Alicia (10 page)

“Of course, Mama. I have already spoken with Hodges.”

But there was no need to hire the gig when the time came. Lord Stronbert had spent more hours relieving his mother’s debt than he had expected. Because he also had called for his new carriage, he found himself unable to set out for the Court until shortly before three. He therefore thoughtfully called at the inn and offered to take Felicia up with him, assuring her that his nephew would welcome the opportunity to drive her back in his uncle’s new phaeton, as he was forever itching to get his hands on the ribbons. “You will not be alarmed by the height, will you?”
he asked as he ushered his passenger to the carriage.

Felicia regarded the splendid vehicle, which had two iron cranes with bends in them under which the front wheels could turn, making the vehicle more wieldy. The marquis’s crest was on the side of the black-painted body. “I have never seen anything like it,”
she breathed with awe.

“It is an indulgence of mine,”
he admitted somewhat sheepishly. “I have just gotten it from the coach-makers and the horses may be a trifle skittish for a while, but I am not like to overset us.”

Felicia allowed herself to be handed up and discovered that his last comment was an understatement. She had seldom seen anyone exert the graceful control over his horses that Stronbert did. And the horses! She would not have been surprised to hear that they could do sixteen miles in an hour without being touched in the wind. They were young chestnuts with splendid shoulders and a glorious matched step that made her feel as though she were floating. Her eyes sparkled with enjoyment.

“Do you drive?”
Stronbert asked as they approached the gates of the Court.

“I have driven a gig, yes, but nothing like this. Two horses must be much more difficult to control than one.”

“A little, but when they are well schooled it is not a difficult matter. Would you like to try? The carriageway is straight here.”

Felicia gulped down the nervous lump in her throat and nodded, as she was not able to speak. Stronbert showed her how to position the ribbons and the whip so that she might have use of both. The horses broke step at the unfamiliar hand on the reins and Stronbert held his own over Felicia’s until they regained their stride. As they approached the bend in the drive Felicia asked, “Do you wish to take them round the bend yourself, sir?”

“Not if you think you can handle it. The curve is gentle to the left and the horses are used to it.”

Felicia took one quick look at his confident countenance and settled down to the task before her. She thought he murmured, “Good girl,”
but she could not be sure and her attention was soon directed to the magnificent building before her. “Best stop in front. I see Rowland is eager to try his hand.”

Felicia exerted a gentle but firm pressure on the ribbons and the chestnuts came to a standstill beside the young man she had seen in town the previous day. His eyes were all for the phaeton and did not seem to take her in at all. “I say, Uncle Nigel, it’s a bang-up rig! May I take it to the stables?”
the young man asked enthusiastically as he ran to the chestnuts’
heads.

Lord Stronbert handed Felicia to the ground and said distinctly to her, “You will have to forgive my nephew. He sometimes forgets his manners and he has hardly been able to wait for the carriage to be ready.”

Rowland flushed a deep crimson and mumbled a hasty apology to Felicia. Lord Stronbert introduced them formally and Rowland bowed and said, “Your servant, Miss Coombs.”
Felicia returned the greeting with a demure curtsy, but she had not missed the recognition in his eyes.

“You let her drive it, Uncle Nigel?”
Rowland asked suspiciously.

“Yes, and for a first time with two in hand she did remarkably well.”

“May I drive it round to the stables?”
Rowland asked again.

“So long as you do not reach them by way of Tetterton,”
his uncle admonished. “Your grandmother will be expecting you for tea.”

“Oh, thank you, sir. If you will excuse me for a moment, Miss Coombs?”
he remembered to ask.

Felicia assured him that she would and watched as he sprang up onto the high seat. He grasped the whip and ribbons with an enthusiast’s eagerness and gave the horses the office.

“You are very trusting, Lord Stronbert,”
she murmured as his lordship turned his back on the carriage and his nephew, and offered her his arm.

“Yes,”
he sighed, “but there is nothing for it. He will have to try it out sooner or later. Shall you be afraid to have him drive you back to the inn?”

