothes and dirty riding boots into more appropriate attire. A glance in the mirror showed a touch of sunburn. He’d forgotten his hat when he went about yesterday, something a gentleman would never do.

Miss Jamison and Hannah were at the dower house, so Benjamin had to face today’s gathering alone. He walked the long corridors, footsteps echoing, until he reached the main part of the house, and jogged up the stairs to the parlor. Reg and Georgiana were already there. Arthur slept in a bassinet in the corner, so they greeted Benjamin in quiet tones.

Two days earlier, Reg had ridden out to the cottage with him, so they returned to the discussion of the work being done. When Jasper and Vanessa arrived, conversation shifted to the lecture Reg was to give in Oxford in a couple of weeks. Alice wandered in. And finally, Olivia arrived, glowing from exertion, her hair braided unevenly as if she had done it herself. She brought with her the scent of springtime.

“I’m so sorry. Am I late?” she asked, stripping off her gloves. She wore her blue riding habit. The one he particularly liked. He thought it might have grown too small for her. When she took long strides, it conformed to the shape of her legs. “I’m famished. I was down at the Crofts saying goodbye to the pugs.”

“To the Crofts, too, I hope,” Reg said.

Olivia stuck out her tongue.

Vanessa laughed and pulled the bell cord. They all settled into the chairs, talking of nothing serious, simply pleased to be in one another’s company. Tea arrived a few minutes later. Vanessa poured. Jasper sat on the edge of his chair. The moment everyone had tea in their cups, he spoke.

“There is a change in plans. I don’t wish to pull rank—”

“But you will.” Olivia laughed.

“Yes, I will. I had a letter from Hazard. There are some debates coming to the floor that he says I ought not to miss.”

“Debates?” Alice’s eyes sparked. “Which issues?”

Jasper gave her a narrow look. “Something about a statue of Granville Sharp, for one. I take it Hazard will be speaking.”

Alice smiled like a cat in cream.

It was very clever of Hazard. A small motion to put forth. It would receive the votes. Likely by a sizable majority. After all, the abolitionist was unobjectionable now that he was dead.

Jasper continued, “The weather promises clear for tomorrow.”

“We’re leaving tomorrow ?” Olivia’s eyes met Benjamin’s before she peeled them away. “But my things are not packed.”

“They are mostly,” Vanessa said. “And can be by morning. We would only spend the next ten days twiddling our thumbs, waiting to go.”

“I suppose.” Olivia smiled a little too brightly. “London! It doesn’t seem real.”

“There is more.” Jasper turned his gaze to Benjamin. “I hate to do this.”

Benjamin tensed.

At the same moment, Arthur gave an earsplitting screech.

Georgiana sighed. She rose slowly, crossed the room to the bassinet, and hoisted the unhappy infant. She put him on her shoulder, patted his back, said “excuse me,” and went out the door. Reg looked pained. The noise faded as Georgiana walked down the hall.

Jasper scowled at his brother. “This ridiculous frugality needs to stop. I’m putting another fifty pounds into your account. That child needs a nursemaid. Hire one. Georgiana is worn to the bone.”

Reg inhaled sharply. His jaw hardened and he flushed a deep shade of red. Benjamin winced inwardly. For a man celebrated for his charm, there were times Jasper had no tact at all.

Reg spoke in a voice as tight as a vice. “If you ever, ever , disparage my care for my family again, I will lay you out flat.”

Jasper reeled back stunned. “I only meant—”

Vanessa put a hand on his sleeve, and he went silent. Then he cleared his throat. “I apologize. It is not my concern.”

Reg nodded. The rest of the room let out a collective held breath. That was not the usual jovial Taverston bickering.

Reg said, “If you must know, we have engaged a nursemaid in Cambridge who will begin when we return. Until then, I have asked Milly Hearn to accompany Georgiana to London.”

“To London?” Jasper’s eyes widened. Again, Vanessa put her hand on his arm.

