Grenville 02 - Lord John's Dilemma (16 page)

She raised her chin. “All right.”

“Alan is weary of your tantrums, your dramas, as he calls them.”

She stamped a foot, her face flushing with anger. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. John did not miss the tears that started in her eyes. Then, whirling about, she left them.

“That’s torn it,” he said.

“She needed to hear it,” said Felicity. “I’m glad you told her.”

Sunday started out uncomfortably. As they traveled to the village church in the carriage, Anabella kept her chin high and refused to look any of her family members in the eye. Even Jack noticed.

“What is wrong, Aunt Anabella? You look like a frog took your breakfast.”

“Where do you get those disgusting expressions, Jack?” she asked. “Never mind. It must be from your Uncle John. He has always had a unique turn of phrase.”

Jack looked puzzled, but his mother put her hand on his knee and patted it. When they arrived at the church after their short ride, Anabella jumped down from the carriage without waiting for the footman. She flounced forward into the church, though they were early.

John looked at Felicity and they exchanged a frustrated glance. Then he saw something that caused him to forget all about Anabella.

Miss Haverley! What is she doing accompanying the Aldershott family to church?

As though she felt his eyes upon her, she turned towards him and smiled that little smile that brought out her dimple.

He raised a hand and then began walking toward her. She waited for him, allowing the Aldershott family to go ahead.

“Miss Haverley!” he said. “You have not left with the Lindsays.”

She dimpled again. “Lady Lindsay turned me off. I committed the unpardonable sin of allowing the girls to get their muslins grass stained.”

“You do not seem overly concerned.” Indeed, he was puzzled at her cheerfulness.

“Your dear sister and sister-in-law introduced me to Mr. Aldershott with the view towards him hiring me for Clarissa. Which, I am happy to say, he did. I am very content with my new employment.”

Indeed, it seemed to agree with her. Her cheeks were rosy and her round green eyes sparkled. How could he have ever thought her less than a beauty?

“You have made friends with Stefano, then?”

“We are fast friends. I adore him. Especially when he decides to groom my hair. But you must have much news! How did your meeting go regarding your charity? And how did you find your proposed inheritance?”

“The meeting went very well. We located the property we wish to renovate, and my friend Stowell’s sister is organizing a charity to raise the funding.”

“Excellent!”

She seemed truly pleased.

“The estate surpassed my expectations. My uncle has maintained it well, fortunately.”

“More good news. Believe me, I am very happy for you.”

“It would give me great pleasure to call on you,” he found himself saying. “Are you allowed visitors?”

“Yes. Mr. Aldershott is not the jailer that Lady Lindsay was. Lady Grenville often calls at tea time.”

“I do not suppose there would be a handy daisy field where we could meet alone?”

She folded her lips, trying to suppress a smile. “I have not found one. But perhaps you could walk with Clarissa and me. We generally take a walk before luncheon. That would be around half past eleven. We walk on the forest path, to the east of the house. Clarissa is fond of birds and other creatures of the forest.”

He supposed he would have to make do with that. “You do not ever have a day off?”

“Sundays after our mid-day dinner are my half day.”

“Have you plans this afternoon?”

“No, as a matter of fact I have not formed any plans as yet.”

His heart began a swift tattoo. “May I call for you then? I will bring a horse for you, and we can go riding.”

She gave him a broad smile. “That sounds lovely.” She surveyed the sky. “Provided it does not rain! Now I must join the family.” With a little nod of her head, she left him and disappeared inside the church.

John followed her, although what he would really have liked to have done was to give a whoop of joy. Unfortunately, their pew was at the front, so he was not in any position to watch her during the service. He was impatient with the sermon as he had been when he was a young boy.

Their pew was the last to file out. When his eyes sought the little governess. She was walking with her employer. At that moment, she stumbled over a broken bit of pavement. Andrew Aldershott immediately took her hand and threaded it through his arm, escorting her, patting her gloved hand as though she belonged to him.