Felicia half turned to see the young man round the corner of the west wing carefully and responded, “I think not,”
just as the massive front doors were opened by the elderly but extremely distinguished-looking butler, Williams. Stronbert nodded and led Felicia himself up the grand staircase to the gold parlor where his mother was seated with perhaps a dozen other people. Felicia was overwhelmed by the dimensions of the room, its elegant Adams fireplace and its beautiful Turkish carpet in the center of the room. There was a handsome harpsichord to one side, a table in the center, and several dozen chairs placed about the room in groups. Facing the window were a fauteuil sofa and two armchairs. From these two latter Matthew and Helen erupted at sight of Felicia and bounded across the room, tugging a young woman behind them.

“Oh, I am so pleased that you have come,”
Miss Helen cried. “I have been waiting to introduce you to my cousin Dorothy.”

“Children,”
Stronbert said firmly, “you must allow me to present Miss Coombs to your grandmother first.”
The young people, looking somewhat abashed, stepped back while their father led Felicia to his mother and said, “I believe you have met Miss Coombs, Mother. I beg you to introduce her to everyone while I make myself presentable.”

The dowager marchioness eyed Felicia’s new dress suspiciously, but was unfailingly polite as she presented the other occupants of the room. The bewildering number of names and faces frightened Felicia somewhat, but she relaxed when the young people finally drew her over to their side of the room. “Dorothy has a brother who is twenty, but he has not come in for tea yet,”
Miss Helen explained.

“Yes, I met him outside. He cozened his uncle into allowing him to drive the new phaeton round to the stables.”

Matthew was indignant. “Now is that not just like my cousin Rowland. And I have not yet even had a ride in it.”

“You will, young man,”
his father, who had just re-entered the room, announced placatingly. “In fact, I have a mind to teach you to drive it. Miss Coombs tried her hand on the way here.”

“Did you?”
Matthew turned to ask Felicia. When she nodded, he regarded her wonderingly.

“But only for a short while. The horses took exception to my hand on the ribbons,”
she confessed.

“Never say they bolted with you!”
he exclaimed incredulously.

“No, no, for your father steadied them for me. And then they were very well behaved.”

Rowland joined their group then and expressed once again his admiration for the new phaeton. “May I drive it again soon, sir?”

“I have in mind that you will take Miss Coombs back to the inn when she is ready to leave. Why do you not all show her about the grounds now? I cannot believe that you wish to stay in here.”
He gave a deprecating shrug in the direction of the rest of the party.

“But I must see Miss...”
Felicia protested, unable to recall if she knew the seamstress’s name.

“Miss Carnworth. Later, if you please. She is enjoying her tea just now.”

Felicia blushed in embarrassment. “Of course. I beg your pardon.”

Stronbert waved aside her apology and shooed the young people out of the room, saying to Felicia as she left, “Have Williams show you to me in the library when you return and I will take you to Miss Carnworth.”

“Yes, my lord,”
Felicia agreed with a shy curtsy.

Dorothy linked her arm with Felicia’s and said, “He’s a pet, really. Even when he scolds you he is never really cross, just...firm, I guess it is.”

“He is very kind,”
Felicia replied. “Where do you come from, Miss Clinton?”

“You must call me Dorothy. I do not know your name.”

“Felicia. I hope you will use it.”

“What a pretty name. Well, Felicia, we are from near Bath. My mama is Lord Stronbert’s sister. Mama has been sick with a nasty crack of influenza, but she is getting stronger all the time now. We had a very cheery letter from her just yesterday. And she has never had a weak constitution like Uncle Nigel’s wife did, so I try not to worry over her so much. But Uncle Nigel thought we might enjoy staying at the Court while she recuperates.”

“My mama and I used to live near Scarborough, but we have just come to Tetterton. Mama has bought Mr. Dean’s shop in the High Street.”
Felicia watched anxiously to see how her new acquaintance would accept this statement.

“Yes, Helen told me so. Shall you help her there?”
Dorothy asked. She gave no sign of discomfort and Felicia relaxed somewhat.

“Not in the shop, but I plan to decorate some of the bonnets. Mr. Dean’s taste in hats is not altogether pleasing,”
she giggled.

“Well, I shall come and buy one of your bonnets,”
Dorothy declared.

“I hope you will find one to like.”

Rowland, who had been talking with his cousins, joined the two young women and asked Felicia if she would like to see the stables. Dorothy demurred, saying, “That is all Rowland is ever interested in, Felicia. Horses and carriages. You cannot want to soil your pretty dress in the stables.”

