Lord Clayborne's Fancy (10 page)

“I had them made at the time of our marriage as a surprise for you. I had intended then that we would spend more time here,” he remarked reproachfully.

“It would appear,” she said, remembering her grievance, “that you have spent no little time here yourself since then and I found it embarrassing to have been in ignorance of the fact.”

“I saw no reason to tell you of my visits here.”

“And I can see no reason why you should not have. Did you fear that I would beg to accompany you?” she asked bitterly.

“There was no question of that.”

“Never mind,” she sighed. “What was it you wished to discuss about tomorrow evening?”

Clayborne, relieved to drop the subject, ventured, “I thought you three ladies might enjoy going to the theatre. We could see Hamlet with Mr. Kemble at Covent Garden, or would you prefer the opera at Kings Theatre?”

“The play... if it is all the same to you. Miss Turnpeck has voiced her preference on more than one occasion, but frankly I am not sure that she has ever had much of an opportunity to attend either,” she mused, adding without thinking, “I shall never become a governess. What a depressing life!”

Clayborne regarded her blankly, then with annoyance. “You forget yourself. You are not a penniless, aging spinster looking for employment. You are my wife.”

“Certainly, Jason,” she said calmly. “I was merely commenting on the plight of governesses.”

Clayborne regarded her suspiciously, then rose to leave. “I shall arrange for Covent Garden.” As an afterthought, he said more gently, “Good night, Rebecca.”

“Good night, Jason,” and enjoy your lonely, self-righteous bed, she thought with a sigh.

* * * *

The next day passed in a whirl with a lesson for Harpert, shopping for slippers, bonnets, and the odd shawl or fan, interspersed with a side trip to St. Paul’s for Miss Turnpeck. When the most flattering gowns had been chosen, and their hair arranged in the latest Grecian style, the sisters presented themselves to Miss Turnpeck and Clayborne in the drawing room to be whisked off to the theatre. The play was a great success, but during the first intermission Rebecca was surprised to have several acquaintances from her London season visit their box.

Adrienne and Thomas Woods, a couple she and Clayborne had met continually the preceding year, welcomed her back to town with warm assurances that she had been missed.

“I thought to see you here in the spring, Lady Clayborne,” Mrs. Woods told her. “Your sister seemed to enjoy her season; we saw her at every other ball and breakfast. And I did notice Lord Clayborne on Bond Street one day, but I was not so close as to be able to ask him of you. Have you found the country so entertaining that you have given up on town?”

Although she knew that Mrs. Woods meant no harm with this quizzing, Rebecca felt uncomfortable and looked beseechingly to Clayborne for assistance. Unruffled, he laughed. “Rebecca finds more than enough to do at Gray Oaks. One would think she had waited all her life to decorate the Blue Saloon and have a mare of her own to ride. We are fortunate in having very sociable neighbors, too. Not that our country entertainments can compare with London,” he said ruefully. “A picnic on the banks of a brook would not, I fear, appeal to all. And Chichester has never been noted for its elaborate assemblies, though they are better than many I have attended.”

Meg regarded Clayborne with astonishment, for one would think from the way he spoke, though he did not precisely prevaricate, that he and his wife had led a life gay to dissipation in the countryside.

With a shrug for her sister, Rebecca took her cue from him and elaborated on their life of wedded bliss. “Jason has been very indulgent, you see, Mrs. Woods, allowing me to do over several of the major rooms. I turned his household topsy-turvy, I fear, in my enthusiasm. His uncle visited at Christmas and that meant additional entertaining. What with one thing and another, there just didn’t seem an opportunity to get to London this spring.”

She added, with an impish grin at her husband, “But Jason had to be here a while. It is lonely at Gray Oaks without him, of course, and he insisted that we come with him this time, but for the present I imagine I will spend the majority of my time there.”

When Mrs. Woods proceeded to discuss Mr. Brummell’s hasty departure from England, Rebecca stole a glance at her husband and found to her surprise that he was smiling almost amiably at her. Though she told herself that the smile was solely for the benefit of their visitors, she could not repress the lump which appeared in her throat and made her able to answer only in the most meager of sentences. How long it had been since he had shown her even the slightest sign of approval! She enjoyed the second act of the play even more than the first.

