Chelynne (3 page)

“Who now?” Stella questioned without looking up from her chore of sorting through Chelynne’s things and arranging the room.

“My mother.”

“Ah, a great deal as I remember her. She was lovely and sweet.”

“Undo this dress, Stella. I’ll have to get ready for dinner. Was she in love with my father?”

“I guess only she could tell ye that. She was a good wife to him.”

“But he was much older, wasn’t he?”

“Aye, he was. But a powerful strong man. Much like your uncle, say ten, maybe twenty years ago. Had a fine handsome face for a man of fifty years. Never looked it, he seemed younger. Your uncle was but five and thirty then and they seemed the same in age.”

“But was she happy?”

“Never did I know a brighter lass when you grew and swelled in her belly. Her eyes were brighter than the sky. Pale blue her eyes were, with golden bits of sunlight in ‘em. Ah, she’d sparkle and shine.”

“And this is all I have of her,” Chelynne sighed wistfully, touching the gold coin.

“ ‘Twas a gift from the king. When the times were poor and the king himself had to beg a meal and borrow to eat, my Madelynne wouldn’t have that gold used. Aye, all her jewels went to the king’s cause, but that piece she saved. She’d have starved ‘fore she’d part with it. She held that very piece while she birthed ye, believing it brought her luck. It’s brought you luck enough,” she finished with a sharp nod.

The days that followed were busy for Chelynne and allowed little time for worry about her upcoming marriage. She took Carmel for long rides. Tailors were brought to Welby Manor to sew for her and turned out a full wardrobe to be ready for her wedding. She dallied long hours in the gardens around the manor house and took refreshments with the servants she had known since childhood. She accompanied Sheldon when he went into Welbering to look at the records, visit the shops, and collect the tax.

Nervous tension mounted again for Chelynne when word came from the earl of Bryant informing Lord Mondeloy of his visit. He included in that message that his son would not accompany him but was due in London port sometime in June after making what should be his last voyage to the West Indies.

Lady Mondeloy made her presence felt in Welby Manor in a way that added considerably to Chelynne’s anxiety. She hurried her huge form around the mansion with a perpetual scowl on her face. She worked the servants with no less cruelty than a slave driver and the gardeners labored long hours to meet with her approval. New items of clothing were sewn for herself and her son, though both were already exceedingly well garbed. Furniture was recovered, walls painted and covered with fresh draperies, and brass and silver shined to a high gloss. Every pane of glass was cleaned until it glistened on a daily basis, though the earl would not arrive for some time to come.

Chelynne moved through this madhouse in a daze. She had never known her aunt to display such energy. She sent out invitations to members of the town she had scarcely met and had many an unused room readied for this grand visit. She intended to flaunt the occasion to the hilt, even though Sheldon had informed her that the earl was ailing and would not appreciate her efforts.

Three days before the expected time of arrival, a gilded barouche sped up the long drive to Welby Manor. Workmen were about the ballroom adding finishing touches to the floor and gardeners were manicuring the lawns. Painters were busy in many rooms and Eleanor was lying on her daybed indulging in a midmorning repast. Chelynne was using this time to ride about the grounds. Garbed in only a simple patterned skirt and linen bodice, she watched from the back of the mare as this retinue approached.

She held her breath as the man in the coach stepped out into the light of day. She almost gasped at the sight of him. He was small of stature and his legs bowed. He was done all in silk from his toes to the delicate froth of ruffles that seemed to choke him about the neck. Even from her distance she could see the jewels that adorned him, stuck in his cravat, just below his knees and on his fingers and shoes. He wore a monstrous wig and his hat sported a loud pink feather. He stood in indecision for a moment, there being no one there to greet him, and then he looked around.

When he turned in Chelynne’s direction she could plainly see a long thin nose and high forehead. She swallowed hard. What more could she expect but that her groom be a younger version of his father. She knew at once what she would have for a lifetime mate. She could almost feel his long thin fingers as he pulled away at her clothing and his shrill voice as he commanded her...like Harry. Oh God, it would be like Harry!

