Bought: The Penniless Lady (16 page)

Hadrian knew what—or rather
who
—had brought about the change in him. But he could scarcely admit it to himself, let alone Ford. “Perhaps my brother’s death has made me realize there are worse things than losing face.”

Ford’s dark brows rose. “Such as…?”

“Losing a friend.”

For an instant Ford looked overcome with a mixture of emotions. Then he gave Hadrian a hearty clout on the arm. “That sounds like the sort of good sense I would be prepared to drink a toast to.”

“Then drink we shall.” Hadrian nodded toward the beck and the two men resumed their walk. “We never did get to hoist a glass of arrack in honor of Singapore being officially recognized.”

He inhaled a deep draft of late-summer air, redolent with the scent of things ripening. “Something tells me you and I have a great deal of good fortune we should drink to.”

“Your guests have arrived, ma’am.” Mrs. Matlock appeared at the drawing room door to inform Artemis. “The master sent me to tell you.”

Artemis jumped from her chair, where she’d been trying to concentrate on a bit of needlework. The house party had been her idea and she hoped it would promote reconciliation between Hadrian and his partner. But she dreaded having to face the Kingsfolds again after the way she’d treated them.

Though she had changed in many ways since leaving Bramberley, she was not a naturally sociable person and probably never would be. The prospect of formal entertaining, even a small group of people with whom she was fairly well acquainted, still alarmed her.

Hadrian was relying on her, Artemis reminded herself, inhaling a deep breath and smoothing her skirts. “Thank you, Mrs. Matlock. I trust everything is ready to make our guests comfortable.”

“Indeed it is, ma’am.” For all her brisk, capable manner, the housekeeper had not been able to hide her excitement over Edenhall playing host to a baron, a viscount and an earl. “Your guests will find nothing lacking in our hospitality.”

With that reassurance to shore up her courage, Artemis contrived a smile of welcome and hurried to the entrance hall to greet her guests.

She found Lady Kingsfold holding her small daughter in her arms, while Mrs. Crawford carried a baby. Susannah Penrose brought up the rear, clutching the Crawfords’ elder son by the hand.

In spite of her earlier misgivings, pleasure welled up inside Artemis at the sight of their familiar faces. “Welcome to Edenhall. It is a pleasure to see you all again. I hope you had a good journey.”

“It was quite tolerable.” Lady Kingsfold exchanged looks with her sisters and they all began to laugh. “I believe that is the best one can hope when traveling with small children.”

“I’m certain the trip will be well worth it.” Mrs. Crawford endeavored to soothe her baby, who had begun to fuss. “I have scarcely been a step from home since Phip was born and Laura is just as bad. It will do us good to have a change of scene.”

“We can get the children settled in the nursery before I show you to your rooms.” Artemis led her guests toward the main staircase. “My nephew will be delighted to have some playmates of his own age.”

She felt rather apprehensive about mentioning Lee. Would the ladies object to their respectable little darlings sharing a nursery room with an illegitimate child?

If they did, Lady Kingsfold gave no sign of it. “Your nephew and my Eleanor are of an age, aren’t they? It will be good for her and Phillip to make a new friend.”

When they reached the nursery, two capable-looking
nursemaids were waiting to take their young charges in hand after the excitement of their journey.

Artemis showed Mrs. Crawford and Miss Susannah to their rooms first, then seized the opportunity of a moment alone with Lady Kingsfold. “I cannot thank you enough for accepting our invitation. I would not have blamed you for refusing after the way I spoke to you and your husband when we last met. I understand now that you had everyone’s best interests at heart. I only wish I’d had the sense to heed your advice.”

Lady Kingsfold reached for her hand and gave it a warm squeeze. “It was a difficult situation and I cannot blame you for taking exception to our interference. I might have done the same if you had tried to give me unwanted advice about my family. I was delighted to receive your invitation. It gave me hope that our husbands might mend their friendship.”

A weight lifted from Artemis’s heart when she heard that. She and Lady Kingsfold were near in age and had been neighbors for almost ten years. Though their younger sisters had been great friends, there had always been a polite coolness between them.

That was her fault, Artemis acknowledged. When Laura Penrose had come to Hawkesbourne as the young bride of a much older husband, Artemis had privately condemned her as a fortune hunter. Later, when the widowed lady had wed her late husband’s heir, it had seemed to confirm all Artemis’s worst suspicions. As with Hadrian, her uncharitable assumptions had been quite wrong.

“Ford has been so out of spirits since he quarreled with Mr. Northmore,” Lady Kingsfold continued. “I urged him
to make some overture, but he can be very stubborn when he believes he has been wronged.”

