Carola Dunn (16 page)

Soon after eating, Lissa put the tired boys to bed. After tucking them in with a kiss she was ready to retire to her own bed, but she went across to the sitting room to wish Lord Ashe good night. He was gone.

She sat down for a moment, in case he had just stepped out. The next thing she knew, he was standing over her, holding a candle. The candle-flame danced in his eyes.

“Miss Findlay, you have liberated me!”

“What?” she asked sleepily.

“I have just taken tea with my aunt. Instead of cowering as usual before her usual diatribe, I told her about my speech this morning. She called me a sapskull, admittedly, both for my views and for believing I could change anyone’s mind, but she did seem to regard me as a serious adult for the first time in my life!”

Lissa smiled up at him. “Congratulations! But you liberated yourself. What speech?”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow. Come, you cannot sleep there or you will be lamentably stiff in the morning.” He reached out his hand.

Taking his hand, she rose. Her gaze met his and held. The flames in his eyes changed from dancing elation to a steady flare of desire. His clasp tightened as he pulled her towards him.

Then he let her go and stepped back.

“I should like to be on the road reasonably early tomorrow.” His voice was studiously matter-of-fact. “Can you and the boys be ready by nine if you are called at eight?”

Lissa tried to think. “Quarter to eight?”

“Quarter to it is. Good. Aunt Busby does not rise till ten!”

* * * *

Her hand still warm from Lord Ashe’s clasp, Lissa fell asleep the moment her head touched the pillow. Nor did she find time for reflection next day, with three children to care for during a journey of nearly sixty miles. Yet when at last, after a last stop for refreshments, all three boys drowsed off, her thoughts turned not back to the evening before, but ahead.

Though Lord Ashe had joined them in the carriage at intervals throughout the day, for the last stage he rode ahead to warn the household of their coming. At least one welcoming face would greet them on their arrival.

What Lady Ashe would think of the invasion of her peace remained to be seen.

Keeping the boys quiet for a single night was one thing; they could not be suppressed indefinitely, not without using Mr. Exton’s methods. Ashmead belonged to Lord Ashe, but it was his mother’s home. She was bound to have some control over who was permitted to take up residence.

Presumably she would not go so far as to turn her only grandson away. His companions and his governess were another matter. As Daphne’s mother and Colin’s grandmother, she would surely have considerable influence on the choice of a governess once he was living with her. Suppose she decided Peter and Michael were too disruptive, or Lissa was incompetent?

Lissa had had nothing to fear from the abominable Mrs. Busby. Lady Ashe was altogether a different kettle of fish. And they were sisters.

How alike were they? Lissa racked her brains to remember what Lord Ashe had said about his mother. The impression Lissa retained was that Lady Ashe was a semi-invalid who viewed with disfavour the high spirits of children. The same might be said of Mrs. Busby, too obese to move easily and dead set against boys--of any age.

Despite her worries, a small smile curved Lissa’s mouth. The last thing she had expected was to see the worldly, competent Lord Ashe routed by a stout old lady.

Somehow that small sign of weakness, of fallibility, made her love him all the more. It was just as well that once she was installed at Ashmead and he returned to London she would see little of him--always assuming he persuaded his mother to let her stay.

At worst, she would be here for a few days, for want of anyone else to care for Colin. Curious to see the countryside surrounding her new home, however temporary, Lissa gazed out of the window as the carriage turned off the high-road.

Though the summer days were at their longest, the sun had just set behind a hill, leaving feathery wisps of pink cloud floating in the blue. The hill was a smooth green mound, its turf cropped short by recently sheared sheep. Tall trees dotted the slope, which was separated from the lane by a drystone wall. In the strip of grass at the base of the wall, Lissa saw red campion and ox-eye daisies and yarrow.

The air felt soft and smelled sweet. Here, if anywhere, Colin would achieve health and strength.

Lissa turned her head to contemplate the boy, stirring in his sleep as the carriage jolted over a pothole. Though he was pale after the long day’s journey, he breathed freely. He would soon have roses in his cheeks, she vowed, if only she and her brothers were allowed to stay.

