Ambersley (Lords of London) (5 page)

Paget scanned the table like a hawk examining the terrain. “While Lady Vaughan may use the Dower House and its contents as her own, the table silver at the Hall is the property of the Duke of Ambersley. Like the late duchess’s jewelry, I have secured the duke’s property against his return, at which time I will relinquish it to him and to no other.”

Tom coughed into his hand, and Johnny smiled. She and Tom had helped the butler bury a wooden crate at the edge of his vegetable garden the day before.

Door hinges creaked and a warm breeze swept into the kitchen as Rory and Mr. Broadmoor joined them.

“
My apologies, Mrs. Chalmers.”

“
None needed, Mr. Broadmoor,” she said to the bailiff. “’Tis three years since we stood on ceremony when it comes to meals. We all have our work to do. I’ll do my best to keep you all fed.”

“
Thank you, ma’am, but I’m not sure I can eat a bite.” The head groom, Rory, paced the length of the room. “Lady Vaughan has just ordered me to sell all but four of the horses. Mr. Broadmoor, I appeal to you, does she have any right to issue such directives?”

Broadmoor accepted a plate from Mrs. Chalmers and sat in his chair at the foot of the table. “It’s regrettable, Rory, but I must agree with Lady Vaughan. The horses cost a fortune to feed. We’ve been mad to hold onto them this long.”

“
They’ve been earning their keep.”

“
Aye, but if we sell them, they’ll earn all of our keep for a year or more.” Broadmoor shook his head at the dejected groom. “It’s a shame, but we can always buy new horses.”

“’
Tis the end of the finest stable in England.” Rory pushed a hand through his hair, though it did nothing to tame the unruly silver waves.

Paget laid down his knife and fork. “It will take time for us to grow accustomed to Lady Vaughan’s ways. She is undeniably different from the late duke and duchess, but I have no doubt, if we persevere, we will be able to anticipate her needs and serve her well.”

“
God help us all,” Rory muttered.

The butler looked sternly down his hooked nose at the groom who flushed and offered a quick apology.

“
I’m sure you’re right, Mr. Paget,” Martha said. “Lady Vaughan must have a good side. Family seems to be important to her. Her children are very well-behaved.”

“
That’s Miss Trent’s doing,” Mr. Pritchard replied. “For a governess, may I say, she exhibits a great deal of common sense.”

Martha stole a glance at Tom before turning back to the table. “But what of Lady Vaughan? Has she expressed any interest in the Vaughan family?”

“
The day she arrived, I was given the task of showing her around.” Mr. Pritchard pushed back his chair, squaring his thin shoulders as he warmed to his story. “I told Lady Vaughan the history of Lord and Lady Ambersley, the many children they had lost in infancy, and then she asked about the fire. I told her what I could and shared with her our devout hope that young Miss Amber is somewhere still alive, and that one day she’ll return to us.”

Johnny felt a knot form in her stomach. Talk of Miss Amber always made her feel sick, though she didn’t know why it should bother her.

Tom scratched his chin. “What did she say to that?”

Mr. Pritchard looked around the table at each and every face. “I’m afraid she’s more interested in the money and the title than the family. She said it was just as well that no one had found Miss Amber, for it would be just one more mouth to feed, one more child to raise.”

Johnny watched Tom and Martha grip hands while everyone else stared at Mr. Pritchard.

~

Martha always helped Mrs. Chalmers with the baking, but curious to see the Lady of Quality first-hand, she offered to help prepare luncheon the following day for Lady Vaughan and the children.

“
She don’t keep country hours,” Mrs. Chalmers said as she put a cover over the platter of stuffed chicken. “Luncheon never before two. As if any of those London dandies are going to pay a morning call.”

Martha considered the luncheon platters. “Only three plates?”

“
Lady Vaughan never shares meals with
the help
,” said Mrs. Chalmers. “After I serve in the dining room, I take a tray to Miss Trent and the maid.”

Nodding, Martha hefted a tray and followed Mrs. Chalmers to the dining room where Lady Vaughan and the children were already seated. Martha set her platter down and lifted the cover in unison with Mrs. Chalmers.

Instead of acknowledging their services and the appetizing aroma, Lady Vaughan’s lip curled. “Cook, you cannot expect the children to eat only poultry in the middle of the day. There should be a pudding or at least a ham or some beef.”

“
Begging your pardon, my lady, but we’re very limited on meats. Most of the livestock is owned by the tenants, and we would need to barter a pig or a cow from them.” Mrs. Chalmers grew flushed during her speech.

“
Then tell Broadmoor to do something about it. I am accustomed to having veal on Fridays, so find a way to slaughter a calf by then.”

“
But, we’d have no way to cure and store the leftover meat—”

“
Dispose of it, if you must. Lud, you cannot convince me the former duke and duchess lived in anything but top style. I expect no less. I left London to take possession of this property, and I must say I’m constantly disappointed at the staff’s inability to resolve even the most minor problem. I fear I must discuss staffing with Minton.”

“
Yes, my lady,” Mrs. Chalmers said with a nod.

Lady Vaughan seemed to notice Martha for the first time. “You, you’re not the new serving maid, are you?”

“
Me? No, ma’am, I’m Mrs. Bendicks, the gardener’s wife.” Martha dropped a knee-creaking curtsy.

“
Thank heavens. You wouldn’t do at all.” Lady Vaughan turned back to Mrs. Chalmers as if Martha ceased to exist. “Cook, remind Paget that I want another six servants hired. There’s far too much to do around here for any of you to manage.”

Martha delivered the other luncheon tray upstairs and returned to the kitchen to find Mrs. Chalmers chopping vegetables for supper with a large knife and a strong arm.

