An Affair to Remember (6 page)

Anna felt Greyley’s approach and she wondered why she let him infuriate her so. He was being deliberately irksome and she detested the way he lagged behind, watching her with that amused, sleepy glint in his eyes that made her yearn to box his ears. But she was a Thraxton and the Thraxtons had never met an enemy they couldn’t subdue.

“Anna.” Grandpapa’s voice came from directly behind her. “Are we departing already?”

Anna turned. Grandpapa stood at the bottom step, elegantly clad in black traveling breeches and a frock coat of blue superfine, clutching his gold-knobbed cane in one hand. At his feet sat a portmanteau.

Anna looked at the portmanteau. “
We
?”

“I’m coming with you,” he said, beaming amiably. “After much thought, I’ve decided that a few months in the country would do me a world of good.”

Good God, no! He had to be teasing…but one look at
his face made Anna’s heart sink. “You want to come with me? But…you’ve never asked before.”

“It’s too cold in this drafty house.”

“Yes, but…it’s August.”

“The nights still bring a chill.” He smiled brightly. “Perhaps I might be of assistance in the nursery. I’m very good with children, you know.”

“You’d be bored to tears. None of your friends will be able to visit and—”

“Oh, I can correspond with them. I daresay Greyley would even frank my post, wouldn’t you?”

Greyley regarded the older man for a long moment. “Would you refrain from handing out French sheaths to my servants?”

“I’ll try to resist,” Grandpapa returned, his blue eyes twinkling.

There seemed to be an understanding between the two that set Anna’s teeth on edge. “Grandpapa, I’ve already made arrangements—”

“Cancel ’em.” He used his cane to shove his portmanteau at the waiting footman, who obligingly picked it up and went to strap it to the back of the coach. “I’ve no wish to see cousin Elmira. Boring woman who likes nothing better than to talk about all the dead people she knows.” Grandpapa limped to the side of the carriage and the morning sun touched his pale cheeks. His
very
pale cheeks.

Anna frowned. Now that she looked at him, Grandpapa appeared to be limping worse than usual, as well. Was he taking ill?

The earl’s lazy drawl sounded at her shoulder. “Let him come, Miss Thraxton. Greyley House has more than enough room.”

“But the governess quarters cannot be—”

“You won’t be staying in the governess quarters, but in one of the guest suites.”

She gazed at him with a suspicious stare, but he just shrugged. “The governess quarters suffered a slight accident involving a large amount of very sticky honey and a pillow full of feathers. Therefore, until it is back to normal, you will be in the guest suite. There is an adjoining room that will suit your grandfather well.”

“There,” Sir Phineas said, hobbling toward the open carriage door. “All settled then. Greyley, will you be joining us in the coach?”

“I’ll be riding,” the earl said, glancing at the footman who was even now untying the gelding from the back of the coach.

“If you get cold, feel free to join us,” Sir Phineas said airily, as if he’d just conferred a great honor. “I’ve much to discuss with you regarding the current state of the linen workers in your part of the country. I daresay you hear a great bit about that.”

To give the earl credit, only the faintest hint of surprise showed on his face. “I shall look forward to it.” He bowed, then mounted his horse with an amazing amount of grace for someone so large. His gaze settled on Anna and he touched the brim of his hat. “I will see you at Greyley House.” He turned the horse down the street and urged it on.

Anna watched until he was well out of sight, and then turned to find Grandpapa’s smiling gaze on her. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, his smile widening.

But it was something, she could tell. She always knew when Grandpapa had some devilry in mind. And Anna was bound and determined to discover what it was.

G
randpapa lifted the curtain and peered out the carriage window. “It will be nice to be in the country. The earl’s lands are supposedly some of the most carefully kept.”

Anna’s gaze caught something white on Grandpapa’s collar. She reached over and touched a finger to the smudge. “Rice powder.”

Grandpapa appeared mildly surprised. “Wonder how that got there?”