The carriage rolled through a pretty hamlet of slate-roofed cottages built of honey-coloured stone. The stone was unweathered, Lissa observed with interest. This must be Lord Ashe’s new village. She leant forward to see better--until she realized she herself was observed with interest by the women standing gossiping on doorsteps.

Sinking back against the squabs she wondered if they knew who she was, travelling in their landlord’s crested carriage. The messenger he had sent off yesterday afternoon should have arrived hours ago at Ashmead, and the servants there were bound to have relatives in the village. News would spread fast that young Lord Orton was coming to live with his grandmother. The villagers would guess the face at the window must be his governess.

Lissa just hoped they would not, in a few days time, observe with equal interest the governess in ignominious retreat after being dismissed.

Chapter 13

“It sounds to me like an abduction!”

Quailing, Lissa stopped dead on the threshold of the candlelit drawing room. Surely Lord Ashe had not told his mother that she had run off with Peter and Michael from their stepfather’s house!

By candlelight Lady Ashe was still lovely and, like her daughter, younger-looking than what must be her age though her black hair was streaked with silver. Despite her words, she was smiling teasingly at her son.

“Abduction?” he said. “Not a bit of it, Mama. I’m Colin’s legal guardian, after all. I have bowed to Daphne’s whims for longer than I ought.”

“Well, my dear, you are past the age for boyish scrapes. You had best tell me all about it.” She caught sight of Lissa. “Oh, you must be Colin’s governess?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Lissa curtsied. “Lord Ashe said I should come down as soon as the boys were settled.”

Lord Ashe rose. “Come in, Miss Findlay,” he invited with a smile. “I rely upon you to persuade my mother that I am not run mad. Miss Findlay is much better qualified than I, Mama, to explain why we are here.”

“I shall try, sir.” Lissa advanced and curtsied again.

Lady Ashe, as slight and fragile-looking as Mrs. Busby was massive, regarded Lissa with a slight frown. “You are very young to have charge of Lord Orton,” she said. She cast a quick, doubtful glance at her son, whose eyes were on Lissa. “And rather too pretty to be a governess.”

“Needs must when the devil drives, Mama--if you will pardon the expression. Miss Findlay has two young brothers to support.”

“Indeed! Dare I guess that the young friends you brought with Colin are Miss Findlay’s brothers?”

“They are, and Colin has been happier since they joined him than I’ve ever known him.”

“Indeed,” Lady Ashe repeated, but this time more thoughtfully than disapprovingly.

“I believe Lady Orton is satisfied with my care of Col...Lord Orton, ma’am,” Lissa said quickly.

“Then I await with interest your explanation of why my son has seen fit to remove you and your charge from Lady Orton’s authority without her prior consent.” Again she glanced at Lord Ashe, still standing. “You had best be seated, Miss Findlay,” she said dryly.

Wearily, Lissa took a nearby chair, and Lord Ashe resumed his seat. With his supportive interpolations, she described the course of Colin’s illness, her reasoning, his acute attack, and his improvement once they left the city behind.

Her ladyship bestowed an approving look on her son. “It does sound as if you were justified in rushing the boy away, Rob. I have always said the country is healthier for children. But, whatever my wishes, you know my physician will not permit me to supervise a nursery.”

“You will not have to stir a finger, Mama. Miss Findlay is truly competent despite her age and beaut...and brothers,” he substituted weakly, and hurriedly continued. “I’ve no more business in the House, so I shall stay for a while to make sure all goes smoothly. When I leave I shall keep you apprised of my movements so that you may summon me back in case of need--which I don’t anticipate.”

“I shall try to keep the boys out of your way, ma’am,” Lissa said. “There is surely enough room in the house and outside to avoid disturbing you, though I cannot promise they will always be quiet and angelic.”

“Good heavens, no, how unnatural that would be!” Lady Ashe said with a laugh. “You must not suppose I share my sister’s dislike of boyish high spirits. It is just that I have a weak heart, alas, and must not exert myself to oversee them. Well, Robert, we shall see how it goes--always supposing Daphne does not rush down to Ashmead and dismiss Miss Findlay on the spot.”

“I prophesy that she will not arrive for at least a week. She is invited to Woburn Abbey for a few days for a grand summer fête. She and Teague have talked of nothing else but what to wear for it this fortnight! The Duke of Bedford will certainly take precedence over her son, especially as she knows in her heart Colin will be well cared for.”