The cook vented her spleen along with her energy. “She’s always like that. There’s no convincing her we’re all living hand to mouth. Did you know she’s going to London to buy new gowns? Wants to have all the latest styles when she comes out of mourning. I only hope Mr. Minton can talk some sense into her.”

“
Would she truly replace the staff?” Martha asked quietly.

“
No,” Mrs. Chalmers said. “Mr. Minton has already assured Paget that we work for the Duke of Ambersley, and no one but the duke may dismiss us. I’ll not be leaving Ambersley while she’s here. Heaven knows what she’ll do if we don’t keep a close watch on her.”

Martha tried to imagine Johnny under the guardianship of Lady Vaughan. In less than a heartbeat, she decided she’d rather face the constable than hand her child over to
that
woman.

That night, after Johnny fell asleep, Martha shared her revelations with Tom. “The woman’s mean and calculating. I’d worry so, if Johnny were in her clutches.”

Tom tilted his head to watch the sleeping child as he drew on his pipe. “’Tis best for her to be returned to her family,” he said gently, knowing the words would cause his wife pain. “It only gets harder each day we keep her.”

“
But her ladyship is not a Vaughan by blood.” She kneeled by his chair. “Please, Tom, let us wait upon the duke’s arrival. I fear what kind of man he’ll be—his mother was a murderess.”

Firelight played across his weathered face. “I’ll think on it.” Which he did, most of the night and well into the next day while Johnny helped him at his labors.

Finished weeding the kitchen herbs, the two headed toward the rose garden on their way home. Rounding the corner of the Hall, Tom stopped with a gasp.

Someone had cut and removed more than half of the bright blooms. In the soft breeze, bushes waved freshly chopped stems where vibrant petals had been that morning. Strewn on the ground lay evidence of the culprit’s work—discarded blossoms in red and pink littered the grass like bodies on a battlefield.

Johnny stood like a pillar, unsure what to make of such a scene. “What happened?” she asked Tom in a whisper.

Unshed tears glistened at the corners of his eyes. “I don’t know, child.”

“
Lady Vaughan wanted roses throughout the Dower House,” Paget answered from behind them. “She cut them herself.”

The normally stern butler shook his head sadly at the destruction. “I’m sorry, Tom.”

Tom bent over one of his beloved bushes. Nearly all the flowers had been cut from it. “She’s destroyed this plant. I’ll have to prune it back so far, ’twill take a year or more to recover.”

His gaze swept the garden. “I’m glad the duchess is dead. I couldn’t bear to see her face were she to witness this. She spent hours tending this garden.” He turned and held out his hand. “Come, Johnny.” Nodding to Paget, they left.

Johnny hurried to keep up with Tom’s strides. She spied his clenched jaw and a fire gleaming in his eyes. She’d never before seen Tom angry. “Will the roses die?” she asked in a small voice.

Tom’s expression softened. “No, we won’t let them die. I’m too upset to do them any good tonight, but tomorrow’s a new day. I’ll teach you how to save bushes even after they’ve been abused like that.”

“
You’ll let me help save the rose garden?” It seemed an awfully important task to trust to her.

Tom chuckled and squeezed her hand. “I think you would be the perfect person.” As they walked home, Tom battled his conscience, Martha’s tales from last night still fresh.

“
I don’t like Lady Vaughan,” Johnny announced, as if she’d read his thoughts. “She’s not at all nice.”

With a struggle, Tom’s conscience surrendered to a laugh. “No, she ain’t. Not at all."

~

Over the following week, Johnny learned to prune the delicate rose bushes. Tom taught her to define the plant’s shape while not pruning back so far as to stunt its growth. Together they collected the rotting carcasses of the forgotten blooms and watered the plants that had withstood Lady Vaughan’s pillaging.

Tom gave Johnny the added responsibility of continuing their care. “I must return to my other tasks, but I want you to look after the roses every day. Can you do that?”

Johnny agreed with all the gravity of her seven years.

Daily she visited the rose garden, if only to watch the bees lazily hover above the blossoms. After her chores one afternoon, she lay upon the grass to listen to the insects and birds, and inhaled the scent of the roses she’d rescued. The sun warmed her, and the grass tickled the back of her neck. She pulled down her tricorne to shade her eyes as she squinted at the clouds.

“
Hello.”

The little voice made Johnny sit up so fast her vision swam.

Standing a few feet away, a little girl almost Johnny’s age wore a yellow dress with a white pinafore. A matching bonnet covered her raven curls. “What’s your name?” the girl asked.

“
Johnny.”

“
I’m Olivia.”

“
I know.” Johnny scanned the garden, but they were alone. “Where’s your governess?”

Olivia giggled. “I don’t know. Curtis is always giving her the slip, and today I snuck away, too. She was reading to us about how Spain declared war on us. Do
you
know where Spain is?”

Johnny shook her head. In truth, she didn’t know
what
Spain was, much less where it was or why it would want to declare war on Ambersley. Fortunately, the subject seemed unimportant to Olivia.

“
I see you up here with the roses sometimes. Mama brought back armloads of them for our house. They smelled so pretty, but then they all died.” Olivia reached out to pull a stem toward her and sniff at the pink rose.

“
Mind the thorns.” Johnny scrambled to her feet and showed Olivia how to feel along the stem to avoid a painful pricking.

“
Miss Trent said you’re the gardener’s apprentice, and that I shouldn’t talk with you because my older brother’s the duke. I think that’s silly, but she said it would make Mama mad.” Olivia’s nose wrinkled in disdain of her elders’ opinions, then she sighed. “There’s no one to play with here. It’s boring.”