“You know how that got there! You wanted me to think you were ill.” She pulled her handkerchief from her front pocket and placed it in his hand. “Wipe your face. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“No,
you
should be ashamed that I had to go to such lengths.” He wiped the last of rice powder from his cheeks and said sadly, “It’s as if you don’t like having me about.”

“Nonsense. Grandpapa, I’ve enough on my plate with Greyley’s charges.”

“Oh, you won’t have to worry about me,” he said quickly. “I plan to help you every step of the way.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she muttered. She eyed her badly behaved Grandpapa for some moments. “Will you promise me one thing?”

“Anything, my dear. Just name it.”

“Promise you will not attempt to embroil Lord Greyley in any of your projects.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” He tucked her handkerchief into his front pocket, leaving a broad white smear on the dark cloth. “Besides, I already asked and he said no.”

She suddenly remembered the earl’s comment about the French sheaths. Anna fell back against the squabs and groaned. “You didn’t.”

“Just once. He wasn’t interested.” Grandpapa smiled as if at some inner, tranquil image. “Or at least, he didn’t
think
he was interested. But I think he will change his mind.”

Anna silently conjugated the Latin word for “cease.”

He reached over and patted her knee. “There, there. I vow I will not say another word to him. Greyley will become an ardent supporter of Thraxton interests without any persuasion from me.”

“You are mistaken; the Earl of Greyley isn’t a charitable sort of man.”

Grandpapa pursed his lips. “I wouldn’t say that. He
is
the head of the Elliot family.”

“I’ve never heard anything good about the Elliots.”

“Ah, but I’ve never heard anything bad about Greyley.” Grandpapa nodded wisely, as if he were a sage. “It must be difficult to remain basically good when one is surrounded by a whole family determined to be bad. And so successful at it that they consider it a birthright. It is all the more amazing when you realize how young Greyley was when
he took over the family reins. Not even eighteen from what I heard.”

It always amazed Anna how much Grandpapa knew. If only the Home Office had such connections. “I daresay the Elliots were happy to see Greyley arrive.” Her fingers brushed over the plush velvet carriage seats.

“They were ecstatic at first. He was young, and they thought him a pigeon ripe for plucking.”

“I cannot envision the earl being anything as tame as a pigeon.”

“Ah, but then you know him better than the Elliots. You see, Greyley was raised by his stepfather, St. John, who kept the Elliots at bay until the earl reached his majority. Threatened some of them with bodily harm if they so much as talked to the boy.”

“Sara has mentioned that her father was very protective.”

“Which was a pity in a way. It must have been something of a shock to Greyley to realize just how depraved and deplorable his real family was.” Grandpapa absently pulled a rather crushed cigarillo from his pocket and rolled it between his fingers, the breeze from the open window wafting the pungent scent through the carriage. “Born an Elliot but raised a St. John. An interesting juxtaposition—knavery and honor. I wonder which he fights the most.”

Anna couldn’t picture Greyley wrestling with such weighty thoughts. If there was one thing she knew about the earl from witnessing his actions during his sister’s impetuous marriage, it was that Anthony Elliot’s besetting sin was pride. Anna supposed it was possible that she’d missed some of his finer traits, though time would tell. She’d have ample opportunity to study him in the ensuing months. The thought lightened her mood, and it was with a sense of anticipation that she waited for the appearance of Greyley House.

After several hours, the carriage rumbled through a wide iron gate, the road falling away to the smoother surface of a well-kept drive. “It can’t be much farther,” Anna said, leaning forward to look out the window. “We’ve made excellent time.”

“Indeed.” Grandpapa put the cigarillo to his nose and took a deep breath. After a moment, he gave a blissful sigh and, with obvious reluctance, put the cigarillo back in his pocket.

Anna pretended not to notice. She wondered what the children would be like. They couldn’t be as bad as Greyley made them sound. Still, whatever unpleasant surprises life had in store, Anna could handle them all. She was no stranger to adversity.

She looked out the window just as the carriage cleared the trees and Greyley House came into view. The vista surrounding the house was idyllic. At the bottom of the hill, a stream happily babbled into a blue pond. From the pond, a smooth green lawn rose in gradual slope that was crowned with glorious oaks. All told, it was the perfect setting for a jewel of a house.