Lord Mondeloy stepped out onto the landing and bowed, then extended his hand to the earl. Chelynne dug a determined heel into Camel’s side and with a strangled cry she sped away, never noticing that the earl shielded his eyes from the sun to watch her hurried flight. With brown hair flying wildly she floated atop the mare’s back, her intention to find the most distant corner of her uncle’s land and escape, for a while at least, the very idea of her predicament.

The earl of Bryant stepped into the house with his servants in tow toting his parcels and holding open doors.

“You’ve arrived early, my lord,” Sheldon said once they were inside the huge manor. “I trust your journey was uneventful.”

“It was. I’m sure our business can be concluded without much effort.” He looked around to see the many servants and workmen and asked, “Have I set upon you at an inconvenient time?”

“Preparations for your arrival, sir,” he replied.

“Have you a bed, a desk and a chair that are not being repaired?”

“At your disposal, my lord,” Mondeloy replied with a smile. There broke upon the face of the older man a similar smile. There was communication. These two men happened to like each other and they agreed on many subjects.

“Good, that is all I have need of, my lord. When will the young woman be introduced?”

“She’s riding and I bid you have patience until she joins us for tea. I would have her at her best appearance for you.”

The earl thought for a moment of the young woman he had spied a few minutes ago. She was a lovely, fresh thing, full round breasts, thick flouncing hair, a face pleasant to look upon. “I rather liked her as I saw her earlier,” he said thoughtfully.

“She’s a willful sprite, my lord,” Mondeloy smiled.

“Good,” the man retorted, stamping his cane once for emphasis. “Then I’ll see my rooms and have a rest before I meet her. Call me early so we have some time together before I make her acquaintance.”

A long while later Chelynne sought out her bedroom from the back stairs. Perspiring as no woman of quality should, she gave away her hard ride to Stella at once. Stella waited for Chelynne with a tapping foot and a frown of discontent, glaring her down for her mischief. Stella did not speak, she merely pointed to the steaming tub and the gown laid out for her mistress. With a little pout Chelynne began stripping off the simple dress.

Much activity could be felt about the upstairs of the manor as Lady Eleanor, caught unaware by the earl’s untimely arrival, hurriedly had herself prepared to meet him. For all the pains she took with her appearance and selection of jewels, one would suspect she was the intended bride.

Chelynne was pensive and quiet as she was groomed and dressed. A pleasant green was the color of her gown and the style was modest, as befitted a young virgin. The sleeves flared from her shoulders and tightened about her wrists. A bit of gold braid hugged her hips and slipped dreamily under her bodice. No other adornments or jewels were added. Chelynne was superbly figured for her small size, and heavy jewels would only draw the eyes away from her appealing youth and vitality. Stella, who had made the choice, showed a cunning in this that was rare for a woman never married.

Readied, perfumed and only lightly painted, Chelynne rose to posture before the mirror. She would have preferred to be homely. Perhaps then the earl would find the fault and refuse the contract. As if reading her thoughts, Stella lifted her chin with a finger and looked into her eyes. “Your uncle has been good and generous with you all your life and there was no one to order him so. Think hard on your manner, for should you shame him now, ‘twould be his darkest hour. I pray you think too, his work is not done ‘till he sees you wed, and a country squire can be as dangly and bumbling as any viscount. Take care you do not push him to those ends and give him another like Harry.”

The words were full of meaning for Chelynne and she nodded her head in assent, only too aware of her situation. This was her uncle’s choice and out of her hands. She loved him true and would not bring disgrace on him now.

As she tapped lightly on the drawing room doors she sucked in her breath and bolstered her resolve. The earl, Lord Mondeloy and Harry were seated and a young maid had only just begun to serve their tea. She curtsied and the earl and her uncle rose immediately to receive her. Harry rose, but he was a bit reluctant and slow. The earl was transfixed, his eyes glued to her in delighted appraisal. At last he shook his head and laughed lightly. “I found your appearance so striking astride I almost feared meeting you in person...in your finery. You have not disappointed me, my dear.”