During the second intermission Captain Gray erupted into the box exclaiming, “Of all famous things, Lady Clayborne! I had no idea you were in town until I ran into Ted this afternoon,” he said, airily waving to the man at his elbow, Captain Hardcastle. Recalling himself, he bowed to the other occupants of the box. “Ted has just been telling me how you came to his rescue when his balloon crashed.”

“Had a mishap,” Captain Hardcastle corrected. “Your servant, Lady Clayborne, and yours, Miss Farthington.”

“How is your arm, Captain Hardcastle?” Rebecca asked, noticing that it was in a new sling.

“Broken in two places, I fear, but I have little pain. I’m glad of the opportunity to thank you again for your help, and yours, Lord Clayborne.”

“Did you ever hear of anything so  crackbrained?” Captain Gray scoffed. “Going for a balloon ride indeed!”

“I am persuaded you are only jealous that you didn’t conceive the scheme first, Captain Gray,” Rebecca quizzed him.

Captain Gray’s moustache twitched as he tried to suppress a grin, but he admitted, “It would be famous sport, though I had rather not break an arm. Clumsy fellow,” he mocked his friend.

“No such thing. It is all a matter of wind currents and valves, you know,” Captain Hardcastle returned knowingly.

“I read somewhere that when they first tried ballooning in France they first sent up a cock, a sheep, and a duck to be sure it would be safe for a man to fly. When they reached the balloon after its descent they found the sheep grazing and the duck quite all right, but the cock had a slightly damaged wing. The injury to the cock caused a great deal of concern, and it was feared that men should not try this manner of travel, but this fear was laid to rest when several witnesses swore they saw the sheep kick the cock before ever the balloon ascended,” Rebecca offered, and tried to look serious.

“Those Frenchies. What a bunch of chuckleheads,” Captain Gray scorned.

Captain Hardcastle unconsciously straightened his cravat. “Lady Clayborne, if we might be permitted to call on you tomorrow, I would welcome the opportunity to restore your shawl to you.”

“We should be delighted to see you, but we shall be out until teatime, having promised Miss Turnpeck most faithfully that we will take her to see Westminster Abbey tomorrow,” Rebecca explained.

“Perhaps we might escort you?” Captain Gray suggested, with a glance at Clayborne.

“An excellent idea,” Clayborne agreed. “I shall be occupied for the better part of the day, my dear.”

“Shall you? What a pity, for I am sure it is just the sort of expedition you most treasure, darling,” Rebecca replied sweetly, her eyes laughing at her husband. “Perhaps another day you shall take us to see the Elgin marbles...”

“No doubt.” Though his reply was dry, the slight smile which hovered about his lips acknowledged her jest.

Meg did not know whether to be amused or distressed by this interchange, so she ignored it and very prettily accepted the captains’ escort for the next day.

Chapter Eight

The party which set off for Westminster Abbey was in high spirits. Even Miss Turnpeck’s pontifications on the Coronation Chair, the uniquely delicate fan vaulting of Henry VII’s chapel and the Limoges enamel work on the Earl of Pembroke’s tomb could not damp the sisters’ spirits. While Miss Turnpeck read every inscription on every tomb, with historical asides as to why Edward V was not buried there and Richard III was, Rebecca and Meg enjoyed a lively dalliance with the two captains. Miss Turnpeck was engrossed in her pleasure for a full three hours, and the four young people merely tagged along and created scandalous jokes which defamed the characters of those buried in the Abbey. When they returned to Clayborne House the two gentlemen gladly accepted the invitation to stay to tea.

It was a cozy, laughing group that Clayborne walked in on a while later. He greeted the guests with great affability and remarked, “I need not ask if the expedition was pleasant, for you all seem satisfied. Was the Abbey all you expected, Miss Turnpeck?”

“Dear me, yes. I only wish you could have been there, too, Lord Clayborne. Such a sense of history! Such an elegant edifice! The Abbey dates from an eighth century Benedictine abbey converted to a Roman church by Edward in the eleventh century. And the kings and queens who are buried there, you would hardly credit!” she enthused.

“Miss Turnpeck was able to see every one of their tombs, I assure you,” Meg laughed. “We were there for hours. Such a pity you should miss all the fun.”

“I regret it,” he assured her with a sparkle in his eye. “And I devoting my time to tiresome business matters.”