“I should like to see what horses his lordship has, though,”
Felicia admitted.

“There, you see?”
Rowland declared triumphantly. He was as blond as his sister but much taller than she. They were a handsome pair, resembling one another enough to be twins with their grave brown eyes and aristocratic noses. The firm chins were duplicates, too, but where Dorothy’s mouth was small, his was wide.

“Do you really want to see them?”
Dorothy asked, not nearly as loath to venture there as she had sounded.

“Yes, for I find it hard to believe that one estate could house so many fine animals as I have seen so far—the children’s mounts, and Lord Stronbert’s, to say nothing of the chestnuts which drew the phaeton.”

Felicia was not disappointed in the stables. The hunters and carriage horses were as magnificent as the riding mounts. Helen and Matthew pointed out each of the horses, and knew their names and qualities. The tour went on for some time and Felicia thought she had never seen so many horses at one time, even in a coaching inn. The young people walked for a while past the kitchen garden, and a row of hothouses and along the home wood to the hill beyond, where a waterfall babbled over pebbles and down into a stream that ended at a lake near the deer park. Felicia was enchanted with the scene and longed to go farther but felt she should be returning to the Court for her meeting with Miss Carnworth.

Williams showed her into the library where she found Stronbert seated at a rosewood cylinder desk. The leather-covered writing surface had been drawn forward from under the pigeon holes and his lordship was writing on cream-colored crested paper. He put down the quill immediately when Felicia was announced and rose to greet her.

“I have spoken with Miss Carnworth and she will be expecting us. Are you sure you wish to do this, Miss Coombs? There really is no need; I could have the material sent to London. On the other hand, Miss Carnworth is the only one who knows my mother’s size exactly and need not have her for a fitting to complete the outfit. You understand this is in the nature of a surprise.”

Felicia grinned. “Yes, I understand that and I really am looking forward to designing a gown from such magnificent material. I was surprised that Mr. Dean stocked anything so fine.”

“There is certainly little call for it in Tetterton, I should imagine.”
He walked with her now through the vast hall and into the west wing where she was soon confused by the turns they made. A gentle voice responded to his tap on the door and she was ushered into a cheerful suite where a middle-aged woman she had been introduced to in the gold parlor awaited them. The woman was dressed rather severely and spoke bluntly, “I understand that Lord Stronbert has at last decided to see that his mother has at least one decent gown. I could not count on both hands the gowns I have made up for her which I would gladly have consigned to the fire. I myself have no flair for design, but one could buy more attractive gowns ready made in a shop than the last one I worked on.”

Felicia was rather alarmed by this outspokenness and darted a glance at Stronbert to see how he dealt with it. His eyes were laughing as he retorted, “Really, Miss Susan, I am surprised that you have not convinced my mother by now that her taste is execrable.”

“Convince the dowager marchioness! You must be loose in the haft, young man. Come and sit at my work table, Miss Coombs, and show me what you have in mind. We will not need you further, Nigel,”
she dismissed him.

He accepted this brusque dismissal, but Felicia could not resist whispering to him as he turned to go, “I thought you told my mother she was biddable!”

The sound of his warm laughter did not cease until he had left the west wing. Felicia obediently seated herself and accepted the quill and paper offered her. She talked as she drew and found Miss Carnworth easily understood her plans for the brocade. They both had a healthy respect for the quality of the material and the style Felicia suggested would both enhance it and its elderly wearer. Miss Carnworth nodded over the finished sketches and announced, “Now that is more in keeping. You are very clever, child. Did you make the dress you are wearing?”

Felicia flushed slightly. “Yes, Mama let me choose the material yesterday and I made it quickly so that I could wear it to tea.”

“Are you in mourning? It is rather dark for one so young,”
Miss Carnworth remarked bluntly.

“Yes, ma’am. My father died some months ago. We are but just starting to wear colors.”

Miss Carnworth examined the dress and commented approvingly, “You must be handy with a needle, Miss Coombs. I have always enjoyed making clothing myself, and I thought for a while that Lord Stronbert would object. But, there, he has been very accommodating. Not that they keep me busy at the court, you understand, but there is enough to indulge my fancy from time to time. Miss Helen is a pleasure to sew for. I understand you made her bonnet.”