“You’re overkind, my lord,” she murmured, pinkening a little.

“Ah, blush is so desirable on a youth. I will pray that you do not lose it too soon.”

He led her to a chair, one strategically lined up so he could look easily at her from his. She tried with her best effort to be relaxed and self-confident, but inside her nerves were wild and her stomach jumped. She sipped at her tea and thankfully the cup did not rattle and nothing spilled. She could not partake of the pastries being offered, for her stomach would never have tolerated food.

The men spoke lightly of politics and Harry appeared bored. He slumped slightly in his chair and huffed a few times. He answered his father with a frown or insolent sneer, but the earl was uninterested.

When Chelynne was beginning to wonder if she could endure much more of this chitchat, Lady Eleanor swirled into the room. The earl was taken aback by her size and heavy raiment. Jewels glittered under her double chin and loaded down her hands. Her bulky form and the heavy folds of fabric that fell gracelessly from her huge hips threatened to spill over furniture as she turned. She was much larger than the earl, larger than anyone in the room. Chelynne had never seen such a sight.

Eleanor extended her hand to the earl to be kissed without the benefit of an introduction. He took it reluctantly and Lord Mondeloy frowned his displeasure, embarrassed by this display. “A pleasure, madam,” the earl greeted her, and released her quickly.

Eleanor smiled and batted her lashes worse than any virgin maid. “But the pleasure is mine, my lord,” she simpered. She turned slightly and Chelynne had her first glimpse of Eleanor’s full face. There were round pink splotches applied to an almost ivory white complexion. Red paint made her full lips even fatter and patches like those she had heard the ladies at court were wearing swirled about her bulging cheeks. She was a monstrosity. It would have been more pleasant to look on the face of an ass. Chelynne was a little afraid she would throw up her skirts and display a diamond garter.

“We’ve been most anxious about your visit, my lord,” she went on. “And we’ve made some grand plans—”

“I’m here about business, madam. No airs were necessary.”

“But I assure you, it was no trouble at all.” Eleanor looked around. To her dismay there was only one place she could sit comfortably and still be close to the conversation, and the earl occupied that settee. She hesitated and he shifted before that piece restlessly, eager to be seated. Finally, in resignation, she chose a couch on the other side of the room. It was large enough to accommodate that generous frame, but the distance galled her. She released a little huff as she lowered herself into it and the earl sighed in relief, able to sit again.

Eleanor was given time to be served, to partake of the pastries, and then the earl started his business, without ceremony.

“Now that you are present, madam, we may begin with what I feel will be a very short business discussion between two families. Your husband’s dowry offer pleases me, the appearance of this young woman is to my liking, and I have one question for you. Have you guarded the virtue of this maiden with care?”

Eleanor’s mouth was full, stuffed with a sticky and chewy pastry. She couldn’t chew it and swallow it in good time, so she pushed it to one side of her mouth and answered with slightly muffled speech, “But of course, my lord.”

“But it has come to my attention that she has not been under your roof but for token visits. How can you attest to her status?”

Insulted at the insinuation that she was not an adequate guardian, Eleanor gasped and wheezed in a large part of her pastry, choking on her frustrated reply. Lord Mondeloy’s voice was clear, relaxed and firm above his wife’s choking fit. “I made all decisions concerning Chelynne’s travels and lodgings. I entrusted her to the care of her own mother’s childhood nurse and took full financial and moral responsibility. An inquiry would show that the nobles she has visited both here and abroad speak highly of her virtue. It is a matter of fact that you need not question again, but we will, of course, consent to an examination.”

Chelynne smiled her satisfaction. The earl then turned to the maiden in question. “Do your uncle’s marriage plans meet with your approval, Lady Chelynne?”