“No doubt. Sir Quentin Teague? I must talk to you about that gentleman, my dear. Miss Findlay, that will be all for now, thank you.”

Lissa found her way back to the nursery wing with a new worry on her mind. She had been too anxious for Colin’s health to consider Lady Orton’s reaction to her part in stealing him away. It was all very well for Lord Ashe to tell her to leave his sister to him, but Lady Orton had no control over him. All she could do was reproach him.

She could dismiss Lissa, and all the world would hold her justified.

At least Lord Ashe would be here to reason with her. Lissa had assumed he meant to go straight back to Town, but of course he would not wish to waste the journey. As well as preparations for building his bridge, he doubtless had other estate business to occupy him.

She ought to be dismayed that she was not to be relieved at once of his disturbing presence, yet her heart refused to sink. After their journey together, she was more in love than ever. Though he was no less unattainable than before, she could not but be glad when he was near.

If he was right, she had a week before Lady Orton arrived, a week in comfortable and beautiful surroundings with every day bringing a hope of seeing him. She would try to put aside her worries and enjoy it.

* * * *

Next morning, in view of Lady Ashe’s comment on her looks, Lissa decided it was advisable to pull back her hair and wear a cap again. She even put on one of her old gowns, but quickly took it off again, wondering how she could have borne to go about clad in such appalling clothes.

Her chamber, more spacious than her room in Dover Street, overlooked the stables and walled vegetable gardens. All the walls were of the golden Cotswold stone, as was the house itself, the low, rambling manor she had glimpsed in the dusk last night. Beyond the gardens rose a sheep-dotted green hill crowned with a spinney.

The country was very different from the arable district in Suffolk where she spent her childhood, she thought, striving to forget the grimy collieries of Leicestershire. This was much prettier, even under a thin haze of cloud. Also much better for rambling boys, without endless muddy ploughland or fields of growing crops to be avoided.

She must check with Lord Ashe as to whether there were any places she ought not to take the boys. It was not just an excuse to see him, she assured herself. He might have coverts with birds not to be disturbed, or neighbours who objected to trespassers.

A dog barked in the stableyard below. Tears rose to Lissa’s eyes as she remembered Folly, the gun-shy spaniel which had been her and Peter’s pet. Mr Exton disapproved of animals in the house, of useless animals anywhere. Banished to the stables, Folly had disappeared, never to be seen again, less than a week after they took up residence with him.

Lord Ashe would surely let the boys have a dog to call their own, outside if not in. But she must wait to ask until she was sure she and her brothers were not to be sent away, or Peter’s heart would be broken again.

Turning from the window, Lissa cast a last glance in the looking glass. She tucked an escaping curl under the cap, picked up her old shawl, and went to join the boys.

The table in the vast day nursery was already set for breakfast. At one end sat a hunched crone whose apple-cheeks and bright eyes belied her wrinkled face and white, wispy hair.

“Miss Findlay, may I present Nanny Bessemer?” said Colin in his grandest manner. “She was Mama’s nurse, and Uncle Robert’s.”

“How do you do, Mrs. Bessemer,” Lissa said apprehensively. Lord Ashe had mentioned the old woman, but indicated that she retired years ago. If she took against Lissa and started to interfere, she could make her job difficult, or even impossible.

“How do, miss. Why, you’re nowt but a child yoursel’! Sit you down, dearie. Now you needn’t fear I’m bent on meddling, for I’m not up to much nowadays, and that’s the truth. Find mesel’ nodding off at all hours. But me eyes is good as ever they was. I can mend torn shirts and I can gi’ you a hand making sure Master Colin and his fine young friends wash behin’ their ears and such.”

“Thank you, Nanny,” said Lissa with a smile, while the boys protested that they always washed behind their ears without being told.

Breakfast came, carried in by a footman and the nurserymaid, arrived from London late last night with the luggage. Lissa was glad to see the obliging young girl, and she was delighted to see Colin start on a boiled egg as if he were famished.

As soon as Michael’s first, urgent pangs of hunger were assuaged, he demanded, “Lissa, why have you got that horrid thing on your head again?”