Meg was inclined to revise her opinion of him again. He really was a charming man when he wasn’t being stern and forbidding with her sister. Whatever could be the problem between them?

“By the by,” Clayborne was saying to Rebecca, “I saw Lord Stonebridge at White’s and he was kind enough to extend an invitation to their rout on Saturday if we should be free. I understand,” he said, turning to the captains, “that you will be there.”

“Yes, for he is Ted’s brother’s father-in-law,” Captain Gray replied, adding for Miss Turnpeck’s benefit, as she was looking confused, “Ted’s older brother is the Earl of Northbank, you know, who married Theodora, Lord Stonebridge’s eldest daughter, several years ago. They are in town on their way to Brighton now, and the Stonebridges are having the rout in their honor.”

“Oh, Becka, then we shall see Althea, and she is my very dear friend. You will remember that I have spoken to you of her,” Meg said.

“That is famous indeed. I shall enjoy a party very much after…” Rebecca realized where she was heading and, turning swiftly to her husband, asked, “Shall we still be in town, Jason?”

“I see no reason not to remain a few extra days. It will provide a rare treat for us,” he commented laconically.

“If your stay in London is to be short, perhaps we should plan another expedition for Miss Turnpeck,” Captain Hardcastle suggested. “No doubt she would enjoy an outing to Hampton Court with a turn through the maze.”

His idea was greeted with enthusiasm by the ladies and indifference by Lord Clayborne, who had no intention of joining the party but was not averse to having entertainment provided for his female entourage. Miss Turnpeck launched into an account of Hampton Court and its history, and only when she paused for breath were the young people able to make arrangements for the following day and for the captains to take their leave.

When Clayborne had retired to his study and Miss Turnpeck had dropped off into a noisy nap, Meg said, “I do believe Captain Gray is taken with you, Becka. And Captain Hardcastle, too, for the matter of that.”

“Pooh. Nothing of the sort. All these soldiers are bored to tears with no action now that Napoleon is banished and you and I are safe companions for them with your talk of Will and Clayborne’s presence. But I must say it is agreeable to have such handsome, attentive young men about, is it not?”

“Yes, for though I wish dear Will were in town, certainly the captains are the next best thing.”

“We shall have to look out proper outfits for such an expedition, but I am minded to ask Jason if he has a drawing of the maze. It would be above anything to play a trick on them,” Rebecca said with a grin.

“How splendid! Do go ask him now.”

When Rebecca tapped on the study door, Clayborne’s impatient voice bade her enter. “I apologize for the interruption, Jason, but Meg and I wondered if you might have a drawing of the maze.”

The book he was reading was put down immediately and he said thoughtfully, “I’m sure I have a guidebook somewhere about, and if I remember correctly there is a loose drawing of the maze in it.” He rose and went to the bookshelves, where he searched for a few minutes, finally pulling out an old guidebook. As he opened it a slip of paper fell out and he retrieved it, saying wryly, “It’s a bit old and dusty, but will no doubt serve your purpose.”

“Well, we did perhaps have in mind to play a small prank on the captains.”

“Just don’t get yourself into mischief, Rebecca.”

“Certainly not, my lord. I shall be most conscious of my position and act with the utmost propriety,” with which she smirked and flounced out of the room.

Clayborne returned to his chair, annoyed with himself for setting up her back again. He was on the point of retrieving his book when a commotion in the hall drew him forth.

Rebecca stood in the hall looking amazed and anxious. “Good God, Mary! What are you doing here? Why are you not in Bath with Aunt Adeline?”

“Oh, Becka, I am so happy to find you here,” her youngest sister cried as she flung herself into Rebecca’s arms. “I left directly I had Meg’s letter saying you were coming to London, but I did not know how long you would be here.”

“Let’s discuss this further in the drawing room,” Clayborne suggested, making his bow to Mary and shepherding the sisters before him as he spoke.

The butler, who maintained a stolidly blank countenance, was instructed to send in more tea and cakes and to arrange for rooms for Mary and her abigail, a young, frightened-looking miss who was trying to obliterate herself in a doorway of the hall.

When the door was closed behind them, and Meg discovered that her younger sister had arrived, there was a renewed outbreak of exclamations, tears, and general disorder. Miss Turnpeck awoke abruptly and gazed on her youngest charge with astonishment.