With a long-suffering sigh, Reg said, “Georgiana is perfectly well. And she wants to go to London to see Olivia launched. I’ll only be at Oxford for a few days and then I will join her. Arthur will be fine. Milly has six siblings and knows everything about babies that she needs to.”

Milly was the eldest daughter of one of Jasper’s tenants. A young thing, but older than her years. Benjamin understood Taverstons were once again closing ranks. Having Georgiana in London would be good for Olivia. Good for Vanessa too.

Jasper had a stoppered look on his face. He wanted to say more. After another moment, Reg took pity on him.

“Jasper, if I should ever find myself financially distressed, I will not hesitate to ask for help. But we can afford a nursemaid. Benjamin found tenants for the upper floors of my house in Bath. A quiet older couple who have already made themselves beloved by our aunts.”

“You’ve leased out part of the house?” Jasper said.

As Reg nodded, Benjamin felt his gut tighten, and then flip over when Jasper turned his scrutiny upon him. Thankfully, he quickly returned to Reg.

“An ingenious solution. I would not have thought of it.”

“Benjamin thought of it.”

“It was Tate who suggested it,” Benjamin said. “He said it was your father’s idea. In case Mr. Taverston did not want to go into the Church.”

Jasper drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, then put all that aside in the way that he could. “So Georgiana and Reg will be in London. Good. Benjamin, this brings me back to you.” He cleared his throat. “I know you are not eager to return to the city with Hannah, but I could use you there and I hope you will come.”

“To London? Now?” Startled, he held his head still to keep his gaze from going to Olivia. “Why?”

“Our underbutler, Finley, sent word to Peters that there is water seeping into the wine cellar. I told Peters to tell Finley to hire someone, but apparently that sort of thing was always handled by Bradwell. Peters said there are other repairs that need to be seen to, too.” Jasper pursed his lips. “I knew Chaumbers was being neglected but I didn’t realize the townhouse was falling apart.”

“I didn’t notice any disrepair when I was there.” That disturbed him. He should have.

“I doubt it’s noticeable unless you are going down into the cellars. Or up and down the back stairs.” With a grimace, Jasper said, “I know you were hired to look after Chaumbers. If this is too much—”

“No. It is not. No. Things are in hand here. I can certainly go to London.”

This would be a nightmare.

“Good.” Jasper’s brow cleared and he grinned. “Can you be ready to leave by tomorrow morning?”

Feeling lightheaded, he answered, “Yes, of course.”

Then he glanced around the room for excuse to see Olivia’s reaction. Her eyes were wild. He couldn’t tell whether she was pleased or horrified. How could he? He didn’t know if he was pleased or horrified himself.

*

It was like traveling in a bloody king’s train.

The earl’s coach did not suffice so the ladies divided themselves between the coach and a lesser carriage. Three more vehicles were required for servants and baggage. Outriders guarded the procession ahead and behind. Jasper and Benjamin rode alongside. Benjamin was lent a very fine horse, one of Jasper’s personal mounts. Which was either another one of his unlooked-for and unnecessary gestures of friendship or a reward for Benjamin’s pliancy. For the first part of the journey, Jasper permitted Olivia to ride Oatmeal, with the understanding that at the first posting station, she would give over the reins and enter the coach. Debutantes did not enter London on horseback.

Olivia showed the appropriate degree of pleasure and gratitude for this concession. Jasper wore an annoyingly condescending look of approval. And possibly self-congratulation. Along the route, he remarked upon the sights to see in London, even though Olivia had been there before when she was younger and had certainly seen most of them. Olivia made all the correct responses. From time to time, Benjamin put in a word: his favorite museum exhibit, a curiosity shop on Tyburn Road that she might find amusing, a recommendation for the apricot ices at Gunthers. He hoped he didn’t sound as patronizing as Jasper.

After they had taken tea at the posting station where the draft horses were exchanged, Olivia volunteered to ride with Milly, Miss Jamison, and the two little ones so that Georgiana could spend a few uninterrupted hours with “grown-up ladies.”