Artemis nodded. “Hadrian has difficulty admitting he has done wrong. I knew he wanted to make amends, but he could not bring himself to make the first move.”

“They are too much alike, that is their trouble.” With a chuckle of exasperated fondness, Lady Kingsfold linked arms with Artemis and they continued down the wide gallery of the east wing. “That is the price we pay for having married such dynamic, ambitious men.”

“Perhaps so.” It gave Artemis a sense of bittersweet satisfaction to talk with Lady Kingsfold about their husbands, as if she and Hadrian had a true marriage, rather than a convenient arrangement for their nephew’s sake.

“Clearly you have much more influence over your husband than I have with mine,” said Lady Kingsfold. “You were able to persuade him to invite us here. If it had been left to me, I fear their estrangement would have continued, growing more difficult to resolve as bitterness hardened between them.”

Artemis detected a note of regret in the lady’s voice and wondered at its cause. “Here is your room. I hope you and Lord Kingsfold will find it comfortable and that you will enjoy your stay at Edenhall.”

“I’m certain we shall.”

As Artemis turned to leave, Lady Kingsfold called after her, “I hope you will not mind my saying so, but marriage seems to agree with you.”

A few months ago, Artemis might have resented such a well-meant observation. Now she welcomed it. “Thank you. I believe it does.”

Marriage to Hadrian Northmore, even a sham one, did agree with her. If only she had as much influence over him as Lady Kingsfold seemed to think she did, then perhaps she could persuade him to reconsider his plans for the future.

T
he Earl and Countess of Launceton and their small son arrived at Edenhall not long after the Kingsfold party. Hadrian was pleased to find the young earl had changed very little from the affable Blade Maxwell he’d known in Singapore. He had rather mixed feelings to discover Blade’s wife was the former Miss Genia Vernon, a lady he’d known in India.

That evening as they assembled for dinner, the countess confessed, “I wasn’t certain what to say when Blade told me he’d received an invitation from someone he’d known in Singapore. I was afraid I shouldn’t know anyone else in the party. But when he mentioned your name, I told him we must accept at once. It is so good to see you again, after all these years, Hadrian. I have often thought of you and wondered how you were getting on.”

“As I have of you.” Hadrian hoped he delivered the polite falsehood with a convincing smile.

It was not that he’d ever disliked Genia or wished her ill. She’d been Margaret’s dearest friend, a witness at their
wedding in Madras. His memories of her had been locked away as deep and tight as those of his late wife and infant daughter. With help from Artemis, he’d begun to unearth those memories and to learn to live with them. But Genia was a vivid reminder of the carefree days before his life had shattered for the second time.

Hadrian welcomed the distraction of Lord Ashbury’s arrival. The young viscount entered the drawing room with a rangy, loping stride. His sandy-brown hair was disheveled and his eyes held a look that might have been bristling irritation or abject terror. Artemis introduced her cousin to Hadrian and their other guests.

The young man responded to their greetings with terse civility, his reply to Miss Penrose scarcely more than a grunt. Clearly Artemis had not exaggerated her cousin’s unease around young ladies. Susannah Penrose did not seem any more taken with the viscount than he was with her. Her tight little smile looked brittle enough to shatter.

Hadrian feared his wife’s matchmaking plans were doomed to failure. Then again, Lord Ashbury and Miss Penrose were not off to any worse start than he and Artemis had been. And think how far they had come. A good deal further than he had ever intended or wanted. Yet where would he be without her? He would not trade the past months for anything.

The Crawfords appeared just then, and they were all able to go in to dinner. Over the first course, Lady Kingsfold and her family kept up a flow of easy conversation. Their attempts to include Lord Ashbury met with scant success. Hadrian might have dismissed the young nobleman’s aloofness as haughty superiority, but his deepening
understanding of Artemis had given him a more sympathetic perspective.

When the viscount’s sullen silence threatened to dampen the evening, she cast Hadrian a look that he recognized as an appeal for his help. Though he doubted his ability to prevail where the others had failed, he could not disappoint her. What would draw
him
out, Hadrian asked himself, if he were ill at ease and not inclined to talk?

“Lord Ashbury, my wife tells me you are a great admirer of Mr. Wilberforce. Do you reckon Parliament will pass a law to abolish slavery in his lifetime?”

“I do indeed, sir.” The young man sat up with a jolt, as if Hadrian had jabbed him with a fork. “Though Mr. Wilberforce has been ill of late, his supporters are spurred to action by the hope that he may live to see that longoverdue legislation passed.”

The earnest fervor with which Lord Ashbury spoke quite transformed him. And Hadrian was not the only one to notice.