But instead of a romantic villa or a typical English manor, high on the hillside stood a square-built house with thick, unrelenting gray walls. Stark, with narrow windows and a facade devoid of frills or ornamentation, Greyley House gloomily surveyed the surrounding countryside. Whoever had placed the house had set it so that the afternoon sun dropped behind it, making the manor appear darker and more sinister in the fading light.

“Good God,” Anna said.

“Makes me think of a prison.” Grandpapa tilted his head to one side. “But I like it.”

“I don’t,” Anna said in all honesty. She frowned, rapidly
formulating ways to alleviate the problem. “Perhaps the earl could widen the front steps. Or add a portico to hide that ugly door.”

“That would liven it up,” Grandpapa agreed. He squinted thoughtfully. “Some ivy would help.”

“And a flower bed or two. Along the lower wall there.” A cacophony of flowers along the pathway leading to the front door would add warmth and color—just the thing to brighten the austere lines of the house. Anna rubbed her hands together, imagining how a small fountain might look to one side of the entryway. Either that or some Grecian statuary.

Grandpapa patted her knee. “It’s a good thing you’ve come, my dear. It appears you are sorely needed.”

A wave of certainty flooded through her as she thought of the challenge that lay before her. Greyley House and its inhabitants might be difficult, but she would prevail. There was little that common sense and hard work couldn’t accomplish.

The carriage rattled to a halt and a footman sprang forward to open the door. Anna dismounted as soon as the man let down the steps, looking around her with amazement. Now that she was closer, she decided that though the outside of the house was grim, it also possessed a rather stately grace.

She had just walked to one side of the crushed gravel drive to get a better look at it when the earl cantered up on the black gelding. Dust covered Greyley’s boots and coat, and somewhere along the way he’d loosened his neckcloth, revealing a strong tanned throat, as if he often rode that way. He looked disheveled and devastatingly handsome.

The earl dismounted and tossed the reins to a waiting groom as an elderly retainer hurried down the steps. “My lord!”

The earl gave the horse one last pat, then turned to his re
tainer. “Jenkins. How are you? The hellions chase off any more of the staff?”

“Only one downstairs maid, my lord. It has been a very good week.”

“Excellent. I rode by the tenant houses on my way. The new thatching looks sturdy.”

“Yes, my lord. Mr. Dalmapple was speaking of that only this morning.”

Anna eyed the earl speculatively. So Greyley paid personal attention to his tenants, did he? That was interesting information. As interesting as Greyley House.

Greyley turned and met Anna’s gaze. Her excitement bubbled over and she grinned. His brows lifted, and for the barest instant, one corner of his mouth curved as if in answer, his entire face softening. Anna’s heart thumped a welcoming beat and she took an impulsive step forward.

But then Jenkins made a comment she couldn’t hear, and Greyley turned away. Anna managed to swallow her disappointment, though it was difficult. It was strange, but though she’d seen Greyley plenty of times when she’d stayed with his sister in Bath, he was usually dressed in town clothes. Seeing him here, at his stately manor house, dressed in dusty riding clothes and looking more masculine than any male had a right to…It was different somehow. More…intimate, in a way.

She forced herself to turn away. She was just a mass of nerves. Traveling always made her famished, and neither she nor Grandpapa had eaten more than a few pieces of toast and jam this morning. As soon as they were settled, she’d ask for some luncheon and—

An ear-splitting shriek rent the air. The huge oak doors of the house flew open and a plump woman came running out, her skirts flapping madly. Her mobcap and the heavy set of keys that jangled at her waist proclaimed her to be the house
keeper as she jounced down the steps and came to a halt in front of Greyley. “Thank God you’ve returned!” she puffed, pressing a hand to her impressive bosom. “We’ve a plague!”

Greyley’s face darkened. “Are the children ill?”

“Lord love you, not
that
kind of plague,” the housekeeper said. “I’m talkin’ about a
biblical
plague.”