The journey took the entire day. Entering the outskirts of the city at dusk, Benjamin noticed Jasper growing invigorated. Of course. He was eager to return to his club, the races, the parties, even the halls of Parliament. The man had more friends than Bacchus. At Oxford, Jasper could not walk across a field without collecting men like cockleburs. But Benjamin shouldn’t poke fun. Jasper had also made his own university experience bearable.

He’d come to the school on a scholarship as a servitor, the lowest of the low. He had to work for the privilege of attending. He was assigned to one of the residence houses as a bootblack or boy-of-all-work. His fellow students, many of them, served up unimaginably menial tasks for him to perform. They took perverse pleasure in doing so.

Very early on, Benjamin became aware of Lord Taverston, a student living in the house. Lord Taverston never felt the need to degrade someone else to inflate his own importance. If he needed something done, he ordered it done, but without gratuitous insult. So when Benjamin came upon him one night, slumped in a doorway, incapacitated with drink, rather than leave him there, he hauled him up to his room and made sure he was passed out on his stomach rather than his back. He didn’t know how Jasper discovered it had been him, but a few nights later, Jasper invited him out drinking, “just in case it happened again.” It didn’t. Jasper was more careful after that, though he could still drink vats dry with his fellows. And those fellows learned not to harass Benjamin when Jasper was around.

But that was not how they became good friends.

The following year, Crispin entered the college. Crispin was…not at all like Jasper. Jasper had the typical gentleman’s disinterest in learning. He came to school to carouse away from parental eyes. But whereas Jasper never lost sight of the essential dignity of his position, Crispin was wild. He lacked all discipline.

One would not recognize the boy seeing the man he had become.

Crispin terrified Jasper. Or rather, Jasper was terrified for him. He did everything in excess. Too fast. Too much.

When they were halfway through the first term that year, he disappeared. Jasper admitted only to irritation. Three days turned to four, then five, and more. The seventh night, Benjamin was sleeping in his dank cellar room when he was awakened by a knock and the groan of the door. Jasper stood in the doorway with a taper.

“Can I trust you to be discreet?”

“What? Yes. Yes, of course.”

“Then come with me.”

Jasper waited while he pulled on his clothes, then they sneaked out of the cellar, out of the house, and out the gate. It was the middle of the night. Leaving the grounds was against every rule. If they were caught, someone would have rapped Jasper’s knuckles severely. Benjamin would have been sent down.

He followed Jasper to the ugly side of Oxford Village, to a brothel the boys all agreed was best avoided. Jasper shoved open the door, scattered coins as though sowing seeds, and said, “Where is he?”

“Now who you be looking for guv’nor?” a nearly toothless sow asked, toeing a few of the coins into a pile. “We don’t have boys, but if you want—”

Jasper stepped forward and pressed his boot down on her toes. “Don’t. Play. Games.”

“Daisy!” she called out, eyes fearful. “Take the guv’nor to Cris.”

“ Cris? Damn him.” Jasper spat on the floor, enraged this earl’s son now had bawds calling him by a diminutive of his given name. “Benjamin!”

“I’m coming.”

The place was squalid. The girl who led them to Crispin was so malnourished she looked forty but was probably half that. Crispin lay on a filthy, thin bed in a dark back room. He was nearly naked, stupid with drink, and stank of gin and worse. Jasper cast about for Crispin’s clothes and found them lumped in a corner. Damp with God-knew-what.

Jasper swore a blue streak. Then he took off his own jacket and put it around his brother’s shoulders. He wrapped the blanket around Crispin’s waist like a skirt.

“Stand up, Crispin.”

Crispin could not. Jasper and Benjamin each took an arm around their shoulders and dragged him back to the house.

That was the first time.

Jasper kept a close eye on him the rest of the term. If Crispin went whoring, Jasper went with him, or else he gave Benjamin a few shillings and sent him along to be sure that Crispin returned afterward.

When the term ended, and they went home to London on break, Jasper invited Benjamin. Payment, he assumed. But in the Taverstons’ warm, welcoming home, he felt it was more than that. Jasper was not rewarding him with a peek at life in an earl’s house. He was rewarding him with the chance to become better friends. An opportunity to better himself.