“I am a great admirer of Mr. Wilberforce.” Miss Penrose looked at the viscount with sudden interest. “He appeared at a meeting in Horsham last year and spoke so movingly.”

Lord Ashbury turned to stare at her as if he could not believe his ears. “
You
attended an abolition meeting?”

“Is there something wrong with that?” The young lady’s eyes flashed with proud defiance. “Many women have made vital contributions to that great cause.”

“Hannah More has had great influence, as have several others,” Lord Ashbury conceded, “though Mr. Wilberforce fears the ladies are inclined to go too far.”

“You agree, I suppose.” Susannah Penrose stabbed her
fork into a veal cutlet. “Men are eager enough to accept women’s help when you need it, but heaven forbid we should express an opinion.”

“On the contrary, Miss Penrose. I have nothing but admiration for those ladies, Hannah More in particular. Have you read any of her writings?”

Artemis turned to Ford. “Lord Kingsfold, I hear your daughter is quite the belle of our nursery. All the little boys are vying for her attention.”

“I feared as much,” Ford replied. “Eleanor is a strong-willed little creature and a beauty to boot. I suspect these will not be her last conquests.”

“Nor are they her first.” Lady Kingsfold chuckled. “Thanks to her adoring papa, our daughter is accustomed to having a powerful man wrapped around her pretty little finger. I shudder to think of the havoc she will wreak in the assembly rooms of London one day.”

As the other married guests joined in this conversation about their children, Miss Penrose and Lord Ashbury continued talking together in hushed but emphatic tones.

From the opposite end of the table, Artemis flashed Hadrian a smile of gratitude for rescuing their party from the doldrums. As he tossed off a quip in answer to one of Blade’s, he could not help feeling at ease in the company of happily married couples. Yet Genia’s presence was a faintly disturbing reminder of how swiftly his newfound happiness could vanish.

If anyone had told Artemis she would one day be happy to entertain a houseful of strangers, she’d have thought they were mocking her. But that day
had
come. And the
acquaintances she’d long kept at arm’s length were bidding fair to become something she’d never had before—friends.

After several days spent taking the children for outings and evenings making music and playing cards, she was now on familiar terms with the countess and the Penrose sisters. She found all four ladies very congenial in different ways. Laura was the most like her, responsible and loyal. Genia was clever and forthright, Belinda gentle and amiable, while Susannah had a vivacious charm like Daphne’s. Artemis wished she’d made an effort to cultivate a closer acquaintance with Laura and her sisters years ago.

Now, while the men were down at the beck fishing, the ladies brought the children outside to play in the garden.

“You have such a pretty place here, Lady Artemis.” Susannah gazed around as she walked with her young nephew clinging to her hand. “Hawkesbourne is lovely, too, of course. But I have been there so long I scarcely notice it anymore.”

Was it possible part of the charm of Edenhall lay in the presence of a certain awkward but ardent young politician? Artemis found herself eager to promote a match that might lead to the sort of true, lasting marriage she now longed for.

“If you like it here, you must return for a longer visit after Christmas.” She stooped to dust off Lee, who had fallen on his bottom. “I shall want company once Mr. Northmore goes back to Singapore.”

“Did you hear that, Laura?” Susannah called to her sister. “Lady Artemis has invited me to visit her this winter. I’d be delighted to. Winter passes so slowly at home since
Daphne…I mean…now that I have no particular friends to call on.”

When Artemis let a faint sigh escape her lips, Susannah reached for her hand. “Forgive me! I did not mean to bring back unhappy memories at such a pleasant time.”

“Do not fret, my dear.” Artemis strove to raise a smile. “I have far more happy memories of my sister than unhappy ones. Lately it is the former I recall most clearly. You remind me of Daphne when she was in her brightest spirits. Having you here makes me feel close to her again.”

Susannah looked torn between her own grief for her friend and pleasure at having cheered Artemis. But before she could reply, little Phillip spotted a squirrel perched on a nearby garden seat and darted after it. His aunt was obliged to lift up her skirts and give chase.

No sooner had she gone than Laura and Genia joined Artemis.

“Did I hear you correctly?” asked Laura. “Mr. Northmore is going back to Singapore while you and Lee stay behind? How soon do you expect him to return?”

Those questions troubled Artemis far more than Susannah’s mention of Daphne. Hadrian’s departure would be a bereavement of sorts. Would she come to accept it in time, as she had the deaths of her brother and sister? Or would she wait and pine, living for that annual letter from Singapore, hoping he might return or send for her?

“Not for many years.” Her voice caught in her throat. “If ever.”

“And you cannot go with him?” Laura stooped to show her daughter a butterfly perched on a nearby shrub. “Is that your inclination or his?”