John stood stock still. What did it mean? He felt as though the ground was unsteady beneath his feet.

Anabella, walking beside him, had witnessed the little scene. “John, dear, you did not know about Miss Haverley’s new position, did you?” she asked. “I forgot. She was turned off by Lady Lindsay, and Felicity and I were able to introduce her to Mr. Aldershott, who hired her in a flash.” Anabella was looking very pleased with herself. “And now it looks as though they are going to make a match of it. I could not be more pleased. I feel quite clever that I had a hand in it. She is an engaging little thing, is she not?”

John felt Felicity’s and Anabelle’s gazes upon him as he experienced an acute sense of loss. Watching the governess and Aldershott walk toward their carriage, chatting and laughing, he began to feel he was standing on a cliff edge looking into a void.

He could not go there again! Veering away from his family, he walked into the little gated cemetery and lost himself among the gravestones.

Three weeks! He had only been gone three weeks, and Andrew Aldershott had found John’s his secret treasure. The man was wealthy, had a charming daughter, and a comfortable house. No doubt he appreciated Miss Haverley’s cheer after his long period of mourning.

And Miss Haverley? She thought John practically engaged to Miss Lindsay. The devil take it! Why had he not made his feelings known before he left? Perhaps because until this very moment he had not understood the depth of them himself.

Pain and futility pierced him in that sudden way they had when he had lost a friend in battle. The future which had seemed so bright, had flown. He had failed to grab onto the light while he could.

Walking through the gravestones was an appropriate occupation for his mood. Life was not kind. For those not of his privileged class life was brutal and short. As he tried to cling to the cliff tops, hopelessness seeped into his soul, loosening his grip. He was being seized by that giant brute
Weltzschmerz
and held over the black cauldron of affliction.

This was no longer just about losing Miss Haverley. It was a struggle to stay above his own particular brand of hell. For a while she had been his bright angel, but now that the melancholy had him in its grip, the only way he could stay out of the abyss was to get on his horse and literally ride it out.

Walking blindly back through the churchyard, he was glad he had ridden Odysseus instead of going in the family carriage. He had funds in his pocket, though he would probably have ridden off without them. He was far down the highway towards Boston before the hour was over.

Riding Odysseus hard, he let the horse choose the roads. He didn’t care where he went. He didn’t care about anything but outriding the slough of despondency that could drown his soul.

He did not see the green of the landscape, but rather the parched ugliness of the Iberian Peninsula, strewn with blood and bodies. He saw the acres of dead at Waterloo. He felt the searing arrows of loss at the death of his comrades—Nettleton, Fraser, Howard, and so many more. Mostly, he felt the bitter loneliness of survival.

In his state of mind, the dark tunnel that was life had nothing to redeem it.

Somehow after days of bruising riding, strange inns, and disturbed sleep, he and Odysseus arrived in London. He showed up at Willows, burning with fever. He had not thought to eat, only to rest his horse. He’d had little to drink. Tying his steed to the post in front of the townhouse, he knocked at the door and nearly fell inside when the butler answered. The servant recognized him from his former visit, and led him to the morning room.

John had no idea of the day or the time, but soon Alan was with him. Perhaps it was the security of knowing he had arrived somewhere safe that allowed him to collapse.

{ 20 }

D
elia hugged to herself her anticipation of an afternoon riding with the major. He had seemed eager to see her and to fix a time to spend time with her. It was difficult to keep her thoughts from careening ahead of this afternoon into the future. Would he kiss her? She was most anxious for him to kiss her.

However, when she thought of anything beyond a kiss—marriage, for instance—her good mood dissolved. If they were ever to marry, it could not be until five years hence, and it was unlikely that the major, or any man, would want to wait that long. But her guardian would not consent to a marriage that would deprive him of the amount of her fortune promised to him by Lord Manchester should they marry.

Cast down by this thought, she ceased looking forward to her afternoon. What could come of it in the end except heartbreak?