Back at school, Crispin again abandoned any pretense of studying. He drank and whored at a pace that Jasper could not match. This time, when he disappeared for a fortnight, Jasper pretended rigid indifference.

Benjamin was carrying slop buckets to the alley when he heard a “ Pssst , sir. Sir! Lord Taverston, sir.” He peered through the dark until he spied the girl Daisy.

“I am not Lord Taverston.”

“Then you are the friend?”

“Yes.”

“Can you help? Cris is in a bad way.”

A shock of cold fear ran down his neck. “Drunk?” he said, trying to scoff.

“No, sir. He ain’t had a drink in days. Nor nothing. He said not to fetch Lord Taverston, but I don’t want him dying in—”

“Dying!”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ll come.”

Daisy did not take him into the brothel, but to the cowshed behind it.

“T’was the bloody flux got him. I was with him, but we didn’t do nuthin’ coz he couldn’t. I thought it was drink, but in the morning, I knew it warn’t. Madame, she was angry he brought the flux into the house. She wanted to throw him into the street. But she was afraid Lord Taverston would come, so she had me drug him out here.”

“He’s been sick with the flux for two weeks ?” Benjamin shouted at the girl. “And no one sent for Lord Taverston?”

“He said not to! He said it warn’t the flux. And no one else got sick, not even me, and I’m the one cleaning him up coz Madame said I had to. But he said he’d get better, and he isn’t.”

She threw open the door. Crispin lay shivering in the straw. His skin was the color of thin blue-white milk. The air stank of sickness. Not gin. Not sex. Profound sickness overwhelmed even the smell of cow.

Benjamin carried Crispin back to the house.

“Don’t tell Jasper. He’ll send me home. Don’t tell him.”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

He told Jasper. The physician Jasper summoned advised against trying to travel to London or Chaumbers. Crispin was too weak. He said laudanum might help. Which Crispin fought. He’d been given it before. But he hadn’t a choice. For the next month, Benjamin nursed him. Dosed him with laudanum until the danger was passed. And then watched him suffer when the drug was withdrawn. Benjamin learned that Crispin had been a sickly child. He was desperate not to be known as a sickly young man.

Supposedly, he was doing better now. In the army. Benjamin wondered how.

The earl’s entourage entered Grosvenor Square. Jasper’s townhouse loomed large in the distance. Benjamin felt a shadow of the awe that had engulfed him the first time he saw it and understood that a friend of his actually lived in a four-story palace with a gray-stucco facade, an iron-work balcony across the second floor, and a large-porticoed entrance, all overlooking the manicured acres and acres of the garden square.

The carriages rumbled and the horses clip-clopped along the cobbles.

Benjamin thought of the letter he’d received when Crispin left school and bought his commission: “I will be proud to die for King and Country. I would not have been proud to die in a brothel’s cowshed.”

Maybe his relations with the Taverstons had always been tinged with servitude on his part and gratitude on theirs. But it had not seemed so to him during those halcyon years when they were no longer boys but not yet men. The friendship they offered had seemed genuine.

He’d known he was not their equal, but he’d learned how to ride, how to dance, how to hold his fork, when to wear gloves and when to remove them. He would never be a gentleman, but he learned how not to embarrass himself in the company of gentlemen. Callow fellow that he’d been, he almost believed he belonged in that company.

Until Olivia waved him into the billiard room. And told him she loved him. And every illusion he’d been harboring came crashing down.

It had been easy to break her young heart when she didn’t hold his in her hands. But it meant facing the fact that he was who he was. What he was. It meant leaving the cocoon of the Taverstons’ kindness to make his own way in the world.

Only to crawl back to them when he failed.

Now, he would have to bear witness to Olivia’s coming-out. Other men would woo her. One would win her. He wanted her to find happiness. He did .

But the unfairness of the world sapped his strength. Mocked his equanimity. He did not want to resent the Taverston brothers, his good friends , but feared he would. He feared he did.