“I cannot leave Lee,” replied Artemis. “And Hadrian would never risk taking him to the tropics. He says the climate is very hard on English children.”

Hearing his name, Lee began to tug on her skirts, wanting to be picked up. Artemis welcomed the distraction.

“That is true.” Genia kept a keen eye on her young son, who was pulling a toy boat on wheels. “Especially if they are accustomed to northern climates. Hadrian knows better than most, poor man. One can hardly blame him for not wanting to go through that again.”

“Did you know his first wife well?” Artemis could not resist asking, though she knew she was only torturing herself to hear Genia sing Margaret’s praises.

Genia nodded. “We were as close as sisters. Did Hadrian not tell you? I was Margaret’s bridesmaid. Her death came as such a shock I went rather wild afterwards. Hadrian couldn’t bear to stay in Madras. He moved his business to Penang and I did not see him again until the other day. I never thought he would wed again. It has done my heart good to see him so happy with you and your little nephew.”

Before Artemis could digest all that and form a proper response, Laura chimed in. “Ford says Hadrian is quite a changed man and all for better. That is why I was so surprised to hear you are to be parted. Perhaps it is not my place to ask…” she lowered her voice “…but do you
want
him to go?”

Artemis stiffened as she used to do when anyone approached too close for her comfort. “It is necessary.”

“That does not answer the question,” said Genia in a gentle but firm tone.

Artemis hesitated, torn between contrary inclinations. It was against her reserved nature to confide in others, yet she craved an outlet for her feelings.

“No,” she whispered, holding their nephew as tightly as she wished she could hold Hadrian, “I do
not
want him to go, but there is nothing I can do to prevent it.”

“Are you quite certain of that?” Laura challenged her. “Often we have more choices than we realize, if only we dare to make the difficult ones. Have you told Mr. Northmore how you feel?”

“Men are admirable creatures,” added Genia, “but they sometimes have difficulty divining a woman’s feelings if she leaves the slightest room for doubt.”

“It would do no good,” Artemis insisted. Did these women not understand how impossible a thing they were suggesting? “Hadrian and I have an arrangement to which we both agreed. I cannot change the conditions now.”

“Are your feelings the same as they were when you made this arrangement of yours?” Laura’s candid blue gaze would accept nothing less than the truth.

Artemis shook her head.

Laura exchanged a subtle nod with Genia as if to say she had guessed as much. “Are his?”

“No, but that signifies nothing. We detested one another at first. Just because we have overcome our differences and made an effort to be civil—”

“Civil?” Genia laughed. “My dear Artemis, if all married couples were as
civil
as you and Hadrian, the courtesans of London would starve for want of patrons!”

How could Genia taunt her with what she so desperately wanted to hear? “You should know better than anyone,
his heart belongs to Margaret. Even if I wanted to I cannot fight a ghost…or an angel! Pray excuse me.”

She set her nephew on his feet. “Could you please watch Lee for me?”

Hoisting up her skirts, Artemis dashed away before her composure deserted her entirely. She finally staggered to a halt a few minutes later under a stout old oak tree beyond the stables.

But before she had a chance to catch her breath, Genia appeared, breathless and anxious looking. “Forgive me…my dear! I did not mean…to distress you…truly. I have…a habit…of letting my tongue…run away with me.”

Too winded and agitated to reply, Artemis could do no more than stand there, shaking her head like a perfect ninny while her galloping heart slowed.

Genia recovered her voice first. “Perhaps I should not behave like such an infernal busybody when we have known each other such a short time. But I felt so sorry for what Hadrian suffered and it has gladdened my heart to see him so happy with you. Margaret was a dear girl and I believe Hadrian loved her very much.

“But you must believe me.” She fixed Artemis with her expressive hazel eyes. “I never saw him happier with her than I have seen him since I came here. Margaret used to wonder if he had some secret sorrow and fretted that he would not share it with her.”

Could it be that Hadrian had never told his beloved first wife, the mother of his child, about the tragedy that had befallen his family? Artemis was almost afraid to believe it. Then she recalled something he’d said on the night he told her about Margaret and Elizabeth.
You are
the only one I’ve ever been able to tell—first about the Fellbank Explosion and now about this. After all you have been through in your own life, I reckon you understand better than anyone else can.

Perhaps Genia saw some change in her expression that offered hope. Reaching for Artemis’s hand, she gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Laura was right, you know, about daring to make difficult choices. Love like yours is worth fighting for.”

“Did you have to fight for yours?” Artemis could scarcely believe she was inviting such an intimate confidence from someone who was little better than a stranger. Yet she felt an inexplicable connection to Genia and Laura, as if they were all part of some secret sisterhood.