When the major did not appear, however, she was deeply puzzled. What could have happened? Did he take a spill from his horse? Had he fallen victim to a sudden attack of melancholy? She was at a loss to explain it. She received no note nor messenger from the manor.

The next day her concern was so great that she decided to take Clarissa with her to the manor to visit the twins. Surely she would find out if there was a problem.

However, their visit with the twins was just that. They saw the girls and Nanny Owen as well as Baby Henry. But they saw no one else from the family. Deeply alarmed, Delia took Clarissa home, none the wiser.

However, soon servants’ gossip came to The Elms. The major had disappeared. Not only did no one know where he had gone, no one knew why he had gone. Delia’s concern was so great that she questioned herself deeply on the subject. What were her feelings on the subject of the major? Did they go deeper than the physical attraction they shared?

If she was honest with herself, she had to admit that she was at least a little in love with the man, and had been since she had met him on the highway. At first, it
had
been a physical attraction. But the more she talked to him and realized how he valued family life and the simple rewards of living in the country, the more she realized that he was unlike anyone she had ever known. Soldiering had taught him to be serious about his existence, to prize the things that were most important. His supposed attraction for Miss Lindsay had troubled her, but now she wondered if he was having second thoughts on that subject.

For the next week, Delia had a hard time settling to anything. She prayed Clarissa and Mr. Aldershott did not notice her distraction. Fortunately, they had moved beyond Egypt and were studying the Greek myths, which Delia had always enjoyed. Clarissa, too, found them fascinating.

What could have caused the major to disappear so completely that he would not inform his family? Could it be related to his melancholia?

While she drew a sketch of the Parthenon for Clarissa, she gave her mind to the problem, trying to remember any similar incidents that might have occurred in her father’s life.

The only thing that occurred to her was that when she was a child, her father would from time to time retreat from the family, shutting himself in his rooms. When he emerged, he looked as though he had been tussling with the devil himself—his hair was long and unkempt, he was thinner, and he had a beard. Within a few days after his reemergence, he would be nearly normal again. Perhaps the major handled his bouts differently. Mayhap he tried to run from them. She prayed within herself that he would come to no harm.

The Grenvilles were not at church the following Sunday, and rumor was rife with the information that the major had been located and that the Grenvilles had gone to him. When she returned home, Delia stooped to inquiring of the housekeeper, Mrs. Teasdale, whether there was any word from the manor about where they had gone. The woman told her that it was her understanding that they had gone to London.

Delia was greatly relieved that he had been found. But she knew the major disliked London. Whatever was he doing there? But, there was another disquieting matter that was requiring her attention.

Mr. Aldershott was becoming very particular in his attentions. He had started to request that she take her evening meal with him. To begin with, their conversations were strained, as he seemed to have little to say that did not involve Clarissa.

One evening, however, he asked her to tell him about her family.

“We were a very happy family, for the most part, sir. However, my parents and my only sibling, my brother, died about eighteen months ago.”

“And did you have no place to go? Is that why you became a governess?”

“I have other family, but I prefer my independence,” she said.

“You are a very fine governess, certainly, but surely you aspire to have a family of your own someday?” His tone was hearty and his eyes pierced hers, as though he might see the answer there. Delia found it very uncomfortable. She was not at all attracted to the man.

“Perhaps,” she said. Then, feeling she had left the matter far too open, she added, “But I am very content as a governess.”

“Surely you wish for an establishment of your own! For the freedom to pursue your own interests!”

She looked down at her plate, pushing vegetables onto her fork with unnecessary energy. “Women seldom have complete freedom. My situation here is very comfortable. I like your sister a great deal. And no one could ask for a more tractable, entrancing child than Clarissa.”

He smiled. “I am very glad you are so comfortable. That pleases me more than you might guess.”

She continued in her responsibilities, the major still very much on her mind. Her visits with Mrs. Scott kept her in touch with the doings of the neighborhood, as the lady had several faithful callers.