“Biblical, eh?” Grandpapa murmured from where he was standing beside Anna. “It appears as if we’ve come just in time to see the entire household eaten by locusts.”

The housekeeper waved a hand in front of her heated face. “Frogs,” she intoned. “Large, warty ones.”

Anna almost laughed at the astonishment on the earl’s face.

“How many are there?” he bit out.

“Dozens! And all in
your
bedchamber. They startled poor Lily nigh to death, they did, when she went into your room to dust.”

“The children,” Greyley said grimly.

The housekeeper clasped her hands together. “My lord, I’m sure they didn’t mean to—”

“Where’s Ledbetter?”

“That fribblin’ valet went screamin’ like a banshee, he did. Says he cannot abide such slimy creatures, jumping here and there and nestin’ in your private linens—”

A loud yell sounded from inside the house, followed by a solid thud and a crash. The housekeeper gave a faint shriek. “I do hope that wasn’t your new vase! The one you sent from London with instructions to keep it from the children.”

“Damn it! That was a Roman urn.” Greyley turned and strode up the steps. “Mrs. Stibbons, send a footman to my room with a bucket.”

The housekeeper struggled to keep pace with him. “Yes, my lord. I’ll keep an eye out for the children, too. Ledbetter saw them peeking ’round the door and he chased them
through the house. Almost caught the wee one, he did. Haven’t heard a peep out of them since.”

Anna gathered her skirts and dashed up the stairs. Here was her chance to establish herself with her new charges. “Lord Greyley! We should speak before you talk to the children about this latest occurrence. In my experience, the best way to handle a situation such as this—”

He came to a sudden halt on the top step. Anna almost careened into his back, tottering for a brief moment on the step below him. When she regained her balance, she found him staring down at her, a determined expression on his face. “Miss Thraxton,” he said in that low, threatening drawl, “as much as I appreciate your offer of assistance, my relationship with my wards is my concern and not yours. Your sole responsibility is the nursery and what goes on inside those four walls.”

“I thought you wished me to bring the children to a more orderly manner of behavior overall and not just inside the nursery.”

“If the children were competently dealt with in the nursery, their behavior would improve in other areas.”

“Nonsense.”

He stiffened, his voice turning deadly quiet. “I am not going to debate this with you. I have far more important things to see to.” He turned on his heel and took the remaining steps two at a time.

Anna started after him. “Lord Greyley, wait! If you will stop being so obsti—”

Something caught her arm just as she was lifting her skirts to sprint up the remaining stairs. Anna turned to find Grandpapa at her side.

He let go of her arm with an apologetic smile and then leaned forward to whisper, “I’m not one to interfere, but you
should remember that a man like Greyley is all pride. He will not respond well to anyone making suggestions about his behavior in front of his servants.”

Anna looked over Grandpapa’s shoulder and saw how the butler and housekeeper were both leaning forward at unnatural angles in an attempt to hear what Grandpapa was saying.

Her face heated. She straightened and said loudly, “Yes, I’m a bit tired as well.”

Mrs. Stibbons bustled forward. “Poor thing! Come along, miss. If I know His Lordship, you’re not only tired, but starving as well. Didn’t think to order a luncheon on the road for you, did he?” The housekeeper sailed past them and on into the foyer, chattering over her shoulder as she led the way.

Surprisingly, the inside of Greyley House was as pleasant as the exterior was forbidding. The entryway lacked a certain warmth and light, but the walls were covered with lovely paneling, and the marble floors were stunning.

The only jarring note were the ornament choices, some of which Anna wouldn’t have hesitated to call daunting. Ornaments such as the two ancient sets of armor that seemed to scowl fiercely from each side of the huge, somber mahogany staircase. She placed a hand on one of the monstrosities and sent a telling glance at Mrs. Stibbons. “Greyley?”

“Lord, yes. He dotes on those things, he does, though I’ve told him time and again that the front foyer is no place for such.” The housekeeper turned to the butler. “His Lordship wished us to show Sir Phineas and his granddaughter to their rooms.”